MasukMarcus Shaw did not knock when he entered Nathaniel’s study. He never did when the matter was serious. The doors at Celestine Heights opened for him with a soft recognition, a security system that knew his gait as well as it knew Nathaniel’s voice.
Nathaniel looked up from the tablet in his hand. He had been reviewing port traffic figures without really seeing them. Lillian’s presence had altered the shape of his concentration. He finished fewer tasks at once now. He noticed more.
“Say it,” Nathaniel said.
Marcus remained standing. He always did when delivering intelligence. “There has been movement around Whitmore assets. Not the visible kind. Not social. Infrastructure.”
Nathaniel set the tablet aside. “Define movement.”
“Old







