“Why do you think you got pregnant?” asked Daphne.

Helene shot her parents a nervous look. “The implant was faulty.”

“They’re rated for ten years of use,” argued Daphne. “Have you had yours that long?”

“Four,” said Helene, flushing.

And then Daphne went in for the kill: “Is it or is it not true that you actually disabled your implant in tribute to your goddess Demeter and her cult of fertility?”

“No!” gasped Helene.

“Did your parents ask you to do it? Did your parents do it themselves?”

“Of course not,” exclaimed Mrs. Lin.

“Why don’t you tell me about your faith then,” said Daphne.

“Describe it and your goddess in your own words.”

Mr. and Mrs. Lin, on the defensive now, attempted to paint a picture of their religion and did so in bits and pieces. A lot of it corroborated Tessa’s research, and it was almost impossible to talk about Demeter without mentioning fertility.

“But it’s not just about . . . babies,” explained an exasperated Mr. Lin, when Daphne pointed out the connections. “It’s fertility in a larger sense. Growth and new life of all things—plants, ideas, art. There’s a lot to it.”

Daphne fixed him with her dark gaze. “As a goddess who supports growth and new life, how does she feel about contraceptive implants?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” he said.

“Your church encourages removal of the implants when legally allowable at twenty, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think Demeter is pleased or displeased at news of your daughter’s pregnancy?” asked Daphne.

The family fell silent at that. When Daphne repeated it, Mrs. Lin said, “I’m sure she has better things to worry about than us.”

“She’s a great and powerful goddess,” said Daphne. “I’m sure she keeps track of all of her followers. Would she or would she not approve of Helene’s pregnancy?”

“I suppose . . . well, I suppose she’d approve,” said Mrs. Lin.

“But—”

But Daphne had what she needed. Through that and a number of other tricky questions, even Tessa could tell that Daphne could edit together a segment where the family inadvertently implicated themselves. It made Tessa feel slightly queasy, but to Daphne, it was a triumph she couldn’t stop crowing about on the train ride back to Vancouver.

“I just wish I could get an interview with the boy too,” she said.

“Get his reactions to being a pawn in a zealot family’s plans to breed children for their goddess. His family wouldn’t let him talk to me, though.”

Smart, thought Tessa. Out loud, she said, “Isn’t that a leap—breeding children for their goddess? They never said anything like that.

You kind of just put it together from circumstantial evidence.”

“Of course they’re not going to say it,” said Daphne. “And if they’re truly innocent, I’m sure this’ll all settle out legally.”

“But your story gets attention in the meantime.”

Daphne grinned. “That’s how this business works. If it soothes your moral sensibilities, though, it is incredibly rare for contraceptive implants to fail.”

“Yeah, but is it easy for the average person to disable one?” asked Tessa.

“I don’t know. I’m no engineer.”

Tessa thought about that for several moments. “Why don’t you ask one? Get more facts for the story?”

“Because I need to edit and file this with North Prime while it’s still hot,” said Daphne. “I couldn’t get an expert to talk to me on such short notice.”

“What if I could?” asked Tessa. “I know someone—I mean, he’s more like Justin’s friend. He helps Justin out with cases. But his main job is at a contraceptive company. I bet he’d talk to us.”

Daphne’s earlier expression of smug triumph had transformed to razor sharp focus. “Justin’s friend? Is he local?”

“No . . . but recently, he’s been spending time up here. Normally he’s in Portland. But his company has offices in Vancouver, and he’s been doing other government contract work.”

“Fine,” declared Daphne magnanimously. “See if he’s around. If we can get in today, we can talk to him.”

Leo Chang was surprised when Tessa called but not unfriendly.

He’d always been kind to Tessa, and so had his husband, Dominic. She hadn’t seen Dominic in a very long time, though. The few times they’d visited him in Portland in recent months, Dominic had always been away. It was around that same time that Leo, who’d sworn he was firmly entrenched in the countryside outside Portland, had begun venturing back up to his favorite city. Luck and chance found him in Vancouver today, at Estocorp’s downtown offices, and he agreed to talk to Tessa when she told him she needed help for a school project.

“You didn’t mention you were bringing a reporter,” Rufus remarked quietly to Tessa as they waited in the lobby to meet Leo.

“One day with her, and you’re already getting selective about what information you give.”

Tessa blushed. “Leo’s not as paranoid as he used to be, but he sometimes reacts badly to strangers. Though it kind of depends on the type of stranger. He was always nice to me. Not so much to Mae. I don’t think he likes praetorians.”

“Praetorians are intimidating,” agreed Rufus. “But she’s pretty enough to put a lot of people at ease—especially men.”

“Leo has a husband,” Tessa pointed out.

Rufus chuckled at that. “Ah. Well, then, yes, I suppose she wouldn’t be so effective on him in that case. You’ve probably seen her turn on that charm with other men, though.”

“Not really.” Tessa reflected on her experience with Mae. “But I’ve never seen her around that many men, I guess. Just her friends.

And Justin—but they always seem to be mad at each other. I’ve never heard her talk about a boyfriend or anything.”

“Praetorians are rarely lonely,” said Rufus, but he seemed pleased at Tessa’s response.

Leo, however, was not so pleased when he met them and found out what he’d gotten into. He led Tessa’s group into the elevator and took them up to a corporate lounge, saying bluntly, “I’ll answer whatever factual questions you have about birth control, but I’m not going to be filmed as part of your efforts to smear some poor family.”

Daphne, standing half a foot over slim and immaculately dressed Leo, beamed down. “Why would you think we’d want anything other than facts?”

And to Tessa’s pleasant surprise, Daphne did simply ask for facts once they were all seated. She verified the functioning stats of contraceptive implants and asked for Leo’s opinion on the brand of Helene’s, which turned out to be one of Estocorp’s competitors. Leo answered truthfully.

“It’s a decent product. We’ve all got to meet government standards, especially that ten year mark. Defects happen, though. Could’ve happened to them.”

“Is it possible the Lin family could have tampered with it?” asked Daphne.

“It’d be difficult,” he said. “They’d have to physically harm it, dig into the arm with a knife, maybe. That’d show up on the implant if they examine it, not to mention the girl.”

Daphne looked unhappy at not having clear-cut evidence to support her theory. “I’ve heard of people remotely programming implants.”

Leo smiled and shook his head. “Not a contraceptive one used by the average consumer. Military implants can be programmed remotely.

Praetorians, for example, can have their implants’ instructions modified. Female praetorians have contraceptive functions rolled into their military ones, so yes, you could theoretically tamper with one remotely in that case, but I’m guessing your victim—I mean, interviewee—wasn’t in some secret junior praetorian program.”

Daphne nodded in acceptance. “Thank you, Mr. Chang. I’ll take this into consideration.” Tessa, however, doubted anything that didn’t back up Daphne’s sensational angle would ever see airtime.

“Happy to help my little friend here, even if she is keeping surprising company,” said Leo, giving Tessa a wry look. “Glad you’ve got a school you like, though.”

“How do you want to be credited if I do cite you?” asked Daphne, taking out her ego. “Tessa said you work here and for the government.”

“Government stuff’s freelance and unrelated,” said Leo. “Just use my Estocorp title—lead engineer.”

Daphne nodded and made a note. She then looked up at him with a sly smile. “If you have done work for SCI, I’d love to get your opinion on the religious nature of this.”

He held up his hands. “No way. I wouldn’t even dream of commenting on that stuff. Everything I’ve done for them has been in a technical capacity. I have no expertise on the rest. Badger Justin for that.”

Tessa hugged him and thanked him for his time. Daphne, eager to begin her editing and get the jump on any other reporters, accepted defeat in getting more out of Leo and waited impatiently at the door with Felix. “Well?” she asked Tessa. “Ready to see how editing makes magic?”

“Uh . . . sure,” said Tessa, quickly taking out her ego as she fell into step with the others. “I just need to send a message to Darius. I didn’t think we’d be out this long, and I’d told him I’d meet him for lunch.”

“Lunch was three hours ago,” Daphne pointed out.

Tessa smiled. “He’s working a weird shift at the senate today. So he has a weird lunch time.”

Daphne came to a halt by the elevator and gave Tessa a long, searching look. “Go on,” she told Felix moments later. “We’ll catch up later.” When he was gone, she turned back to Tessa. “Your castal friend works at the senate?”

“He has an internship,” said Tessa uneasily, not liking the shift in attention. “Justin helped him get it. Through Lucian.”

Daphne’s eyes narrowed. “He works for Senator Darling?”

“I don’t know who he works for exactly. I mean, probably not Lucian since Lucian’s not in the country.”

“But his work still carries on,” Daphne murmured. She stared off into space for several seconds, and Tessa could practically see the wheels of scheming in the other woman’s head. “Don’t cancel plans on my account. Keep your lunch date.”

“It’s not a date,” said Tessa quickly. “Not that kind of date.”

Daphne continued as though Tessa hadn’t spoken. “And while you’re there, see if your friend’s come across one Dr. Nico Cassidy.”

The name meant nothing to Tessa. “Who’s he?”

“A person of interest,” said Daphne, after a bit of consideration.

“Someone who spends an awful lot of time with Senator Darling’s political party.”

“Maybe he’s their doctor,” suggested Tessa.

“He’s not a medical doctor. He’s their wellness counselor—if you believe that.”

“Well, there you go. That’s why he spends so much time with their party.” Tessa might be getting more out of this internship than she’d expected, but jumping on board with every conspiracy theory still wasn’t her style. Part of the RUNA’s healthcare system required psychiatric evaluations every few years, along with citizens’ normal physicals. Those deemed to be in stressful or high profile professions— like the military or politics—received them more frequently, and unlike in Panama, mental health issues had less of a stigma here. A political party having its own therapist on hand to monitor members was standard practice.

Daphne clearly thought otherwise. “There’s something weird about this guy. I’ve tried to research him, and he’s been remarkably difficult. I had a source that suggested he might be involved with a religious group, but I haven’t been able to find any other leads.”

“Maybe there are none,” said Tessa. “Maybe your source was wrong. And besides, not everyone involved in religion is newsworthy.”

“They are if they’re advising a major political party,” Daphne countered. “Especially one that’s carrying the next consul. The people have a right to know the truth, and if you care anything about this country, you’ll use your inside connections to find out more about Dr. Cassidy.”

Tessa somehow doubted Daphne was as concerned about the country as her career. “Sorry. Unless he walks right up to me and tells me his story, you’re out of luck. There’s no way I’m going to make Darius abuse his position to get us a story. It’s wrong.”

Daphne shook her head in mock sympathy. “And here I thought you had the makings of a real journalist.”

Tessa tried to ignore the jab as she and Rufus made their way to the senate. She believed in the truth, but that didn’t mean taking the immoral routes Daphne always seemed to suggest.

“Darius can only sign in one guest,” Tessa told Rufus as they approached the senate steps. “Do you mind waiting? There are a few cafes around here.”

Rufus frowned. “I’m not supposed to leave you.”

“It’s just like leaving me at school,” she explained. “You trust their security. It’s probably better here.”