They sent her at dawn.
A sleek black vehicle crawled over the ruins like a beetle gliding across cracked stone—too quiet for its size, armored in a way that screamed surveillance over combat. It stopped just outside the camp's outer perimeter.
One person stepped out.
No escort.
No weapons visible.
Which only meant she didn't need any.
Vivian watched from the lookout tower, her scope trained on the woman's hands. "She's alone. Or she wants us to think that."
James stood at her side, silent.
The woman walked forward steadily, each step deliberate, as though marking territory with her boots. She wore a matte gray coat with the UNO insignia barely visible on the shoulder—a circle of nations fractured by five sharp spokes.
James descended the ladder before the others could move.
This meeting had to be his.
At the gate, he opened it himself.
"I'm James," he said.
The woman smiled faintly. "Lieutenant Mara Kaelen. Observer Division, Internal Order Bureau. I appreciate the welcome."
Her tone was polite. Efficient. A little too neutral, as if rehearsed in a mirror.
"Let's skip the tour," she added. "I've reviewed satellite imagery, recon sweeps, and your inventory declaration. I'd rather observe the human element. Decision-making. Morale. Cooperation."
James gave her a nod, already reading her posture, her tone, the subtle tilt of her chin. She wasn't just here to observe.
She was here to test.
"Then you'll see what you need," James replied. "We're an honest operation."
A lie wrapped in a smile.
---
They gave her a tent near the edge of camp. Far enough to isolate her, close enough to observe them.
James assigned Erika and Mason to shadow her rotation without making it obvious. Ray prepped the fallback comms just in case, while Vivian quietly disabled every surveillance risk within the perimeter—except the ones James wanted her to find.
"If she's sharp, she'll notice the dummy drone sensor by the southeast fence," James said.
"And if she doesn't?" Vivian asked.
"Then she's not the real threat."
---
Mara began her assessments that afternoon.
She moved like a scientist—cold but curious—speaking to Ella at the registry station, questioning Ray about supply chains, even inspecting the kitchen rotation and hygiene reports with unnerving calm.
No demands. No threats.
Only watching.
Taking notes.
And beneath it all, the quiet tension of something unspoken.
That night, James called a private meeting in the war tent.
"She's not logging her full reports," Mason said, flipping through intercepted data. "Only summary entries are reaching the relay—just enough to suggest she's still evaluating."
"Which means she's either protecting something… or stalling," Erika added.
James tapped the table. "She's smart. But no one walks into a wolf's den without backup. I want all exterior scouts tripled. If she's here, someone's listening."
Vivian spoke next. "Do we move to turn her? Or just keep feeding her lies?"
James didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pulled a small device from his pocket—sleek, black, with a soft pulsing core. The Advanced Interrogation Suite, courtesy of the system.
"It starts tomorrow," he said. "Face-to-face."
---
The next day, James invited Mara for a walk.
Not an interrogation. Not a strategy session.
Just a walk along the camp's perimeter, where the wind moved dust like whispers and silence wasn't suspicious.
He carried the AI device in a small satchel, connected to an earpiece tucked behind his collar. It would detect tone shifts, microexpressions, involuntary tells.
At first, she made small talk—asking about population counts, sanitation, weather tolerance.
Then, casually: "How did you respond to President Voss's registration mandate?"
"Same as everyone," James said. "With caution."
The device pinged: Neutral. Believable. No flag.
"Some resisted more openly. Your group didn't."
"I believe in measured survival," he said.
Ping: Sincerity. Calculated honesty. No flag.
She nodded, slowly. "And if the UNO offered your people full integration? Underground access. Rations. Safety."
James stopped walking, letting the pause stretch.
Then: "Would we still be free?"
Ping: Emotional spike detected – Controlled hostility masked by inquiry.
Mara looked at him carefully. "Not all orders are cages. Some are lifelines."
"And not all cages look like bars," James replied.
Ping: Echoed psychological defense detected.
They stood at the fence line for a long moment, the wind fluttering her coat.
Then she said something unexpected.
"My brother was with a surface unit before the collapse. He refused transfer underground. Said the sky mattered more than safety."
James studied her face.
There was no tell. No crack.
But the device buzzed softly in his ear.
Contradiction detected. Emotional stress – Truth mixed with deception.
"Is he still alive?" he asked gently.
Her eyes flicked away. "I don't know."
Ping: Detected falsehood.
So there it was.
A seam.
Something to pull on.
---
Later that night, James recorded a note to himself beneath the hum of the generator:
"She doesn't trust the system. Not entirely. There's loss there. Maybe guilt. Maybe rebellion. I'll find it. Not to break her—but to show her there's another way to survive."
He closed the recorder.
The camp moved on around him—teams rotating, walls patrolled, plans laid out in ink and blood.
But now the UNO was inside.
Watching.
Measuring.
And perhaps… crumbling.
All James had to do was nudge.
---