Swipe Right
Copyright© 2026 by Sci-FiTy1972
Chapter 28: Known Pieces
“Is it still a mole,” Darius asked quietly, “if you already know where it is?”
Amina didn’t answer right away.
They stood together in the observation ring, the Moon’s curve steady beneath them, ARK-1’s lights glowing with the calm confidence of something that knew exactly what it was built to do. Traffic moved below—shuttles, cargo, people finding rhythm. Life, continuing.
“It depends,” she said at last, “on whether you’re afraid of the board.”
Darius smiled faintly.
“Funny,” he said. “I was just telling my nephew something similar.”
She glanced at him. “Chess?”
“Endgames,” he replied. “Specifically rushing them.”
Amina nodded. “People always want the dramatic move. They forget the board remembers everything.”
They didn’t need to name her.
The Russian woman was the elephant in the ARK, and everyone who mattered knew it.
Not as gossip.
As geometry.
“She’s careful,” Amina said. “She doesn’t reach where she shouldn’t. She doesn’t ask the wrong questions.”
“That’s how you know she’s asking the right ones,” Darius replied.
He rested his hands on the rail, posture loose, unthreatened.
“When I was younger,” he continued, “I thought the goal was to remove threats as soon as you saw them. Neutralize. Clear the field.”
“And now?” Amina asked.
“Now I know that removing a piece doesn’t end the game,” he said. “It just hides who was playing it.”
Amina’s expression softened—not agreement, exactly, but recognition.
“In my people’s histories,” she said, “we learned something similar. The most dangerous adversary is the one you force back into shadow.”
Darius nodded. “At least this way, she’s on the board.”
“And visible,” Amina added.
They watched in silence as the Russian operative crossed the concourse below, speaking with two engineers, laughing easily, perfectly at ease.
“She thinks she’s positioning,” Amina said.
“She is,” Darius replied. “Just not where she thinks.”
Amina tilted her head. “You’re feeding her.”
“Selective truths,” he said. “Bounded spaces. Clean data with narrow context.”
“That will frustrate her handlers,” Amina observed.
“Yes,” Darius agreed. “And teach them something.”
Amina smiled slightly. “Which is?”
“That we don’t move unless we mean to.”
The NeuralNook formed around her without ceremony.
Neutral geometry. No sharp edges. No sense of enclosure—just a gentle adjustment of space, as if the room had decided to pay closer attention.
The Russian woman settled into the chair with practiced calm.
This wasn’t her first time.
She understood altered states. Controlled environments. The mental discipline required to navigate them without leaving residue.
The transition came softly.
Not sleep.
Not quite waking.
Time ... tilted.
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