Ian didn't move. "Um, I...I can't do that. I won't turn over my entire body to the Colony. I have to take care of Rinn."

"Spousal rights are total, so I do not understand your hesitation." Met cocked his head to the right, studying him. "This is what you've trained for." At Ian's continued silence, Met's eyebrows met as he furrowed his brow. "You do not intend to register?"

"It's just...." Ian closed his eyes and exhaled. "I can't right now. I've changed my mind."

"Oh?" Met sucked his teeth. "Red did not mention that you were undecided."

"It's not her fault. It's on me." Ian returned the stare. "I trained with Red in good faith, and I owe her my life in more ways than one. But I can't. I cannot assign myself to the Colony. It ain't my Colony."

"And why is that?" When Ian was silent, Met studied him and nodded. "You are making yet another wager. Am I correct? You see something better in the distance, just beyond your grasp."

"I have plans," Ian muttered under his breath. "Just now, when I was about to give up, Rinn came back. She woke up. That's f—"

He stopped himself and Met reached down into his right boot to pull out a strip of metal. When he squeezed the rod, it doubled in length, reaching roughly twelve inches.

Valentina was a problem; she watched Rinn unabashed.

"Fate?" Met asked. "Were you about to say it's fate?"

Ian's face heated. "What if I was?"

"Do you know that fate is a lie?"

Met crossed the room. He held the thin twelve-inch silver rod out and shook it once. The object unfolded into a wire-framed chair. "Do you mind terribly if I sit? I find it difficult to keep authority while standing in such a small space."

The low ceiling took Ian's focus. Met was taller than Ian by a few inches, one characteristic that served as a downside due to the cramped confines of the room. Although sitting down diminished most people's presence, Ian was surprised to see that Met's relaxed posture and folded arms were far more unsettling. The enforcer sat, all-knowing but not smug, monotone but not apathetic, and completely confident.

Val winced. As one of the Colony's lead engineers, and as one of the highest-ranking Elementals in defense, she was legendary for stealing thoughts at will. Ian needed to get these two people out as soon as possible.

Met looked up at her but focused on Ian yet again. "And you believe in fate, don't you?"

"A little," Ian confessed, palms sweaty.

"If the future is already set by fate, then why wager?" Met's blue eyes narrowed. "I think it must be luck. You should be in the grave ten times over. You live on the edge in hopes of one day falling off. Yet you continue to thrive. Rather than fate, isn't that just dumb luck?"

One of the various cushions on the floor tickled Ian's right heel, but he tried to ignore it. He was hesitant to move, like a mouse caught in the gaze of a snake.

"I...I ain't trying to kill myself." Ian swallowed hard, his throat tightening. He pushed back all thoughts of the night before. That was an act of desperation—an act of mercy and necessity. "If—if you're here for that."

"All gambling is a secret wish for destruction. Every day you step into the ring, knowing you might not get out. You take a risk."

Ian stood at the ready. He couldn't bring himself to relax; there was nothing comforting to focus on. The bareness of his flat reminded him of a tomb—made all the more distressing because of the dangerous man sitting casually before him and the equally uncooperative woman lying on the floor at his back.

"No. If I die, no one will take care of Rinn. It's no risk; I only take fights I'll win," Ian replied, confident. "And I win every fight I take."

"And when you lose?"

"I told you, I don't take fights I can't win—"

"Then that means you believe you have a chance against me."

Ian froze.

"Because your interest in my wife means only that."

Ian took a cautious step back, calming once he felt Rinn's clammy skin against his ankle. The cold body was a comfort, and he was thankful Rinn didn't bite at him or otherwise freak out due to the physical contact.

"If you're here for an eye for an eye, just know that I ain't done nothing. There's no need to—"

"She stops training you as of today. Are we clear?"

That was an easy enough promise. "We're clear," Ian agreed.

"The fact that you make it common knowledge that your trainer's an Elemental might garner you respect, but it puts her at risk. And the way you depend on her—"

"I ain't depending on nobody. I've fought for what I've got."

"You are either very daring or incredibly stupid." Met's glare turned cold. "I found myself pondering that when I saw that although you are trying to test into the ranks of our top soldiers, you are also involved in some questionable dealings."

Ian took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I'm done with all that."

"And the receptors? How long will you last if they are no longer dormant? Do you know what will happen if you do not find a way to control them?"

With a grim frown, Ian muttered, "I have a good idea."

"Let me paint you a picture: the energy surges will grow; it will get so unbearable that you can no longer walk. You'll be forced to lie down as those energy charges race through you, and you'll die in fantastic pain as you not only starve but are burned from the inside out for days. So, I can either allow that to happen and hear about how cold and cruel I am for not doing something to hinder it, or I can give you a mercy killing and hear how awful I am for that, too. Either way, I see a bad day ahead for me." He sighed through his nose. "You've put me in a very uncomfortable position."

Ian nodded; eyes cast down to hide his embarrassment. "I'm sorry for that."

"When I gave you those receptors, I hesitated to make you my problem. But at Red's insistence, I offered them in lieu of an execution. Fifteen corpses is a very high number; you carry a lot of guilt for being responsible for that. I do not think your own home country would be so generous as to offer receptors to their criminals and allow them to roam with other citizens. All that we ask in return is that you keep on the straight and narrow, and the receptors stay under control. Walking around with them showing sends the wrong message; it makes the guards look careless. I gave them to you in good faith with the understanding that you'd not engage Red in—"

"Met, believe me, I ain't engaged her in nothing. It was a crush. Ain't like she acknowledged it much less. She—"

Frowning, Met held up his hand for silence. "So since I can't get rid of you," he continued, "I'm going to go with an old philosophy. I'm going to embrace that which causes me the most annoyance right now: you."

"If you'll just—"

Val winced again, sagging.

This time Met didn't ignore her plight. 'What is it?"

"This...." Val scanned the room then focused on Rinn. Whatever she found in the woman's gaze, it bothered her. "She's...she's blocking me."

Met's blue eyes settled on Rinn. "That's unlikely." At Val's next wince, he told her, "Wait outside. I will call you when he's ready to register. Bring the machine with you."

Eyes cast low, Val pushed down on the puzzle-like frame until the machine's parts fit snugly together.

"Damn," Val growled, sagging. "Ow."

Met sat up. "Should I help?"

"No. Don't leave him alone with her. But I have to get out of this room." Instead of taking the machine by both handles, Val yanked it up onto her back with one hand and darted for the door. She met up on a problem. "Dad?"

Looking up, Met said, "System, open the door."

Nothing. No answer. Met stood and passed his daughter. When he touched the wall, the door slid open and Val rushed out, gasping.

Ian looked from Val's haggard frame, to Rinn again. He puzzled over how she managed this. When Met returned, Ian steeled himself for whatever fall out was in store. They were just responsible for the injury of a Colony official, after all. Valentina's ranking was sure to serve as a factor in whatever punishment was doled out.

To his surprise, Met sat and folded his arms again.

"Let us continue," Met said. "The first solution I want to offer you is to prolong your reign of mischief. The receptors. What do you propose?"

"I understand your position," Ian said, eager to not broach a topic with Rinn as the subject. When Met waited for more, he tried to oblige. "And I appreciate them. The solution you've suggested, though...ELETE is beyond me. I can't."

"The nanos they will implant can help us analyze the receptors and see why they're suddenly working overtime. With the receptors on full blast, you won't last the month. It is in your best interest to take this job."

He said it as if it was a generous offer, and in a sick fashion, allowing him the option of signing his body over as property to the Colony was, to Met, a kind gesture. But there was no money in it—and no way to get Rinn back to New York. No. ELETE was no longer a viable option.

"You're like a drowning man reaching for a straw—the more you go crazy, the worse the pain will get. I expected more from you." Met stood to go, pausing to regard Rinn curiously once more. "You're pretty hard to get rid of, Tellman. So I'm going to give you some advice: stop letting your fear propel you forward. Life is a struggle. It's just as hard as, if not harder than, the blood sports you participate in. If you really want to tempt fate, you should try actually playing the cards you've been dealt for once."

He looked over his shoulder at Ian as he tugged on the chair, which swung up and folded into a rod once more.

"Whatever you do, make certain it doesn't involve my wife."

Embarrassed, Ian kept his head down. "Hey, could...could you get the ELETEs outta my hair? Like the Suicide Watch. I don't need that. I'm okay now."

Met slowed in his turn. "Suicide Watch? You've had some sort of unexpected visitor?"

"Yeah, a medic. She came to my door but...but I'm okay now."

Met's right eyebrow rose, "Two things: firstly, do you think a division so coveted that people train for years to get in would put out any special resources for the likes of you?"

Ian flinched as if he'd been struck.

It was a twisted expression at first, one that matured into a grin. "And secondly, considering my position, do you really think I'd do anything to hinder you from doing away with yourself? A suicidal ELETE seems a bit redundant. There's no such thing as a Suicide Watch."

For a split second, Ian wondered if he'd blacked out or if a blood vessel in his brain had popped, because he could only stare at Met, dumbfounded.

Ian's blood ran cold.

Met faced him. Pale blue eyes narrowed, Met fought back a smirk. "Perhaps I am experiencing some luck myself as well. So someone's wasting their time trying to collect a debt?"

"Wasting their time?"

"Of course. Despite what I might think of you, you would never let anyone touch your bare skin."

Flashes of the medic came and went. Staggering back, Ian fought down his panic. "What? But why? I'm nobody."

The slight glint of amusement in Met's eyes faded. "You have allowed physical touch?"

All life vanished as Ian closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. "Yes." Body trembling, Ian shook his head. "That...that...."

Met waited and his tone was level when he asked, "Tellman, what is going on with you?"

"I'm losing my fucking mind, that's what." Ian asked, "Are you saying I got robbed?"

"That depends. Did she take information or something tangible? It's unlikely that it was info. You're a lot of things, but you're not sloppy. You wouldn't allow a stranger to touch your skin willingly. So let's assume it's something tangible."

Ian hunched over, bracing his hands on his knees to steady himself; it didn't help.

"You touched her in return?" Met asked, awed.

After swallowing hard again, Ian nodded. "Y—yeah. For...for a bit." Rinn watched them, unabashed, and Ian spoke softer in hopes of keeping the conversation between them, something he knew was unlikely. "But nothing intimate."

Met's expression turned cold. "Lying to me won't help you. You know I could care less what you do in your personal life. It's only when you involve my family or the Colony that I'm concerned. And what I'm concerned about is the fact that you are making one bad decision after another. This isn't going to end happily for you."

After a grueling bout of silence, Ian confessed. "It wasn't...that intimate. But...but it was enough."

"So she did make physical contact with you intimately?" Met sighed. "Tellman, are you stupid?"

Ian chuckled to mask his hurt pride. "Looks that way."

He appreciated the fact that Met took on a somewhat gentler tone.

"Did you put up any resistance?"

That wasn't really a question Ian was sure he could answer. Eventually, he shook his head. "Not fast enough." After swallowing hard, Ian glanced back at Rinn but couldn't hold his gaze there for long. He asked Met, "But why? You said it yourself, I'm low on the food chain. What information could she take from me? What info do I got that's worth taking? One that's worth sending a Sabe to get?"

Met cocked his head. "I do not know. That would require an investigation, and as I've said, you are no longer my concern. I've made a promise to my wife to keep you breathing, but you've worked tirelessly to make that task difficult."

Ian's face still burned, and he couldn't meet the man's gaze.

"Unlike Red," Met said, "I see no sense in helping the hopeless. It looks like fate's on my side now instead." He made his way to the door. "But you should be fine. Just so long as you didn't fall for the secondary authentication trick."

"Huh?" was all Ian could manage.

"A fresh cadet's considered authentic to a point. They could request a secondary authentication which requires the house-bearers name. It's a good way to get access to someone's public records. But we both know you're not that foolish."

Wearing a weak grimace, Ian nodded. "Right."

To Ian's shock, the man turned to bow at Rinn.

"Good day, Mrs. Broderick."

Met was nice to women. Never had Ian guessed the man could be nice to anyone. He half expected Red to tell him that her marriage to the man was brought about by the loss of a bet.

"Yes. See you...Met."

Ian said a silent prayer when Met reached the door—maybe they would make it out of this.

"Wait," Rinn called out.

Cringing, Ian turned to eye her in hate.

"Could...." Rinn glanced at Ian then turned her sweet smile on Met. "Could, could I get some OFUS?"

"OFUS?" Met turned to her. "What a strange request." He focused on Ian. "Is your husband all right with that?"

Meeting that questioning gaze, Ian scrambled for an answer. He didn't know what that was.

"Of course, he is." Rinn chimed in. "My husband's just too proud to ask on his own. You see...I'm just a bit bolder."

After considering it, Met reached down into one of his leg pockets and retrieved a small vial.

"I was under the impression that you come from the outside, the same as Tellman. I find it surprising that you know about this...know that every guard carries it at all times, too."

Rinn's shaky smile wavered. "He told you that he was an Outsider?" Her chuckle didn't match the contempt in her voice. "What an idiot."

Met's laughter was genuine, however. "Yes. Telling the top guard that you are prone to seek escape from the very Colony he's sworn to keep safe is rather foolish." He crouched down to face her and all pleasantness faded. "OFUS? What a very uncommon way to refer to adrenaline."

Ian gasped.

Met handed it over but pulled it back. He looked between the two of them, suspicious.

"Well, I'm sure you'd rather your husband help you. So I'll just give it to him, shall I?"

Met remained crouched but Ian took a step forward.

Those cold blue eyes focused on him.

"But then I'd like him to explain why dormant protocols were accessed here today. And then," he said, focusing on Rinn again. "I'd ask how a so-called Outsider knows how to use them."

No one moved. After looking between them once more, Met put the vial down on the floor, turned and made his way to the exit.

"Good day, Tellman." Met didn't look back as he called over his shoulder. "If you are, in fact, getting visits from fake Suicide Watchers, I wouldn't go for any long walks. I've got a feeling you won't make it too far. Or maybe that is just wishful thinking on my part." The door opened without his verbal prompting. Once he stepped out, it closed again with a whoosh.

And then there were two of them.

Rinn and Ian met eyes then darted for the vial.

Ian leapt. Rinn sprung to her feet and kicked him in the gut. He barely had time to process what was happening. She jumped on top of him, knee pressed to his chest.

"How in the hell can you move?" Ian marveled. He refocused when she raised something at him.

The vial.

Ian looked from it to her and back again.

"Oh, you thought this was for me?" Rinn grinned. "Nah, this shit's for you and your receptors." She bit off the cap and slammed the needle down into his chest. "Five years, my ass."