Page 107 of The Atom Between Us

The last door opened on a low hiss of recycled air.

And the future waited inside.

The inside felt colder than the rest of the tunnels, as if someone had built it to hold the memory of old Authority chill. The red bulbs overhead were the only light; they made the air look bruised, thick with shadows. The benches circled the room in tiers, each ring higher than the last, all of them fixed on the battered concrete stage at the bottom. There was a table there, metal gone white with years of touch, and behind it sat the council.

I counted six. Maybe more, hard to tell in the red. All different shapes—two broad-shouldered, ex-military types, one round-faced woman with silver piercings, a stick-thin man who looked half asleep, and a couple of others who watched from the edges, arms crossed, faces set. Some wore patched uniforms, some wore rags, all wore the look of people who’d lived underground for too long.

Maven led the way, not flinching as the eyes landed on us. Kang walked just behind, shoulders squared, jaw locked. I came last, my arm still throbbing under Maven’s expert wrap, the rest of me running on stubbornness and whatever passed for adrenaline these days.

The instant Kang cleared the doorway, the murmur started.

“Authority—”

“Fucking tourist, like I said⁠—”

“He’s not even hiding the badge⁠—”

The woman with the piercings stood up, her face a shiny coin in the gloom. She pointed a finger at Kang, then at Maven, her voice cutting through the noise like a bone saw. “Explain yourself. Now.”

Maven waited until the echoes faded. “He’s with us,” they said, voice dry and level. “Helped Diana escape. He brought intel—real files, not the scraps Authority leaves behind. That’s more than any of you have done this week.”

Someone else—a squat, barrel-chested man—snorted. “So we’re just letting Authority walk into the heart of Sanctuary now? You want to read us the rules next, Maven? Maybe make us line up for roll call?”

Kang’s hands didn’t move, but I saw the way his jaw flexed, the pulse of muscle in his neck. The councilwoman kept her eyes on him, not even blinking. “Why should we trust anything he says?”

Maven’s lips twitched, but they didn’t smile. “Because he could have brought a squad. He didn’t. Because he could have reported our location. He didn’t. Because he risked his own neck to get her out.” Maven gestured at me without turning. “And because the world outside is one bullet away from ending us all. We need every ally we can get.”

“Or every traitor,” the round-faced woman spat.

“Let her speak for herself,” called someone from the benches—a thin voice, reedy, more curious than angry.

I caught Kang’s eye for a second. He looked back, then dropped his gaze to the floor. For all his Authority training, he looked more haunted than I ever had.

Maven stepped forward, into the full red glare. “You want proof?” They reached into their coat and tossed a chip onto the table. “That’s the Authority comm logs. Access codes. Patrol schedules. Kang brought them to us.” Maven’s voice got louder. “He didn’t have to. But he did.”

The councilman with the melted ear finally spoke, voice slow and thick. “None of that matters if it’s bait.” His gaze fixed on Kang, then on me. “Why’s she here?”

Maven looked at me, the signal clear.

I opened my mouth and found my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “He could have left me for dead, too,” I said, forcing the words through the band of pain in my chest. “Instead, he ran with me. He got shot for it.” I saw Kang’s jaw twitch at that, but he didn’t meet my eyes.

The benches went quiet.

Maven put both hands on the table, voice dropping. “We take in runaways, convicts, and Authority defectors. That’s our code. If you want to throw it out, do it now.”

Nobody moved. The silence stretched, heavy as water.

Finally, the pierced woman sat, eyes still locked on Kang. “You’re responsible for him,” she told Maven. “He fucks up, it’s on you.”

“Fine by me,” Maven said.

The matter was settled. Not resolved, but settled.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

The rest of the council started talking over each other—about food, water, drone sweeps on the north tunnel, the riot I’d left in my wake. But under it all, every so often, I caught a pair of eyes flick to Kang, then to me, then away.

He stayed perfectly still, hands folded in his lap, the line of his mouth tight as a scar.