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“Your dead identity is sitting in a reproductive database.”

“Yes.”

“And somebody gave you bad information about me.”

His eyes sharpened.

I held his gaze. “I’m not asking you to hand me every secret you have.”

“Then what are you asking?”

“Enough to know what I’m looking at.”

That seemed to reach him. He stayed silent for several seconds. The remains of dinner sat between us.

Outside, somebody laughed in the lane below. The sound carried faintly through the window. It made our conversation feel even stranger.

Then Veyr pulled the terminal closer. “This section identifies a biometric classification.”

He pointed to the first part.

I leaned in. “This sequence?”

“Yes.”

“And the second?”

“Operational designation.”

“Ghost?”

His hand stopped. There. Again.

I looked at him.

His face closed.

“That word means something.”

“You have heard it before.”

“From you?”

“No.”

I searched my memory.

Maybe in the lab.

Maybe one of Sera’n’s notes.

Maybe—

“I saw it.”

Veyr’s entire attention settled on me. “Where?”

“I don’t know.”