Chapter 177: Don’t Make My Decisions for Me

Four dossiers lay across the cleared breakfast table: Astra’s en-ergy assignment, Eleanor’s sovereign function, Sylvia’s archive po-sition, and Evelyn’s maintenance role.

Lucian laid a fresh sheet over all four.

One word crossed the parchment in elegant red ink.

DECLINED.

Astra looked up from her strawberry toast. “Did you sign that for me?”

His quill stopped.

Evelyn lowered her coffee. Sylvia paused with her own pen in hand. Eleanor folded her arms.

“I’m protecting everyone’s interests,” Lucian said. “And bodily integrity.”

“By signing for us?” Evelyn asked.

He looked down at the sheet, then turned it facedown. “It’s a discussion draft.”

“The ink was already dry when I arrived,” Sylvia said. Lucian put the quill down.

He had spent years arranging things so other people couldn’t make his decisions. Apparently his friends were entitled to the same irritating privilege.

Eleanor leaned back.

“What if I choose something you think is stupid?” “I’ll explain why it’s stupid. With spreadsheets.” “And if I listen, then choose it anyway?”

He considered that.

“I’ll continue to think it’s stupid.”

Eleanor laughed. “Good. You’re still in there.”

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Lucian called up the System’s decision-support panel.

[HOST REQUEST]

Should the candidates be forcibly prevented from accepting temporary Keystone assignments?

[OUTSIDE SYSTEM AUTHORITY]

Capability to prevent an action does not establish the right to prevent it. Consent cannot be supplied by a compatibility score.

[AVAILABLE FORCE]

Host could attempt to physically stop the candidates. Would this resolve the question of personal freedom? NO.

He dismissed the window.

“One of the rare occasions when refusing to answer is useful.”

The ancient regulations distinguished three stages. Observation recorded data. Temporary synchronization allowed an operator to withdraw through an approved release procedure. Permanent Keystone Lock made departure physically impossible.

The temporary stage did contain an exit clause. It was buried beneath enough approvals and procedural requirements to keep a person there until the word temporary lost all meaning.

That was a problem Lucian knew how to attack.

He picked up the red-lettered refusal and tore it in half.

Then he put four blank sheets in front of the four people at the table and pulled up a chair.

“All right. One at a time. What do you want to do?”

A servant passed the open door at precisely the wrong moment.

Before Sylvia had finished writing her first line, the guards out-side were whispering about Lucian personally appointing four Keystone goddesses.

Inside, Sylvia circled the withdrawal provisions.

“Any temporary agreement needs a maximum term, an uncondi-tional right to leave, and fresh written consent for renewal. No inherited obligation. No soul binding.” She looked at Lucian. “An employment contract that doesn’t let you quit isn’t an employ-ment contract.”

He nodded, then turned to Astra.

She was turning a silver spoon between her fingers.

“Are you sure you want to hold the energy supply?” he asked. “No.”

He looked at her. “But I still choose to.”

Lucian had prepared arguments for bravado. He had several excellent responses to martyrdom.

He had nothing ready for that.

Astra rested her hand on the dossier.

“I’ll go first. Three months maximum. If it hurts too much, I quit.” “Two months.”

“Three.”

“Two and a half. Final offer.” Eleanor covered her forehead.

“Are you two haggling over how long she has to power a conti-nent?”