The secure conference suite was smaller than the main room—low ceiling, soundproofing panels, no windows, and a long table that felt too narrow for the number of people gathering around it. The air smelled faintly of old carpet and stress.
Isaac sat beside Julie, fingers laced so tightly she had to touch his wrist to remind him to breathe. Nathan and Ina sat across from them, each calm in their own practiced way.
The door opened.
The American delegation entered first.
Three people:
- a Department of Energy undersecretary
- a State Department science envoy
- and a quiet man with no identifying badge, who did not introduce himself
All shook hands perfunctorily. Two attempted smiles. None reached their eyes.
The DOE undersecretary spoke before she even sat down.
“Let’s begin. We don’t have much time.”
The UK ministers stiffened.
She placed a folder on the table—thick, tabbed, and color-coded like a legal weapon.
“We’re here because your environmental grid detected a signature near Sellafield that should not exist without advanced cross-domain modeling.”
Ina’s expression didn’t change.
Julie watched the American’s hands.
Steady.
Trained.
Prepared for pushback.
Isaac felt the knot in his stomach tighten.
The envoy continued.
“We need access to the underlying AGPI and FAEI architecture. Not summaries. Not sanitized outputs. The real thing.”
The Home Secretary bristled.
“That is not on the table.”
“It is,” the envoy replied, voice still calm, “unless the United Kingdom intends to jeopardize sixty years of defense and research cooperation.”
The quiet man without a name remained silent, but the weight of his presence made the threat feel colder.
Julie heard Isaac inhale sharply.
Nathan leaned forward, tone deceptively light.
“What exactly is Washington implying?”
The DOE official slid a document across the table.
“Trade reconsiderations. Joint research freezes. Suspension of intelligence-sharing frameworks pending review.”
The Home Secretary made a strangled noise.
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Ina simply said, “Noted.”
The American envoy raised her chin slightly.
“You discovered something. Something powerful. Possibly destabilizing. We need to understand it before anyone else misinterprets it.”
Before the UK could respond, the door opened again.
The EU delegation walked in.
Three people as well:
- the European Commissioner for Research and Innovation
- an environmental risk advisor
- and a legal attaché carrying a thick stack of regulatory printouts
The Commissioner didn’t bother sitting before speaking.
“Our concern is transparency,” she said. “A discovery such as this”—she tapped the Sellafield anomaly report—“cannot be held by a single nation. Especially not when its implications cross every boundary of environmental, medical, and scientific policy.”
The Home Secretary groaned softly. “Not you as well.”
The Commissioner’s tone sharpened.
“We are not here under diplomatic cover. We are here because the European Parliament expects guarantees of safety. You have a system capable of identifying radioactive decay patterns without specialized sensors. That is not environmental mapping. That is advanced inference. And it is not accounted for under any existing agreement.”
The American undersecretary bristled. “We were speaking.”
“We are speaking now,” the Commissioner said, perfectly cordial.
The two delegations faced each other like tectonic plates grinding.
The MOD liaison whispered to the Foreign Secretary:
“They’re not here for us. They’re here for each other.”
Ina heard it.
She smiled—barely.
The Commissioner set a document on the table.
“We propose immediate EU oversight in line with Horizon treaties and all cross-border safety protocols.”
The US envoy’s eyes narrowed.
“Absolutely not.”
“You do not get to decide that,” the Commissioner replied.
“Neither do you,” the American countered.
The UK delegation looked increasingly trapped between continents.
Nathan finally spoke, voice cool as steel.
“Everyone here understands you’re not actually demanding oversight from the UK.”
Both delegations turned.
Nathan continued.
“You’re demanding oversight from each other.”
The Americans stiffened.
The Commissioner’s jaw tightened.
Ina picked up where Nathan left off, her tone unnervingly gentle.
“The United Kingdom cannot give FAEI to the United States.
Nor can it give FAEI to the European Union.”
Silence.
She folded her hands.
“And neither of you would tolerate the other receiving it first.”
No one contradicted her.
Julie felt Isaac’s pulse jump beside her.
Nathan leaned back in his chair, the faintest hint of satisfaction crossing his expression.
Ina’s voice grew softer still.
“So the only viable option is one neither of you wants to say aloud.”
The Commissioner exhaled slowly.
“The UN.”
The American envoy didn’t look pleased, but she didn’t deny it.
Isaac felt a chill run down his spine.
The DOE undersecretary spoke reluctantly.
“A scientific multilateral council… would allow shared oversight.”
“And prevent either of you from dominating the other,” Ina added.
The envoy swallowed.
“That would need… conditions.”
“Of course,” Ina said.
“Everyone will have conditions.”
The Commissioner lifted an eyebrow.
“And what are the UK’s conditions?”
Ina didn’t look at Isaac when she answered.
But Julie did.
She already knew.
“Before anything else,” Ina said clearly, “one item must be off the table forever.”
The room held its breath.
“The Catalyst,” she said.
“We implement a clause prohibiting its reproduction, modeling, or dissemination under any circumstances. It is sealed and classified at the highest international level.”
The EU delegation went still.
The American envoy closed her eyes for a moment—absorbing the severity.
The unnamed man finally spoke, voice low.
“…That is acceptable.”
It was the first time he had spoken.
And it carried more weight than any threat made earlier.
The Commissioner nodded.
“As long as it is permanent.”
“It will be,” Ina said.
Isaac stared down at his hands.
Julie squeezed one gently.
Nathan looked at them—at Isaac, at Julie—and something softened in his expression that almost never did.
He understood what this cost them.
The American envoy closed her folder.
“Then we move forward,” she said.
“With the UN.”
No applause.
No relief.
Only the quiet recognition that the negotiations had begun,
and none of them had any real control anymore.