The contract glowed in Rajendra's vision, the fine print a venomous serpent coiled at its base. One day on the Moon. Vex wasn't just a predator; he was a strategist. He wanted a legal beachhead, a system-sanctioned Trojan horse.
Rajendra's mind, honed by months of dual existence in shadow and light, shifted into a cold, calculative gear. This was not a moment for despair. It was a negotiation. And every clause, even a hidden one, was a point to be countered.
He did not reject the contract. He amended it.
Rajendra (Earth-Prime): Clause 7 (Lunar Access) is unacceptable and extraneous to the core exchange. It is removed. The offer stands: Glyth coordinates for your permanent, sworn withdrawal. Final.
He sent the amended version back. It was a test. How badly did Vex want Glyth? Badly enough to drop the sneaky foothold?
The reply was instantaneous.
Vex: The lunar calibration is essential to verify the coordinates are not a primitive forgery. Non-negotiable. Six hours of access. Not a day.
He had budged. From a day to six hours. He was negotiating on the duration, not the act. This confirmed Rajendra's worst fear: the Moon access was the real prize. Glyth was the lure, but the foothold in the Sol system was the hook.
Rajendra leaned back, the walls of his chawl room feeling like the bridge of a starship under siege. He couldn't allow it. But outright refusal meant Vex's countdown would continue, and he had no shield, no army.
He needed a third option. A merchant's option: make the other party want to drop the clause.
He accessed the massive, chaotic data-log from the Mad Scientist. He couldn't parse it all, but he could search. He focused on the "Glyth" fragments. The logs were damaged, a jumble of corrupted coordinates, spectral analyses, and… warning tags. He pushed through the noise.
And he found it. Not just coordinates. A System-generated hazard report attached to the Glyth entry.
[Fragment-World: Glyth. Status: Necrotic/Crystalline.]
[Primary Hazard: Resonance Cascade. The psycho-reactive crystalline matrix is unstable. Introduction of high-grade scanning or teleportation energy signatures (Standard Tier-3 and above) has a 78% probability of triggering a localized dimensional collapse, erasing the fragment and anything within 0.5 AU.]
[Recommendation: Passive, low-energy observation only. Material extraction is Class-10 Hazardous.]
A trap. Glyth wasn't just a treasure vault; it was a dimensional minefield. Vex's "calibration" on the Moon would likely involve high-energy scans. If he used similar tech to verify the Glyth coordinates from there, he could blow the prize to cosmic dust before he ever reached it.
Rajendra smiled, a thin, sharp thing. He had his counter.
He crafted a new message to Vex. He did not send the hazard report. That was his hole card. Instead, he appealed to the predator's paranoia.
Rajendra (Earth-Prime): I understand your need for verification. However, granting you a technological foothold in my star system is an unacceptable security risk. Instead, I propose a System-mediated, neutral verification.
Procedure: We both submit the coordinates to a System escrow. The System will perform a passive, low-energy confirmation of the coordinate validity against its own universal cartography. A simple yes/no. If yes, the coordinates are released to you, and your non-interference pact with Earth-Prime is simultaneously activated. No lunar access required. A clean, safe trade.
It was the perfect merchant's solution. It used the System as a trusted third party. It addressed the verification need while protecting his world.
He sent it. And then, he attached the System hazard report on Glyth as a separate, follow-up message. His tone was one of helpful, concerned ignorance.
Rajendra (Earth-Prime): In the spirit of transparent dealing, I am forwarding a fragment from my data-source regarding Glyth. It appears to be some sort of… safety warning. My technical knowledge is limited. Perhaps it is relevant to your verification methods?
He fired the second message.
The silence that followed was profound. The timer ticked. 29 days, 20 hours.
When Vex's reply came, the tone had changed. The smug aggression was gone, replaced by a cold, focused intensity.
Vex: Where did you acquire this log?
Rajendra (Earth-Prime): Trade secret. Do you accept the System-escrow verification proposal?
Vex: The hazard data is… known to me. The escrow proposal is acceptable. Draft the contract.
Victory. A clean, safe victory. Rajendra let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He quickly drafted the new contract, using the System's template for neutral verification exchanges. Both parties agreed. They signed.
A new, immutable countdown replaced the crimson threat-timer in his vision.
[System Escrow Active: Glyth Coordinate Verification.]
[Estimated Processing Time: 48 hours.]
For forty-eight hours, Earth-Prime was safe under a System-enforced truce. And after that, if the coordinates were valid, the threat would be permanently lifted.
The pressure valve released. The immediate, crushing weight was gone. But in its place came a new, sobering clarity. He had survived by the skin of his teeth, using borrowed knowledge and desperate bluff. He had no real power. Only information and leverage. And leverage could be spent.
He needed his own power. Not just coins. Not just gadgets. A foundation that could not be threatened.
He turned to the earthly empire. The MANO Pressure Cooker had its first hundred orders. The "MANO Amrit" water filter prototype was ready. He needed to scale. He needed a public face, a fortress of legitimacy so strong that not even a stray thought from the Indian police could shake it.
He thought of Shanti Sharma, of her comment about her father's slow-moving industrial ship. He needed that ship. Or at least, its flag.
He invited her for a meeting, not at a café, but at the newly cleaned mill office. He showed her the production lines being set up, the blueprints for the water filter.
"This is impressive, Rajendra," she said, her professional mask in place, but her eyes alight with genuine interest. "You've built this from nothing in weeks."
"It's a start," he said. "But it's fragile. To become unshakeable, it needs alliances. Strong ones."
She understood. "You're talking about my father's company."
"I'm talking about a partnership. Sharma Industrials distributes nationally. MANO has innovative products. A joint venture. Your father gets a cut of the future. I get his network and his name."
She was silent for a long moment. "My father does not partner with startups. He acquires them."
"Then he hasn't met a startup like this one," Rajendra said, his voice quiet but absolute. "I am not for sale. But I am open to an alliance. Would you be willing to… introduce the possibility?"
He was asking her to be his ambassador, to risk her credibility within her own family. She searched his face, looking for the desperation of a man seeking a lifeline. She found only the calm certainty of a man offering a deal.
"I will speak to him," she said finally. "No promises."
It was all he could ask for.
As she left, a new notification pinged, not from the System, but from his makeshift MAKA communications—a code from Ganesh. Urgent. Godown.
He went immediately. The secondary godown was a nondescript warehouse in Kurla. Inside, Ganesh and Vikram stood over an open crate. It wasn't electronics. It was weapons. Five sleek, deadly AK-47 rifles, still packed in grease.
"Where did these come from?" Rajendra's voice was dangerously soft.
"A new contact," Ganesh said, sweating. "Said it was a 'diversification offer.' From… from Nair's old network. They say the electronics business is good, but the real money is in this. That we have the 'divine transport,' we should use it for the highest value goods."
Nair was gone, but his ecosystem remained, and it had just evolved to absorb MAKA. They saw the red smoke not as a blessing, but as the ultimate smuggling tool. And they were right.
Rajendra stared at the guns, symbols of a path that led only to blood and ruin. This was the crossroads. MAKA could become a true, dark empire. Or it could remain a tool, pure and focused.
"Burn them," he said.
"Bhai?"
"Melt them down. Tonight. We are merchants," Rajendra said, his voice cutting through the gloom of the warehouse. "We trade in life—spices, water, stories. Not death. Anyone who suggests otherwise is no longer part of MAKA. Make that clear."
It was a line drawn in steel. Ganesh nodded, relief and resolve on his face.
Back home, exhausted, Rajendra checked the escrow countdown. 47 hours remaining.
He had bought time. He was building a legitimate fortress with MANO. He had kept MAKA's soul clean.
He was preparing for a future where Vex was no longer a threat.
He was feeling, for the first time, a semblance of control.
Then, a new System message arrived. It was from the Mad Scientist. The subject line was a single word:
Mad Scientist: Breach.