59 – EpilogueGrover Sparling sat at his desk, his gaze focused out the enormous diamond-glass window overlooking the pit—a terraced wound in the Martian surface, its spiraling roads crawling with haulers no bigger than ants at that distance. It was the result of his company’s decades-long labor. Of course, it hadn’t always been his company, but the lion’s share of that digging had been done under his watch. It was a genuine marvel, and the view was breathtaking. Well, not anymore, not to him, but that was what people were meant to say, wasn’t it?Still, he was tired of the mine. He’d carved his life out of it—alliances, leverage, buried enemies—and now it felt like a cage that had grown too small to contain him. It was almost time to make his move. “Almost…” he whispered.Iris cleared her throat—a nervous tick? He shifted his gaze from the window to his daughter, sitting before his desk, hands clasped in her lap. She looked like a teen, but he knew better. Could he blame her? Hadn’t he done the same thing, too many times to count? Didn’t he look like a hearty middle-aged man, while in reality, his foundation was already planning a gala for his hundred-and-fiftieth birthday? He shifted his gaze away from her polite smile to the man sitting beside her: Roy Janus.Something about Roy’s perfect mustache always irritated Grover. He spends too much time on his looks, that one does. He’s actually worse as he ages. The thought prompted Grover to focus on his corporate mail icon, scroll to his head of HR, and recommend an intervention with Janus—time for him to undergo a rejuvenation treatment. That done, he looked into the man’s eyes and said, “I’m listening.”Janus had been waiting for permission to speak for nearly ten minutes, and he coughed in surprise, licking his lips before saying, “Well, unfortunately, we lost track of our new asset—”“He means the peacekeeper, Father—Logan,” Iris said, (...)