Twenty-four vials of Fist Essence lay in my locker like dead weight. Twenty-two, if I counted on Omar — and he didn’t seem like someone who’d go back on his word.I could trade the rest for something useful.I thought of Hakim.A cocky conspiracy theorist from second period. He claimed he could get hold of anything that could be gotten. Ha! Should I ask him about a qi crystal?I wasn’t sure how much of it was true, but he gave the impression of someone who definitely knew something. And definitely had connections.The only issue was that the outcome might be... unexpected. Like that time he brought me a cadet with drugs instead of the guy with tea.Trust him? Hand over Essence that could raise some eyebrows?No. Hakim wasn't the right channel.The issue wasn’t willingness — it was trust. Even among my closer acquaintances, everyone had their own agenda, and among the lesser-known ones, that agenda tended to be the top priority. So that wasn’t as much of a problem as the fact that bloody Marek had tried to off himself after that botched setup! Everyone had nearly forgotten about it by now, and I had no intention of reminding them.Still, the idea refused to leave me alone. Eventually, it mutated into something acceptable.I opened my mail on autopilot and typed out a short message to Adam.Outgoing message: A. I. VeyronSubject: Personal meetingContent: Got a minute to talk? Nothing urgent, but better face to face.Adam had contacts. Not quite like Hakim’s, but he had been the one to sell my technique to someone from the Yellow Pine School.Sent. And almost immediately, I got an incoming call.“You into something Kate can’t handle and Novak shouldn’t know about?” Adam asked without a greeting.There was no surprise in his voice — more like anticipation."Not yet," I replied. "But I could be. (...)