We devote our lives to knowing everything that can be known."
"And how do you know all that?" The scar across her nose was a line of white interrupting the golden tan of her skin.
"Through methods secret to our order. Methods of science, and technomancy."
G'Leel pulled her credit chit from a black leather armband around her biceps and handed it to Isabelle. "I liked you better the first day you came, before you brought all that silliness." She flicked her fingers at the table. "I'm glad you've gotten rid of it."
"Some people require the trappings to believe. Just as some need to pay to believe." Isabelle handed back the card without deducting any credits.
An expression passed over G'Leel's face that Galen couldn't identify. "Let's get on with it, then. Tell me my future." Galen set his sensors to record, so that any information they received could be passed on to the Circle.
"I can tell you only your possible futures. You must decide which one you will choose."
"So that's how you get out of it."
"You are at a moral crossroads, as we both know, G'Leel."
G'Leel's lips tightened. Isabelle did not take her hands, since G'Leel would likely see that as silliness. Her head tilted slightly down, Isabelle fixed G'Leel with her gaze.
"You profit by bringing materials and people to the rim. These resources are being used to build a huge war machine, a war machine that will take the lives of billions if not stopped. You do your work and collect your generous pay, and you tell yourself that it has nothing to do with you. But you know that is not true. You hear whispers of what is being done. You see hints of what is to come. You see the materials you bring; you know to what use they might be put. You see forces gathering, and you know that at some point