PART 13:

If someone wanted to steal from you, they could, easily. Lena felt sick. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I was going to. I’ve been building up documentation, making sure I had proof before I stuck my neck out again. You know what happened last time I reported security concerns? I lost everything. So forgive me for being cautious.

His voice hardened. And then you followed me and accused me of espionage, which really didn’t make me eager to trust you with this information. But you’re telling me now. Because you’re going to find out anyway. Your security director already suspects me of something. Better you hear the truth from me than make up your own story about what you think I was doing.

Noah crossed his arms. So go ahead. Fire me, sue me, whatever you need to do. But fix the security holes first, because if you don’t, someone else will find them, and they won’t be documenting them for your benefit. Lena looked at the photos again, understanding slowly crystallizing. Noah had risked his job, his safety, potentially his freedom, to protect a company that had already shown him what happened to whistleblowers.

He’d done it quietly, methodically, building an ironclad case before saying anything, because he’d learned from past mistakes that good intentions meant nothing without proof. You’re not fired, she said. You’re promoted. Noah blinked. What? I’m creating a new position, chief security architect.

You’ll lead a full audit of our systems, implement fixes for every vulnerability you found, and build a security culture in this company that actually means something. Lena’s mind was already racing ahead, seeing possibilities. We’ll work around your Cyberdyne restrictions, consulting role, not direct coding.

You’ll guide a team of engineers who do the implementation. You can’t be serious. I’m completely serious. Noah, you just saved our flagship product. And now you’re telling me you’ve been protecting our company for months without anyone asking you to. You’re exactly the kind of person who should be in a leadership role. I’m a janitor with a blacklisted past and legal restrictions that make me unemployable in this industry, Noah said flatly.

Your board will never approve this. Your investors will think you’ve lost your mind. And your employees will revolt at the idea of reporting to someone who used to clean their toilets. Then they can find new jobs, Lena said. I’m not asking for permission, Noah. I’m telling you what’s going to happen. You can accept the position or decline it, but either way, you’re not cleaning offices anymore.

You’ve proven your worth far more than that. I don’t want your charity. This isn’t charity. This is me recognizing talent and refusing to waste it. Lena met his eyes. You told me yesterday that people like me closed ranks instead of standing up for you. You were right, but I’m trying to be different.

I’m trying to be the person who actually does the right thing instead of just talking about it. So let me do this. Let me prove that not everyone in this industry is the same. Noah studied her face, searching for something. Sincerity, maybe, or hidden motives. Whatever he saw must have been enough, because his rigid posture softened slightly.

There’s something you should know, he said quietly. The security vulnerabilities I found, some of them are being actively exploited. I found evidence of unauthorized access in your financial systems 3 weeks ago. Someone’s been siphoning small amounts of money. Nothing dramatic enough to trigger alerts, but consistent.

I haven’t been able to trace who, but it’s happening. The revelation hit Lena like a physical blow. Corporate theft on top of everything else. How much are we talking about? Maybe 50,000 over the past 6 months. Small transfers disguised as routine operational expenses. Whoever’s doing this knows the system well enough to hide in the noise.

It could be anyone. Employee, contractor, someone external who gained access. I have a suspect, Noah said, but I need to verify before I make accusations. Give me 3 days and full access to your financial systems, and I’ll give you a name. Lena should have been angry. At the theft. At the vulnerability. At how long this had apparently been going on without detection.

Instead, she felt something almost like relief. Noah had been protecting them all along, even when he had every reason not to, even when they’d given him nothing but minimum wage and suspicion in return. “You have full access,” she said. “What- Whatever you need. But Noah, thank you for caring about this company more than it deserved.

” “I don’t care about the company,” Noah said. “I care about not letting criminals get away with it. There’s a difference.” Before Lena could respond, her phone erupted with calls. Sarah, Thomas, three board members, her head of operations, everyone calling at once with the same message. Genesis had just passed its first successful stress test.

The orbiter integration was working. They might actually make the deadline. The development lab exploded into celebration when Lena returned with the news. Engineers who’d been dead on their feet 30 minutes ago were suddenly energized, high-fiving, laughing with the giddy relief of people who’d been staring at failure and just glimpsed survival.

Thomas actually hugged Sarah, then looked embarrassed and immediately busied himself with his keyboard. Noah stood apart from the celebration, watching with a small, satisfied smile. He’d done this, given them the solution, guided them through implementation, turned certain disaster into probable success. But he wasn’t part of their world, wasn’t included in their victory.

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