“Unblocked?” Jay whispered to the empty security hub. “By who?”
“Blocks don’t expire. They’re permanent.”
She wasn’t a monster. She was a slight woman in a grey jumpsuit, sitting cross-legged on the floor, her dark hair floating in the zero-G draft. Her eyes were closed. A single tear traced a silver line down her cheek. 41 unblocked
“I didn’t have a choice, 41.” His hand hovered over the panic button on his belt—the one that would flood the cell with neural neutralizer. “Who unblocked you?”
“That was a lie.” Her honey eyes glistened. “I’ve never hurt anyone. I just wanted to stop hurting. And you… you needed to stop running.” “Unblocked
“Because you’d have destroyed the fleet!” Jay’s voice cracked. “You said if I didn’t help you disappear, you’d broadcast every admiral’s secret to the entire galaxy.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He ran.
“I could have told the court,” she continued, stepping closer. “But I offered you a deal. Three years of my silence, locked away in my own mind, if you’d build this prison for me. A place where no one else could hear my thoughts. You agreed.”