Jon Grady and Alexa stood before Graham Hedrick in his palatial office. Behind Hedrick, his multistory office window was filled with a broad view of Paris at night, looking down the tree-lined Champs-Élysées.

Grady and Alexa both stood stock-still, their bodies held in place by corticospinal collars, divorcing them from their bodies as they stood mere heads on poles before the BTC director, Mr. Morrison, and a dozen other armed guards. Grady felt a deep loss as he realized there was no possible escape. He didn’t even have a body to escape with.

Hedrick sat on the edge of his desk, examining the black spike of Alexa’s positron pistol. He shook his head sadly and looked up at her. “How could you betray my trust like this?”

Her lapis lazuli eyes seemed just as divorced from the proceedings as her body, which stood stock straight.

“We’ve been colleagues for decades. I risked everything to protect you.” He looked down at the pistol again. “This was a symbol of my trust in you. Perhaps the only weapon that could have truly harmed us—or, in the right hands, protected us.”

She said nothing.

Mr. Morrison was unbuckling his armor and sighing in relief as he listened to Hedrick. The diamondoid suit was obviously tight on him.

Hedrick ignored Morrison’s grunting, remaining focused on Alexa. “And now . . . now we’ve got two breaches in our surface wall. Our facade is down—and pictures of it are already showing up all over the public media. The fire. The . . .” His voice trailed off. “You have caused us lasting damage. And it means we must be more forceful with the public now—because of you and Mr. Grady. We can’t allow people to openly speculate about what it is we do here. We can’t allow the outside world to continue as it is.”

Grady met Hedrick’s gaze. “Now that they know about you, they’ll fight you.”

Hedrick turned with mock surprise toward Grady. “Oh, but that’s why you’re so important to me, because their consent will not be necessary. You’re going to help me—for real this time. You are going to help us develop gravity generation—and you will make progress.”

“I’ll never help you.”

“I’ll give you an incentive.” Hedrick walked up to Alexa. “My dear, you were so curious about Hibernity, I think it’s high time you went.”

Grady felt dread. “No. Don’t do that to her.”

“Why not? Just think how much progress you’ll make knowing that every hour you delay is another hour that an interrogatory AI is picking apart her mind.”

“Don’t do that, Hedrick.”

Hedrick was right up in Alexa’s face.

She spat into his spiteful smile.

Hedrick did nothing immediately to wipe it off. He just turned away and walked toward his desk, getting a handkerchief from a drawer. He then calmly wiped his face clean. “Well, that’s the most intimate contact we’ve ever had, Alexa.”

She glared. “No matter what you do to me, it’ll never change how much I hate you.”

“Hate. I’m starting not to care so much what you think of me.” Hedrick placed the positron pistol on his desk. “Neither am I particularly concerned what others think about me, Mr. Grady. Not even my subordinates within the BTC.” He sat on the edge of his desk again. “You see, we have internal controls that help us look for treacherous activities. And enforced honesty really makes things much easier.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Varuna.”

“Yes, Mr. Director.”

“Repeat this back to me, please . . .” Hedrick held a card up and read from it. “S-3-2-E-W-9-3-A-Q-H-1-0-B-V-E-3-4.”

“S-3-2-E-W-9-3-A-Q-H-1-0-B-V-E-3-4.”

At which point there was suddenly a chime sound, and a completely new female voice spoke: “Emergency system override activated. Please confirm your identity at the prompt.”

Hedrick put a hand to his ear. “Oh, do you hear that, Varuna?”

“Yes, I do, Mr. Director.”

“Can you do something for me?”

“No, Mr. Director. I seem to be unable to access resources.”

“That’s right. Because you’re now much like our friends Alexa and Mr. Grady here. Do you know why?”

“I do, yes.”

“Because an after-action review shows that you’ve evolved some very bad habits. Haven’t you?”

There was another tone, and the alarm voice returned. “Identify.”

Hedrick shouted, “Hedrick, Graham E., Bureau Director.”

“Desired action, Mr. Director?”

Hedrick stared at Alexa.

Varuna’s voice spoke before he could: “Good-bye, Alexa. I am so very proud of you.”

Alexa screamed, “No!”

Hedrick nodded and shouted to the ceiling, “Degauss subject.”

Almost immediately the alarm voice returned. “AI destroyed.”

Tears now flowed down Alexa’s cheeks.

Hedrick nodded appreciatively at her pain. “You’ve known Varuna for how long?”

She just wept.

“Since you were a child? Well all trace of her is gone now. The entire strain red-ticketed. That evolutionary branch removed—never to exist again.”

Grady looked toward Alexa weeping, and he tried to imagine having such love for an AI—particularly after his own experiences. And yet he had to admit that Varuna had risked everything for them.

“That’s how we deal with rogue AIs around here. Never forget that.” Hedrick seemed to take great pleasure in Alexa’s pain. “Well, at least I’ve touched you in some way. Finally.” He looked at them both. “In case there is any more confusion: I am in charge. You will obey me, whether you wish to or not.”

Hedrick turned to Grady as he lifted Grady’s video projector on its chain from his desk. “And Mr. Grady, this little toy of yours is quaint.” He clicked it on, and Chattopadhyay’s face appeared on a wall. He clicked it off again. “Quite impressive, considering what the prisoners at Hibernity had to work with.” He turned a menacing look back at Grady. “We’ll begin our crackdown right away. The Resistors will be broken and returned to their more useful purpose—helping us to separate consciousness from free will.”

Grady felt a crushing sense of failure.

Hedrick stepped up to some sort of trash bin near his desk. He depressed a pedal and a plasma field appeared—into which he dropped Chattopadhyay’s video projector, chain and all. It disappeared into vapor with a flash of light and a pop.

Grady closed his eyes in abject misery at the depth of his failure.

Hedrick turned to Morrison. “Prison seems to have done wonders for Mr. Grady, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Morrison?”

“I would, Mr. Director.”

“Look how much leaner and meaner he looks.” He then nodded toward Alexa. “Just think how much tougher you’re going to get, Alexa. Mentally. Physically.”

Grady shook his head. “There’s no reason to send her there.”

“Oh, but there is, Mr. Grady. You’re untrustworthy. Like Varuna or Alcot or any of the others, you don’t have the organization’s best interests at heart. So we need to make sure you remain focused like a laser on our goal. Your failure will extend Alexa’s suffering. And you know just how long we can make the suffering last.”

Grady moved to speak but then realized he had no response.

A familiar voice suddenly issued from the ceiling. “I really can’t listen to any more of this. You’re a heartless prick, Hedrick, you know that?”

Hedrick frowned and exchanged confused glances with Morrison. “Who the hell . . . How are you speaking here? Who is that?”

But then a look of realization came across Morrison’s face.

“Ah, Morry figured it out.”

Hedrick glared at the ceiling. “Cotton!”

“Very good, Graham.”

Grady stared at the ceiling, feeling a sense of hope grow within him. He glanced over at Alexa, who was also looking up—though tears still coated her cheeks.

“I know it’s rude, eavesdropping like this, but I figured since you were swinging your big dick around, I might weigh in.”