Never had the plain metal door before him seemed so imposing. Irric stood paralyzed with indecision outside the Commander’s quarters, contemplating whether he truly wanted to go through with coming clean to Cyrix.

  There would be no turning back once he did.

  He broke out in a cold sweat, envisioning the ramifications of what he was about to discuss with one of the heads of his military. Hesitantly, he raised his arm and stopped short before knocking. With a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles on the cold metal.

  The door opened and Irric entered, finding the Commander seated at his desk staring at him expectantly. He’d already informed Cyrix ahead of time that he had something private to discuss with him and now was the moment of truth.

  The uncomfortable silence stretched as Irric searched for the right words to properly tell his boss that his entire life was a lie. His heart thundered in his chest as he forced himself to speak first. “Commander,” he started, “there’s something important we need to discuss. It has to do with my findings during my research.”

  Cyrix stared down at his subordinate, his expression unreadable. Prior to their meeting, he’d been informed by Nessah of the Tribunal’s decision regarding the news about the Mandate and was not in the mood for games. “Continue,” he ordered. He took in Irric’s pallid expression, noting that he looked rather ill.

  “I’ve discovered what the Mandate is,” Irric forced out, bracing for the worst. “I’ve actually known for a little while now.”

  “Why did you wait so long to tell me what you’ve learned?” Cyrix asked, his tone dangerous.

  “How,” Irric said flatly, “are you supposed to tell someone everything they’ve ever known is a lie and that you have proof?”

  Cyrix winced. “A week, apparently,” he muttered, thinking back to how long it took him to tell Nessah. The Commander drew up to his full height, his gaze boring down on his soldier. “If it weren’t for the fact that I knew what you were trying to hide, this conversation would have gone very differently. In your stead, I’ve informed Nessah of your conversation with the gru’ul prisoner. High Command knows exactly what you spoke about, down to the letter.”

  Irric was stunned silent, trying to comprehend how High Command could possibly be aware of the contents of his discussion. “That wasn’t a blackout conversation, was it?” he asked. He shook his head. “Of course not, I should have known better.”

  “Since nothing was technically hidden from the Tribunal, they were lenient on you,” Cyrix replied. “You should be thankful Nessah was able to convince them of that.”

  Irric’s heartbeat sped up. “What’s my punishment?” he asked fearfully. The Tribunal was not to be crossed. Ever. That was how people disappeared. There was never any proof, of course. Which was what terrified him.

  “Nothing,” Cyrix said simply.

  “What!?” Irric sputtered in disbelief. “How is that even possible? I kept what has to be the discovery of a lifetime from them!”

  “Given just what that discovery was, they couldn’t fault your hesitancy to disclose it. As the researcher at the heart of this mystery, you’re the one in the best position to determine the veracity of the gru’ul’s words.”

  “What did they decide?” Irric asked, his breath hitched. Dread crept up on him as he awaited the absolute decision of the Tribunal.

  “We’re at war,” War Commander Cyrix stated, his voice heavy as his new rank settled on him, weighing him down with its duties and responsibilities. “The War Tribunal has officially risen to power. Victory at all costs.”

  “Victory at all costs,” Irric returned in a daze. Only during the Great Wars had the War Tribunal been formed at the moment when their faction’s existential survival had been at risk. A power of absolutes, the faction their will and their word the law. “By the gods,” he whispered, blanching as the stark realization hit him.

  It was all his fault.

  A day and an hour. Not a moment more. Kaius sighed heavily from behind his desk in his personal office. The running clock on what to do with Ava was just about up and he had yet to come to a decision regarding her sentience.

  The hours following his declaration had been utter pandemonium. So much so that he’d been forced to dismiss the rest of the War Tribunal so they could come to grips with their new reality. A fight for their species’ fundamental survival was on the line and it would be their decisions that would determine whether any a’vaare emerged from the conflict at all.

  The thought sobered him.

  During the war the Elders would be beyond reproach, beyond the law. The weight of their new rank was tangible and terribly heavy. Lives would be thrown away by the millions to ensure their victory and Kaius could only pray that they would be ready for when it came time to fight.

  He paused his train of thought, reminding himself that the gods didn’t truly exist. He refused to pay homage to the monstrosities that had committed such atrocious acts. The very ones poised to wipe them all out, or worse, use the heinous chemicals they’d developed against the populace at large.

  He shuddered involuntarily at the thought. It was vital, now more than ever, that his research into neutralizing them bore fruit. While he refused to be party to their weaponization, he had to be prepared for the inevitability that they would be used against the a’vaare. Or anyone, for that matter. For anyone with even a shred of empathy, Reya and Adrian’s videos were among the most sickening thing he could imagine a person witnessing, so horrifying were their screams and evident pain.

  He could only hope the rest of the Elders would be understanding in his plight to keep them safe, even if it went against their wishes.

  The looming war did nothing to solve his issue with Ava, however. He closed his eyes, deep in thought. It was critical that they advance their research in the facility. They needed weapons and any form of technological advancement they could gain from their studies. Loathe as he was to admit, Ava had progressed their research significantly. He knew not where they would be without her help.

  She was vital, even if she didn’t know it.

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  Her boycott against their research was robbing them of time they didn’t have. Time they’d run out of long ago. He needed to ensure her continued cooperation in the matter. For a brief moment, Kaius debated whether to tell her of the war against her creators. Perhaps her fear of death would motivate her to help them, even if she wasn’t declared sentient.

  That gives her entirely too much power over us if she knows she’s irreplaceable, he thought, rejecting his previous idea. I need her to believe that she’s in a position of equals at most. Bargaining with us to advance her objectives would keep her believing we can make do without her while allowing us to use her to advance our own.

  He drummed his fingers on his desk in a slow rhythmic manner as he continued to ponder the situation. At the end of the day, all Ava had asked for was a definitive decision. Should he declare her nothing more than an object, he would be able to use her as one without consideration for her wants. However, there was a risk of her refusing to work with them or even falsifying results should she be unhappy with his decision.

  He grimaced. He needed to ensure they had every advantage in the war. He checked the time once more and came to a decision he felt entirely unqualified to make. He could only hope that it was the correct one.

  The Tribunal convened once more, although this time war wasn’t on the agenda. It was time for the Arbiter’s judgement regarding Ava. The Elders waited patiently for Kaius to arrive to the meeting. His figure winked into existence, his expression serious and devoid of any joviality. He took in the other Elders seated around him. “I have made my decision regarding Ava’s sentience,” he announced, skipping his usual pleasantries. He was in no mood for games. Not when the weight of an entire faction rested upon his shoulders. “It was not an easy one to come to, for it will set a dangerous precedence that I find us wholly unequipped to handle at this time. Hopefully, for all our sakes, we do not run into this situation again anytime soon.” He held each Elder’s gaze briefly before making his decree. “I hereby vote in favour of granting Ava status as a sentient being.”

  “How could you possibly trust that bucket of bolts?” Cirrus fumed. “It blatantly lied to us about the Mandate. I still don’t understand how anybody could come to the conclusion that it’s sentient with such lax measures!”

  “Enough,” Kaius replied sternly, silencing her. “It isn’t about trust, Cirrus. Ava has demonstrated qualities I expect to find in an a’vaare. She has wants and needs — fears as well — and can process emotions. We’ve seen her experience pain and fall unconscious from it. She’s bartered for her life — for the simple chance to keep living. She has displayed biological reactions to situations far beyond her control. When asked if she was alive, she decided she was.”

  “And it glitched when you asked it that question!” Cirrus retorted. Her head whipped around the room as she searched for supporters. “You all saw it. It couldn’t even lie convincingly when answering.”

  Unfortunately for her, the other Elders remained silent on the matter, contemplating the Arbiter’s reasoning for such a monumental decision. Eventually, it was Maraz who broke the silence. “I never thought the day would come that a machine would be declared fully sentient. Yet, if she can convince everybody she interacts with that she’s alive — us included — who are we to deny her this?”

  Cirrus gaped. “That doesn’t mean it’s actually alive, just that it can act and deceive us! Why would you give such a thing rights and freedoms? We don’t even know what it’s capable of!”

  “Then what of us?” Maraz challenged. “What determines whether we are truly alive? At the end of the day, all we’re made from is inanimate matter. What’s the difference?”

  “Everything!” Cirrus exploded. “We don’t even know what it’s made of. It’s our enemy’s creation. The very ones threatening to destroy us. The same ones we’ve decided to wage an unwinnable war against. You would let that thing roam free?” She turned to look at Kaius.

  “No,” Kaius replied. “I’ve declared her to be sentient. What rights our faction affords to machines is a different matter altogether. She is not one of our citizens. We simply acknowledge her right to exist. So long as she represents a potential threat, she will never be afforded the same rights and liberties a normal person would.”

  That seemed to mollify Cirrus somewhat, as she backed down from her tirade. “Fine,” she said tiredly. “We’ve proven ourselves to make bad, hasty decisions before. What’s one more at this point? I’d pray to the gods that it turns out well, but we all know them to be a lie. I sincerely hope we don’t come to regret this in the future.”

  Kaius opted not to comment on her jab at their recent decisions, knowing full well nothing productive would come of rebuking her further. That she seemed pacified into accepting his decision was a win as far as he was concerned. “I’ve arranged for Officer Elydis to open a communications channel with Ava so that we may inform her of our decision. He’s on standby,” he said.

  Cirrus narrowed her eyes. “You would really trust him further with the matter? What if he hides his findings from us again?”

  “I find myself in agreement with Cirrus,” Darros said. “We have a replacement for him, do we not? The other soldier aiding him with his research has the competencies to carry out his work in his stead. Perhaps we should have her be the primary researcher at the facility instead.”

  “She also kept findings from us, remember?” Maraz pointed out. “We could have used Adrian’s knowledge on plants earlier to help us come to an informed decision about his claims.”

  Cirrus looked like she had something to say but wisely held her tongue.

  Darros waved off Maraz’s concerns. “Forgetting to report information on plants, amidst all her other findings, hardly seems like the problem you’re making this out to be. Besides, she told us everything she knew about the topic and readily surrendered her notes when she realized she’d forgotten to tell us.”

  “And having our Officer keep his discovery of the Mandate from us is worse?” Maraz challenged. “Why would we replace our core researcher at such a vital moment with somebody who’s equally withheld vital information from us?”

  “So we should ignore the fact that our Officer waited a week to disclose what is arguably the most critical discovery of this entire operation?” Darros asked pointedly.

  “I don’t think,” Orryn interjected smoothly, “that we can fault our Officer for not knowing how to properly disclose his findings about the Mandate when all he had to work off of was a blackout conversation. At the time, he didn’t have tangible proof — only a conversation he didn’t even know was recorded. Besides, our other researcher is stationed on Verilia, guarding Adrian.”

  Darros clicked his tongue in annoyance. “If she’s spending all of her time doing research, she’s hardly contributing to guard duty.”

  “She also happens to be the ship’s primary pilot,” Orryn pointed out.

  “The rest of the team can pilot the ship. They have the training,” Darros said.

  “Perhaps, but none of them could do it better than her,” Orryn replied. “Breaking up their team during such a critical mission is a terrible idea. We should keep things the way they are for now and monitor the situation. Should our Officer prove untrustworthy, then we’ll consider replacing him.”

  “Fine,” Darros said, scowling. He turned his attention to Kaius. “Call up the android so we can get her back to work. We can’t afford to waste anymore time.”

  Kaius entered a command into his data slate and called up a direct line through Irric. An image of Ava sitting on her bed appeared in the center of the room for all to see. She did not look happy. “Ava,” his voice rang out, catching her attention. Her head perked in anticipation. “Thank you for agreeing to the delay regarding our decision.”

  “You’re late,” Ava said sharply. “I expected you to be on time.” She crossed her arms, glaring at the wall in front of her. Without any obvious source of Kaius’ voice, she knew not where to focus her attention. “I trust that this time you’ve actually got a decision to announce?” Her tone held a dangerous edge.

  “My apologies,” Kaius said, placating her. “We were held up during an important discussion regarding another matter. I have come to a decision regarding your sentience, which has officially been adopted by our Tribunal.”

  “Well?” Ava demanded. “I’ve already waited long enough. Out with it.”

  “We officially declare you, Ava, to be a sentient being,” Kaius formally announced. “We accept your self-declaration of being alive, for you have presented us with sufficient proof as to your claim.”

  A smile broke out on Ava’s face. She did it! She’d won the right to have fundamental rights. No longer could the Tribunal treat her as an object to be used and discarded. With this, she would have bargaining power. She knew not how much, but some was still better than none at all. Her eyes glinted maliciously in the light. “Now then, let’s talk compensation,” she said.