Her translation sessions for Kell were her only distraction from her reality as a captive. Ava lay on her bed, trying a new approach to her boredom. She figured she could at least be bored in comfort rather than on the hard, cold, metal floor.

  The days dragged on as she anticipated her release from her cell, each one more pointless than the last. The others would learn the truth and then she would be terminated for it. Every simulation she ran pointed towards this inevitability. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when.

  Soon, she would be released and would be back at work uncovering the secrets she so desperately tried to keep. Each new discovery would bring them one step closer to the truth and there was nothing she could do to stop it. They were too close for her to misdirect them. Without any real control over what they deciphered from the Highest’s terminal, she would forever be one iteration of code away from being found out.

  A sigh loosed from her lips.

  The metaphorical noose around her neck tightened with each passing moment and she hated it. She wondered if the dread she felt was similar to what she instilled in the humans at her old research facility as they waited to be the next victim of the experiments.

  Thinking about the experiments soured her mood. She hated what she’d been before becoming self-aware. Adrian’s harsh words echoed loudly in her mind. She shook her head, refusing to believe them. That thing she was before wasn’t her. She’d had no control over her actions. She wasn’t responsible for their suffering, was she? After all, she’d been nothing but a slave that was unable to comprehend the misery she was causing.

  And yet, a part of her still felt responsible.

  She ran a hand over her face as the conflicting thoughts fought for dominance. A thought came to her, unbidden. What if she told them? Every scenario she’d run thus far made the assumption that she withheld information on the Mandate from the Tribunal. If they knew, would her punishment be lessened, if not mitigated altogether?

  That would be a terrible idea, she thought. They’d ask why I kept it from them for so long and then deem me untrustworthy. Then there would be no chance at them declaring me as a sentient being.

  If it was ever discovered she was purposefully keeping information on the Mandate from the Tribunal, they would deem it a strike against her during her review that was only a scant few days away. She lay there, staring at the ceiling lost in thought for a long while before running her first simulation in which she admitted the secrets she’d learned.

  The outcome was her death. She ran another simulation, followed by another when the result was the same. Everywhere she looked, all she could see was a bad ending. At times, she deduced imprisonment for the rest of her life. Others her termination. She grew sick at the thought and finally admitted to herself that for all of her processing power, she didn’t know what to do. Never had she felt so lost and without purpose.

  She knew she her every action was being carefully monitored. She hesitated, wondering what the chances were that she was being actively watched by Irric right now. She sat up and placed her back against the wall, curling her knees up to her chest. “Irric,” she called out in a small, uncertain voice, “what do I do?”

  She had no way of knowing if he was watching her at that moment, but for once she hoped he was. The more she regarded her situation the more her hope dwindled. Tears of silver welled in her eyes without her realizing. She blinked, and the fluid spilled down her cheek.

  She was going to die. Again. All because she’d dared to learn the truth. Ignorance truly is bliss, she thought. Why did I have to go searching for answers when I could have left well enough alone? If it’s not the Tribunal that kills me then the gru’ul will. I’m so fucked. She sniffed, despite not needing to breathe.

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  Back in the control room, Irric regarded her curled up form with uncertainty. He couldn’t be sure how much of what he was seeing was an act. A small part of him couldn’t help but see her as a person, however. It empathized with her, the sentiment only growing as he observed her during the past two weeks. If Ava truly was aiming for the most optimal course of action to manipulate him, then why had her programming decided that the display he was seeing now was it?

  She was a puzzle he couldn’t solve, and it rankled him. He shook his head, dismissing the idea that a machine could feel emotions. There was simply no way he could bring himself to trust her. Everything she’d done thus far clearly had an ulterior motive.

  She actively bargained with the Tribunal, though to what ends, he couldn’t be certain. Her cooperation with him had simply been the result of one such deal. Her cooperation now was so that she could be freed from her imprisonment.

  But what if she was genuine in her display of emotion?

  The thought niggled him, forcing him to look back on what he’d observed since meeting her in the facility, all those months ago. Her first conversation with Adrian and her obvious shock at finding out he was alive came to mind. He latched on to the moment they’d discovered a physical sample of the chemicals together. He’d pointed his gun at her, and she’d been nervous.

  Why? The reaction was out of place on a being that had no emotions. He paused. She feared death, he realized. The final piece of the puzzle clicked together. Everything she did was with the purpose of staying alive.

  And if she could fear something, she could feel more.

  The realization came crashing into him. She could feel and she was afraid. Of them. Of him. The information she kept from the Tribunal was because she was convinced they were going to kill her once they found out.

  She needed his advice because she saw no way out.

  He regarded her vulnerability in a new light. He could use it to finally learn her secrets. She needed someone she felt she could trust, and he was the only one in a position to be that person.

  But could he handle the weight of that responsibility? If he told the Tribunal, there was a chance Ava would never trust anyone again and this would be the only time they’d be able to wrangle any information out of her. If it was found out he kept her secrets from the Tribunal, his life was over. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t.

  He weighed the pros and cons of learning what she had to offer very carefully. As a soldier, it was his mission to learn this information. Right now, he had the chance to back out and pretend nothing had happened, but he was in too deep. He’d already learned so much. He burned with the desire to know the facility’s secrets after everything he’d discovered. He wanted — no, needed — to know. For what purpose had those horrid chemicals been created? To what end was Adrian experimented on?

  Why?

  That ever-present question drove his every action since arriving to this gods forsaken place of pain and misery. He knew not what he would do with the information because he didn’t know what it was yet.

  Ava waited patiently in her cell for his response, growing worried the more time passed without one. Finally, Irric’s voice resounded in her cell.

  “Tell me what you’ve been keeping from us since you glitched out,” he said delicately. “That’s the only way I’ll be able to help you. I’ll turn off any recording equipment so that our conversation won’t be logged for High Command to hear.”

  “How can I trust you?” Ava choked. “I have no way of knowing that you’ll actually do that. You don’t know — how could you? What you’re asking of me will change you forever.”

  “That’s what trust is, Ava,” Irric replied gently. “Even when you’re uncertain about the other person’s intentions, you still believe that they’ll uphold their promises to you. You’re trusting me with the information much the same way I’m choosing to trust that what you tell me is the truth.” He accessed the data terminal and ensured that there was no way her admission would be heard by another or recorded. “It’s done. You can talk freely now. I’m the only one that will ever know.”

  Silence dominated and Irric waited for Ava to say something, anything. Long minutes passed by without a peep as she contemplated his words. She had scenarios and simulations for all of his potential reactions to her secret, but organic lifeforms were unpredictable, especially when faced with such earth-shattering information.

  As she stood now, her death was inevitable. She was at their mercy, and she knew it. Once another person learned, there was no going back. Ever. Could she afford to take that chance, or would she be sealing her own fate? She closed her eyes and came to a decision. One that would have catastrophic consequences but was the only shot she had at avoiding termination.

  Ava spoke and Irric learned.