“I wish I knew. My only recollection after leaving Barath is of the data streams—” He stopped, baffled as to how to explain the difference, before and after. And as he analyzed his recollections, he realized—

That it wasn’t like he’d hacked the station. No, that word applied to his situation now. Back then…

“That’s not accurate,” he corrected. “It’s more like, I was Gravas Station.”

Qalu stilled. “You…replaced the station AI?”

“I don’t know. I think so.”

“But you’ve no idea why.”

So frustrating, but that information wouldn’t come. Only the glowing satisfaction of a seemingly infinite consciousness with countless peripherals at his command, making a hundred thousand decisions all at once. He could remember the rush of it, that delicious sense of absolute mastery.

Helix feared the answer. What if…

What if there were no reason? What if he’d done it simply because he wanted to, because he could. That would mean that organics were right to fear the caprices of an untethered AI, that the hunters should destroy him before he became something truly terrible, unfettered by kindness or conscience.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?” She honestly didn’t seem to know.

“Because I’ve ruined your life and perhaps one day you’ll regret—”

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“I won’t either.”

“Let me finish, or regret anything?”

“Both. I will never regret saving you or coming away with you. You haven’t ruined my life, only changed it. And maybe it needed a jolt. I’m not the sort to seek adventure, so it’s come looking for me instead.”

“Put me down,” Aevi demanded suddenly.

She had been napping in one of the packs, but she scrambled out and ran down Helix’s side like he existed for her convenience—the magic of Pherzuls.

Aevi sniffed around and then dashed away down the corridor. Qalu would probably have chased her, but just then the shuttle jolted and Helix steadied her automatically, dropping everything they owned with a thud to choose her instead. There was, perhaps, a buried truth in that instinctive reaction, but he didn’t delve after it. Helix was wary of his own mind now, of what he might find concealed like a weapon.

Wearily she leaned against him a little and he took an absurd amount of pleasure in that. This beauty wasn’t something that could have been described to him in his prior incarnation. Before, he hadn’t understood Zylar’s obsession with Beryl at all, but if his friend felt even a fraction of this when he touched his Intended, well, he required no explanation any longer.

“Do you suppose Aevi’s all right? She’s never been on a ship before.”

He suspected the little one would cause trouble, but nothing too dire. “She’s fine.”

“I hope so.”

“I don’t understand,” he said softly.

“What?”