Thiago had his mouth open but I was still talking. “There was, and is, still a potential danger from individual dependents or employees of GrayCris but threat assessment determined that the percentage is low enough for Dr. Mensah to resume normal activities with the assistance of Preservation Station Security.”

It took Thiago fourteen seconds to digest that. “There was an attack? Why didn’t she tell us— It would have been in the newsstream—”

I pulled the video from my archive and quickly edited in the views from the Station Security helmet cams and the one lousy security cam in the lobby of the council offices on station. ART studied it curiously. I sent it to autoplay in Thiago’s feed.

His gaze went distant, then startled, then increasingly appalled.

ART watched the full video, running it back and forth. I had sent Thiago the part where I was on top of the council table trying to snap Hostile One’s neck while Hostile Two was on my back stabbing the absolute crap out of me. Six Station Security officers were draped around the room in various states of consciousness, with Officer Tifany, the only one still functional, hanging on to the stabbing arm of Hostile Two and punching him repeatedly in the head. ART commented, What is that human stabbing you with?

Part of a broken chair.

“They’re SecUnits?” Thiago asked, horrified.

I can see why he might think that. I said, “They’re augmented humans who were chemically enhanced. They don’t feel pain, their reflexes and reaction times are accelerated. They have the physical strength of a SecUnit, but not the feed connectivity or processing capacity. So they’re harder to detect, and even more disposable.” To be fair, at this point GrayCris probably couldn’t get any other security companies licensed to produce and/or deploy SecUnits to contract with them. Between the high-risk assessment and the lack of operating funds and the cheating/attacking contract partners, GrayCris wasn’t a good client.

Thiago took a breath, made himself calm down. “But they won’t send anyone else? You said the threat percentage dropped—”

“It’s at an acceptable level.” And it hadn’t been easy to get it to that level, either.

Thiago watched me with a concentrated intensity I didn’t like. ART’s camera didn’t have a full-face view, but it was obvious even with the angle. “Then why did she decide not to take a second term?”

“She didn’t quit because she was afraid, you asshole, she quit because she needs to start the trauma support treatment at Central Medical. She didn’t tell anyone in her extended family because being taken hostage—”

In our private connection, ART said, Stop.

ART has different ways of telling you to stop doing what you’re doing, with different threat levels, and this was toward the top of the list.

I stopped. ART explained, You’re violating her privacy.

I was pissed off, because of course ART was right. I said, What do you know about it?

My MedSystem is certified in emotional support and trauma recovery.