The comm was quiet for fourteen seconds. “But how did it die?” Amena asked in a small voice.

(Oh wait, now I know why I hadn’t wanted to talk about this.)

ART interposed, SecUnits have a distance limit, imposed by the contract owner. It’s variable, but if this SecUnit’s clients were taken away in the explorer, or sent to the planet, it would have been in violation, with no way to remedy the situation. Its governor module killed it.

“Oh. Oh, no,” Ratthi muttered. “I knew that happened, but…”

Thiago shook his head. “So it was ordered to do nothing, and then just left here to…”

“How is that rational?” Arada burst out, forgetting she was technically in charge and supposed to be all sensible and restrained. “To have a killswitch on the one person who might be able to rescue you if you’re taken prisoner—”

“It’s a function of the governor module itself,” I explained. “The HubSystem or designated supervisor could override, but they weren’t here.”

“What about the—” Thiago made a gesture back toward the dead humans.

“Dead clients don’t count. Otherwise you could just kill one and carry them around with you.” Okay, for real, that wouldn’t work. The governor module wasn’t nearly as sophisticated as a HubSystem but even it could have figured that one out.

And of course the humans had trouble understanding that your governor module suddenly deciding to melt your brain wasn’t something you could rules-lawyer your way out of.

I was tired of explaining and I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You know, I hadn’t hacked my governor module to become a rogue SecUnit for no reason. I collected the projectile weapon and the spare ammunition, said, “We need to keep moving,” and went on through the access.

I pretended not to hear Ratthi on the comm telling the others to drop the subject.

We went through another foyer and then an open hatch into a globe-shaped control area. It was clearly meant to be operated mostly via the feed, by humans and augmented humans who were coming in to deliver a cargo to the planet and then leave, probably as rapidly as possible. There were no chairs, just station consoles built into the walls with dormant displays for monitoring the various cargo module locks and for the dock’s internal systems. The gravity was adjusted so you could walk up the curving wall.

Before I could, Overse caught up with me and asked, “Are you all right?”

I was absolutely great. It wasn’t like this situation needed to get any more emotionally fraught, or anything. I said, “I am functioning optimally.” (This was a line from Valorous Defenders, which is a great source for things humans and augmented humans think SecUnits say that SecUnits do not actually say.)

Overse made an exasperated noise. “I hate that show.” I’d forgotten that it was one of the shows I’d pulled off the Preservation Public Entertainment feed. The other humans were listening on the comm so hard I could pick up their breathing. Thiago pretended not to listen, flashing his helmet light over the stations on the upper tier of the control area. Overse added, “Just remember you’re not alone here.”