“What?” Tennal said, opening his eyes. “No.”

Surit sat at the desk and tapped his wristband for a screen. As Tennal watched incredulously, Surit pulled up some sort of tactics study module.

“Putting it off?” Tennal said.

“Until you ask me to,” Surit said, “I have no intention of syncing you.” He tapped a command in too hard, realized it was wrong, and had to redo it. “Excuse me. I have to get this done.”

It looked like the kind of routine study you picked up when you had nothing better to do. Tennal watched him for a few minutes, gradually recognizing the leaden ache that sank through his muscles and prickled in his feet. Usually he made his own horrors, but thanks to the generous resources of the army, he didn’t have to do that here. He was aware of every movement Surit made, every twitch of his hand at the console. Until you ask me to.

Tennal found another reserve of spite under the dread. Surit might want to feel better about syncing him, but Tennal had no reason to play along.

When he turned to his wristband, Tennal wasn’t surprised to find they’d already cut off most of his network access. He could still get to basic systems, army regs, and his schedule—which was blank. He didn’t have access to the room panel, so he couldn’t open the door. No surprise there either. Nothing to do.

So Tennal lay on the bed, his thoughts spiraling into an abyss, and did nothing.

There had always been times when he’d wanted to shut his brain off. And there’d always been times when he’d been unable to do anything about it, lying there with a blank ceiling and a head full of live wires, no pills, no one else awake, nowhere to take his particular brand of rich-kid bullshit. Each time he’d catch himself thinking, This is the worst point of my life, then he’d realize he’d tipped into melodrama and make fun of himself for playing the same self-pitying tune again. He could do that in an army cabin just as easily as in a cheap Sanura hotel.

Surit pushed his chair back after about an hour. Tennal’s eyes flicked open, which was futile; Surit didn’t have to move to sync him. Listening wouldn’t give Tennal any warning.

Surit cleared his throat. “I’m going to the canteen,” he said. “You can accompany me if you abide by the rules the commander set.”

“No,” Tennal said. He was aware of his diminishing supply of refusals, dwindling to the uncertain point when Surit decided Tennal wasn’t going to consent to sync and went ahead anyway. He might as well use them all.

Surit nodded as if unsurprised. “You’re on the basic rations list. I’ll bring you a pack.”

“So kind,” Tennal said to the ceiling. “I’ll have the lobster.”