Tom stared right into her eyes and thought out the trigger phrase, I’ll never do this to her.

For one instant, he saw the confusion clouding her eyes as Vengerov’s computer virus swarmed into her processor, and Tom had a last, fleeting glimpse of her in that moment of stark and terrible betrayal. Then her avatar dissolved from the simulation along with her, leaving him alone in the emptiness.

TOM SAT RESTLESSLY in the restaurant flipping a quarter from cybernetic finger to finger as Vengerov sipped a glass of wine and replayed the clip of Tom using the virus. Tom had downloaded it with the census device, cutting out everything but those final moments. Then he contacted Vengerov and arranged to hand the evidence over, feeling like a schmuck giving an offering to some pagan deity. Vengerov certainly accepted in that spirit, summoning Tom to one of his many properties, no surprise on his face, like it was his due tribute from some lowly plebian.

When he’d replayed the clip to his satisfaction, he balanced the neural chip between two fingers, assessing Tom over it. “I’m very pleased with you, Mr. Raines. Just when I began to suspect I’d have to send someone else to do the job, you came through for me after all. I’ve received reports from the Citadel confirming your story. I’m glad to see with my own eyes that it’s true. Well done.”

There was nothing vindictive in his tone. He wasn’t holding a grudge against Tom for making him wait. Nothing like that. Just satisfaction that he’d finally coerced Tom into doing as he ordered.

Tom remembered his brief dip into Vengerov’s mind, the way Vengerov felt no fear at the intrusion, no anxiety. That would be the natural, human reaction and Vengerov didn’t have it. He’d felt anticipation, a sense of challenge, a desire to have, to control, to possess, and Tom found himself wondering whether it was Vengerov’s personal neural processor that rendered him so inhuman, or if he’d been born that way.

“Tell me,” Vengerov said silkily, “after all this time, what is it that changed your mind?”

“I guess you could say, I learned my lesson,” Tom said simply.

Vengerov smiled, satisfaction in his angular face. He obviously believed Tom was referring to the day he’d almost killed him: when he’d tried to show Tom that he was powerless, that he could be destroyed with a whim.

But Tom was really thinking of Elliot and Capitol Summit. Only Elliot could have spoken those words to hundreds of millions of people. Only Elliot could have gotten away with such open defiance, because no one had ever seen it coming from him. Only the guy who’d cooperated and compromised for so long could have pulled off that attack on the Coalition in front of the entire world. Elliot had taught Tom something, too.