No one asked you to do that, she wanted to add, viciously. I don’t want or need your protection.

Fulbreech spread his hands. “Just trust me,” he said, his blue eyes so earnest they ignited a kind of fury in Park’s heart. “Forget about all this. Go to bed. Everything’s going to be all right. I promise.”

She turned to unlock the door, taking care not to slam it behind her—to not let him see how much he had incensed her. She would not allow him to think his actions had any emotional effect on her whatsoever. “Good night, Fulbreech,” she gritted out.

The door swung shut between them with a distant little click. Park stalked off into the dark, fuming; Fulbreech didn’t follow. Park didn’t know if she was even more annoyed by this or relieved. He spoke to her as if she were a child! And she’d thought that she could still trust him—could still appeal to him for help. But all he had for her were platitudes, meaningless deflections. Go to bed? Forget about this? Who did he think she was? And what did he think their relationship was, that he could give her a proverbial pat on the head and send her on her way without outright insulting her intelligence?

What good are his promises? Park asked herself. Her scalp seemed to crackle with the heat of her anger. She couldn’t rely on him for anything. One moment he was cozying up to her, interrogating her about this and that, inviting her along on secret and forbidden excursions. The next, he was rebuking her for asking too many questions, withdrawing his support, or worse—actively working to deter her from finding out anything for herself. All under the pretense that he was concerned for her wellbeing. No, his promises were no good. She couldn’t trust him, just like she couldn’t trust Sagara or Boone. Actually, Fulbreech was even more dangerous, the most frightening of the three: he concealed his allegiances behind a smile.

Nothing in the utility rooms, hell, she thought as she skulked down the corridor that eventually led to the Deck C ladder. She kept to the shadows, what little there were—but there was no one, human or android, who had been stationed to get in her way. She still couldn’t believe that he would lie to her, so bald-faced. What exactly did he think she needed protection from? Did he think her that fragile, that she couldn’t stomach whatever ugly truth was down there?