The man turned. Too slow. I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the chair. One hand held him still. The other hovered the blade just beneath his jaw. The speaker glowed behind us, the hum rising like it recognized me.
“You heard her,” I said.
The man stammered.
“Please—I just ran the tech, I didn’t?—”
I pressed the blade tighter.
“Don’t lie.”
“I didn’t know who she was?—”
“You knew she was alive.”
“I—I was ordered?—”
“She hummed,” I said.
“Because you didn’t let her scream.”
Then I pressed the blade in. Just enough to draw breath. Just enough to cut memory.
He broke.
“There’s a second signal,” he gasped.
I froze.
“Where?”
“Storage hub near the docks. Devane Holdings.”
I pulled the blade away. Walked to the console. Brought up the signal. It matched. Pinged clean.
I turned to him.
“You were the last person to hear her hum.”
His eyes went wide.
“No—please?—”
My voice was steady.
“I want you to hear it one more time.”
I pressed the speaker against his chest. Turned the volume up. Let the hum rise like smoke.
“You turned her hum into currency,” I said. “Let’s see how much you’re worth when it’s your blood on the signal.”
Then I drove the knife into his thigh. He shrieked. I didn’t stop. I sliced through the abdomen—deliberate. Watched him twist. Watched the meat split. Then lower. A tendon behind the knee. Heard thepop.
“You want to beg?” I asked. “Use your spine.”
I tore the speaker cord from the console. Wrapped it around his neck. Tight. I carved a line just above his collarbone. Where Cloe wore hers.
“Now you know what it means,” I said.
