There was no doubt in Dimitri's mind who had done it and why.
Dave had done exactly what he'd promised. He'd taken care of the problem, permanently and spectacularly, leaving the body where everyone could see it, so others would get the message.
What message, though?
No one was supposed to know about the threat that Tarik had posed to Mattie or to Dimitri.
Unless the rumor about the attack had spread, and Dimitri hadn't known about it.
What he knew for sure was that the Eight hadn't done it out of anger, because Dave didn't feel anger, and they hadn't done it as vengeance because Dave didn't feel that either. They had done it to safeguard Mattie because, for some reason, they had taken it upon themselves to be her protectors.
It was fascinating, and Dimitri wished he knew more about psychology because this was profound. Dave had achieved a higher level of consciousness by melding all eight minds of his individual parts together. They had transcended, and in their elevated state, they had decided that protecting Mattie was more important than the life of an immortal warrior.
It gave him hope that he hadn't felt in a long time.
In a world that was surrendering its collective will to grand unified algorithms, it was encouraging to see that a grand unified mind would choose to protect the human female against the immortal male.
He should have felt horror and disgust at the brutality of the killing, the mutilated body, but he felt relief and hope instead.
Justice had prevailed, good had triumphed over evil, and the bastard was dead. He would never endanger Mattie again. He would never corner her in a dark hallway, never again make her feel small and helpless and afraid.
Thank you, Dave.
Dimitri had known Dave was dangerous, had understood on an intellectual level that the collective consciousness controlling those eight enhanced bodies was capable of violence, but seeingthe evidence of that violence and knowing it had been deployed in defense of Mattie, he felt nothing but gratitude.
"Clear the area," someone shouted. "Everyone, back off."
Dimitri allowed himself to be pushed back with the rest of the crowd. He needed to tell Mattie that the threat was gone, that she was safe, that Dave had kept his word.
The tools and materials could wait. This was more important.
He pivoted on his heel and headed back to the lab, walking faster than was probably wise, barely restraining himself from breaking into a run.
As he finally reached the lab building, his fingers fumbled with the code, getting it wrong the first time but succeeding on the second try. The lock clicked open, and he pushed through, taking the stairs two at a time.
"Mattie!"
She stood at the top of the stairs, a cleaning rag in her hand, and her expression shifted from confused to alarmed.
"What's wrong?"
"Tarik is dead."
The words hung in the air between them. Mattie's face went pale, then flushed, her emotions cycling through shock and disbelief and eventually settling on hope.
"What? How?"
"They found him this morning. In front of the hotel." Dimitri crossed to her, taking her hands in his. "His heart was rippedout. It had to be Dave. They said they would take care of it, and they did."
Mattie's legs gave way, and she sank down onto the hallway’s carpeted floor, the cleaning rag falling forgotten from her fingers.
"He's dead?"
"Very much so. Missing a heart will do that to an immortal."
"Because of me." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Because I told Dave what he did."
Dimitri lowered himself to sit beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Because Tarik was a monster who hurt you and would have hurt others. Dave did what needed to be done, and by doing so, prevented the suffering of many. I bet that was exactly the calculation the Eight did before killing Tarik. Dave is not impulsive, vindictive, or overly aggressive. Not with the drug regimen that Petrov and I designed for them. Dave acts on pure logic, and they reached the conclusion that the world would be a better place without Tarik."
