"And what position is that?"
"He wants me to surrender the asset and report for re-evaluation."
Abernathy is quiet for a moment. Then he leans back, folds his hands.
"I'm going to tell you something that doesn't leave this room," he says. "Webb has been building a case against you for three days. He believes your conditioning is failing. He believes you've developed emotional attachments that compromise your operational effectiveness."
"And what do you believe?"
"I believe you're the best Reaper I've ever seen. I believe your kill record speaks for itself. I believe your value to this Ministry far exceeds the cost of one damaged asset." He pauses. "But I also believe that something has changed in you. And I need to know what that is before I decide how to proceed."
"Nothing has changed."
"Then why the asset? Why the deviation?"
I consider the question. Weigh my options. Calculate the most effective response.
And then I do something I've never done before.
I tell the truth.
"Because I looked at him and felt something I don't have a name for," I say. "Because the idea of him being hurt makes me want to kill things. Because when I'm in the same room as him, my patterns change, my protocols shift, my calculations factor in variables they never factored in before." I meet Abernathy's eyes. "I don't know what that is. But I know I can't stop it. And I know that if Webb takes me apart to find out, he won't like what he discovers."
The silence stretches. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.
Then Abernathy does something unexpected.
He laughs.
"You know what that sounds like, Harrison?" He shakes his head, still chuckling. "That sounds like the beginning of something very dangerous. Or very useful." He leans forward. "Give me the intelligence on Moore. Give me something I can use. And I'll keep Webb off your back long enough for you to figure out what the hell is happening to you."
"And if I can't produce the intelligence?"
"Then I can't help you. And Webb gets what he wants." He stands, extends his hand. "You have six days left. Do you have anything new to report?”
“Not yet.”
“See to it that the next time we meet… you do. For what it's worth," Abernathy says, "I hope you figure it out. Whatever it is. Because if you don't, Webb will take you apart piece by piece. And I'd hate to lose my best Reaper over something as inconvenient as feelings."
I leave without responding.
But his words stay with me all the way home.
Feelings.
Is that what this is?
I don't know. I don't have the answer.
But I'm starting to think I need to find out.
The apartment is quiet when I return.
Elliot is on the couch, reading one of my books. He looks up when I enter, and something in his expression shifts. Softens.
"We need to get into your brain. Now.”
His facefalls. “But… but.”
