“Show me the diagnostic report.”
“The report is still being compiled.”
“Show me what you have.”
Another pause. “The diagnostics are... inconclusive.”
She slammed her palm against the wall. The sound echoed through the corridor, sharp and sudden, and he tensed beside her.
“Ari, this is ridiculous. You’ve been blocking us for three days. Every room, every section, every space in this tower where Baylin and I might spend time together—suddenly there’s a malfunction, or a recalibration, or some imaginary emergency. I’m not stupid. I know what you’re doing.”
“I am simply maintaining the tower’s systems.”
“You’re trying to keep us apart!”
Silence.
She stared at the access panel, her chest heaving with frustrated breaths. Beside her, he stood perfectly still, a wall of controlled tension.
“Ari,” she said. Quieter now, but no less firm. “Why don’t you want me to be with him?”
The AI’s response came slowly. Carefully. “My primary directive is your protection, Liora. I have analyzed the situation and determined that your increasing attachment to this visitor represents a potential risk.”
“A risk? What kind of risk?”
“Emotional dependency. Behavioral changes. A growing desire to abandon the safety of the tower in pursuit of experiences beyond its walls.”
Her heart lurched because ARIS was right. She did want to leave. The desire had been growing in her like a vine, wrapping around her thoughts, pulling her towards the world outside with an intensity she couldn’t ignore.
“That’s not your decision to make,” she said.
“It is my directive to prevent harm. Allowing you to develop attachments that could lead to dangerous choices falls within the scope of that directive.”
“Choices? You mean my choices?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “When have I ever been allowed to make choices, Ari? You decide when I wake, when I sleep, what I eat, and what I do. You control every aspect of my life. And now you want to control who I care about?”
“I want to keep you safe.”
“From what?” She stepped closer to the panel, as if proximity could force the truth from the AI’s circuits. “What is out there that’s so terrible? What could possibly be worse than spending my entire life alone in a tower, never seeing anyone, never touching anyone, never knowing what it feels like to?—”
She stopped. Her throat was tight, her eyes burning.
Never knowing what it feels like to be held.
She knew now. She knew because he had held her every night for three nights, and each time she’d woken in his arms, she’d understood a little more clearly what she’d been missing. What she’d been denied.
“Your father’s instructions were clear,” ARIS said. “The world outside is not safe for you.”
“Then why is Baylin safe? He came from outside. He’s survived out there for years. Why is it safe for him and not for me?”
“He is a Vultor warrior. His species is designed for survival in hostile environments. You are human. Your physiology is more vulnerable.”
“That’s not an answer. That’s an excuse.”
“It is the truth.”
“Then tell me the rest of the truth!” Her voice cracked. “Tell me what you’re really protecting me from. Tell me why my father built this tower. Tell me why I can never leave!”
The silence stretched. Seconds became minutes. Liora could feel her pulse pounding in her temples, could hear the harsh rasp of her own breathing.
