Page 25 of Thexan

I absorbed that because I couldn’t argue with it. Not really. We had patched walls, aging weapons, and patrols made up of people who had learned by surviving, not by being trained for war.

“You’re injured,” I said.

“Yes.”

“You can’t maintain stability without me close.”

His jaw tightened slightly. “That remains a limiting factor.”

“And there are at least three of them.”

“Yes.”

I waited for something in his expression to acknowledge how impossible that sounded.

Nothing changed.

“All right,” I said slowly. “Then I’m going to ask the obvious question.”

He didn’t look away.

“How?”

Silence held for a beat, not uncomfortable, but deliberate.

“You don’t have anything out there,” I continued. “No supply cache, no backup, no one coming in to help. You’re wounded, your system is unstable, and you just told me these men are trained to erase threats without hesitation. So unless there’s something you haven’t mentioned, I don’t see how this works.”

“I do not require external support.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

A flicker of something passed through his expression then, not doubt, not hesitation, but a measured shift in focus, as though he were recalibrating what I needed to know against what he would have preferred to keep contained.

“I know,” he said at last.

“Then answer the question.”

He studied me for a moment longer.

“I had intended to limit your knowledge of my capabilities.”

“Why?”

“Because knowledge can make you valuable to those hunting me.”

“They’re already willing to kill me if they find me with you.”

“Yes,” he said, and this time the answer carried more weight. “That assessment has changed.”

“Then stop giving me half the picture.”

His attention dropped briefly to our joined hands before returning to my face.

“You are correct,” he said. “I do not have a cache. I do not have backup. I do not have external weapons positioned in the terrain.”

“Good,” I said. “Then we’re working with reality.”

“I am.”