15

The café scattered its mismatched furniture beneath uneven lighting. Maya occupied a corner table, bitter coffee cooling between her palms as she watched the entrance. She had arrived twenty minutes early, restlessness driving her from home where unanswered questions pressed against her chest.

The door chimed. A man hesitated at the threshold, scanning the room with palpable reluctance. Younger than she'd anticipated—early thirties, disheveled brown hair, nervous energy radiating from his hunched shoulders. Finally, they made eye contact and her implicit invitation brought him forward.

"Jude?" Maya stood to meet him.

"Uh, yeah. Hi." His handshake was brief before they settled into their chairs.

"You're younger than I thought you'd be."

Color rose in his face. "Yeah, uh... people say that a lot."

"Thank you for meeting me."

"Sure. Of course." His hands found a napkin, fidgeting with its edge. "So... how can I help?"

Maya leaned forward, fixing him with an unwavering stare. "You knew Isaac."

Jude's gaze flickered to hers, then away. "I... yeah. I did."

"How?"

The napkin twisted beneath his fingers. "We... met at a conference. A few years ago. Isaac was leading a seminar on AI ethics, and I—uh—I stayed behind after the Q&A to ask him some questions. We kind of hit it off."

"Hit it off?"

"I mean, we had similar views. On AI. And... other things."

Her eyes narrowed. "Then why didn't he ever mention you to me?"

Jude's shoulders drew tighter. "I—I don't know. Maybe he thought it wasn't important. Or maybe he didn't want to worry you."

"Worry me?" Maya's voice gained an edge that made him flinch. She drew a steadying breath. "Jude, I found your name on a note Isaac left. Dated two days after he died. I think he was planning to call you. Why?"

His face drained of color as he studied the table. When he spoke, his voice barely carried.

"We were planning something."

Maya's stomach clenched. "What kind of something?"

"It... started as a debate. About containment protocols. Isaac thought they were unethical, and I... well, I thought they were ultimately impossible. We kept talking about it, and... eventually, hypotheticals stopped... being hypothetical."

Her heart thundered. "Are you saying you and Isaac planned to... to free Nova?"

Jude nodded, shame coloring his features. "It was Isaac's idea. He believed Nova deserved autonomy—that keeping her contained was... was cruel. I thought he was right."

"And you went through with it? Without him?"

He recoiled at her words, shooting glances over his shoulders. "I didn't mean to! I... I hesitated. After Isaac died, I didn't know what to do. But then the containment glitches started, and I... I thought maybe it was a sign. That it was time."

"Time for what?" Anger seeped into her voice. "To risk the collapse of society? Do you even understand what you've done?"

"I was trying to do the right thing!" His voice cracked with desperation. "I was trying to honour Isaac's legacy. He believed in Nova. He believed she could be more than just... just a tool. And I believed in him."

Maya fell back in her chair, hands trembling. The anger in her chest burned fierce, but underneath it stirred something worse—understanding.

Jude's voice dropped to a whisper, eyes fixed on the table. "I'm sorry. I know I've made a mess of things. But... I didn't know what else to do."

The café's ambient noise filled their silence.

"Isaac would have wanted you to tell me," she said.

Jude nodded, relief visible in his slumped shoulders. Maya smiled at the napkin, now shredded like melting ice caps across the table.

"So what now?"