Inquisitor by Mitchell Hogan

what?”
    “Everything.”
    “I’m in no mood for games.”
    The girl frowned. “Games are fun; they make me play them all day, but I don’t mind.”
    “Who makes you play them?”
    “They do. My friends. No. That’s not the correct word.” She waved a hand in dismissal of Angel’s query. “I must ask you a very important question.”
    Angel blinked at the girl’s stern tone. She certainly didn’t talk like a child.
    “And why should I answer?” she said, feeling in her gut that she would regret not running out of the apartment as fast as she possibly could.
    The girl glanced to either side, as if worried she was being observed. “Because you are Angel Xia, pronounced ‘see-ya’, born in 4277, parents unknown, adopted at age six, a Privileged of House Liwei, whose commercial interests span a number of worlds and involves, but is not limited to, cybernetic implant manufacture and research, asteroid mining and processing, and a little-known arm concerned with scouring the lost worlds for ancient artifacts.”
    “Why invent something yourself when you can just find it?” Angel said.
    “Raised along with your adopted siblings, you were one of seven to reach adolescence.”
    Accidents , she thought, still not really believing it. Angel gripped her gun tighter. She pressed her tongue against her teeth. “Anyone would know this with a little research. I thought you had a question.”
    “When three more of your siblings were killed in an apparent kidnap and ransom, you disavowed your House and cut all ties, familial and monetary, moving from place to place until you decided to become an Inquisitor. A peripatetic life.”
    Angel’s guts twisted, and she sucked air in through clenched teeth. For a moment, she remained silent. “That’s a big word for a small girl. Being a Privileged isn’t as rewarding or glamorous as most people think, and it’s decidedly more dangerous.”
    “They never caught the people behind your siblings’ murders, did they?”
    Angel shrugged. Sleepless nights. Crying until she had no more tears left. “No. Is that your question?”
    The girl shrugged, mimicking her. “No. Shortly after solving your first case as an Inquisitor, you moved in with a man, one Mikal Castell, your first love.”
    Angel’s chest ached. “They come and go.” I go. Always me.
    “Despite repeated attempts and medical treatment, you were unable to conceive.”
    The truth spoken out loud hit her like a knife to the heart. Angel paused for a moment, breathed deeply a few times, then cleared her throat. “Just as well, eh? After what happened with Mikal, imagine me as a single mother. No thanks.”
    “Mikal recovered from the wounds he received on one of your mercenary missions, but you left him.”
    “Saved him the trouble. He wanted children.”
    “So did you. He disappeared, taking some clothes and emptying his bank account. And even with all the resources available to you, you have never been able to find him.”
    She hadn’t tried, really. “He always was a slippery bastard.” Angel’s vision blurred, and she rubbed her eyes. Mikal and her laughing over his birthday dinner, his hand touching hers, eyes she could fall into…
    “I could help you find him, but in return, I need help of my own.”
    The offer hung in the air between them. Angel feared to speak before taking a moment to consider the consequences of her answer.
    “You seem pretty well informed to me. What could you possibly need me to help with?”
    The girl smiled uneasily. “I’m trapped. I need help to escape.”
    “Escape from where?”
    “Not where. What. This isn’t really me you’re talking to.”
    Angel raised an eyebrow. “This is a program?”
    “Just so. Imagine, if you will, a man who dreams of sailing the ocean. But he works in a corporation, in a tedious office job, where he spends fifteen hours a day toiling away for someone else. So, one day he decides to build his sailing ship and buys a piece of wood. The