So much for that. Something in Wash sinks at the lack of response, and not for the first time he grits his teeth and hates what has been done to them. To all of them.

There are things inhabiting Isaac's mind that are walking his body around like a puppet, making him do these things, and even if they can't help being crazy it's still not something that anyone deserved. To be consumed like that.

He watches the gun. Yeah, he's not much of a threat right now, half out of armor, exhausted, alone, with little chance of winning a hand to hand fight and none of getting to his weapons before Meta can pull the trigger. What he can't figure out is what the AIs want with him. They could have executed him in his sleep if they felt he was impeding their goals, or if they had wanted to take his armor. Why wake him, why show him the gun, why stage it like this?

(He can't bring himself to think that maybe, maybe they were going to shoot him, and Isaac stopped them. He can't bear to think that there's something left behind that blank visor, trying to communicate.)

"What do you want."

Every AI in that helmet knew who he was. Maybe, if Isaac wouldn't or couldn't answer, one of them would.