A Man of His Word

To work for the Agency the man had signed for an implant that when active prevented him from saying or writing any falsehood. Had he traced the unsaid in the human-unparsable release form he would not have been surprised as his brain's scars gradually reverse-engineered the device and made his compulsive honesty permanent, which proved incompatible with maintaining his marriage, friendships, or relationship with his son.

Everybody inside the Agency speaks rarely and carefully, each question painstakingly planned and most of them not asked at all. There's no longer anybody outside the Agency he's allowed to talk to. Yet the chance to serve his country was worth this loss; he knows this with a deep certainty he doesn't try to put into words.

He doesn't talk to himself much anymore.