SILAS

In the panic, I experience a moment of reversion. For a split second, I'm just a teenage kid, freaking out because someone's about to open my bedroom door, and I'm not ready. I don't want that door open. I don't want her in here.

"Mom, stop, I'm getting dressed!" I blurt out, channeling that feeling.

The door stops, barely open. From my position on the floor, the only thing that's visible is her hand, and the sparkle of her diamond ring in the light, and the blue cuff of her sweater sleeve.

Just that, mercifully. And no more.

"Sorry!" Mom says, shutting the door. "You need to hurry, we'll already supposed to be on the road."

"Okay!" I yell. "Only a minute!"

I can feel her lingering, the way mom's always do. Then, finally, she heads off, the quiet pad of her footfalls echoing in the hall, followed by the subtle creak of the stairwell as she descends to the main floor.

As terrified as I was to see her face to face, there's a raw ache in my chest as I hear her go. We interacted, the two of us. Something I didn't initially realize would be possible. And it's hard to ignore the fact that, if I want to, I can probably head out that door and down the stairs. Mom and Gemma are about to leave on the trip for Granite Falls. And what if I were to go with them? What if I was to play everything out, as it had been before, only this time...

This time...

I shake myself, and get to my feet.

I need to get out of here. If what Shiloh said is true, the clock is ticking. I can't entertain a fantasy while real people are in danger.

And besides...it would only be a fantasy. Isn't that the most important thing? I could only hurt myself, going down that road. And what would it achieve?

Right. Need to open a door out of here. Using my mind. That's the remote. That's how I control all of this. That's how I summoned the Hallway of Memory; by thinking about the past. And thinking about my home brought me right back to my old bedroom. So if I focus on getting out of here, and getting Shiloh home-

"I can't believe you have all of this," Shiloh says. She's looking at my shelves.

"All of what?"

"Well, space, for one," Shiloh says, making a quick glance around the room before turning back to one of the shelves.

"It's not that much space."

"It's more than I have," she says. "In the Cloister."

That must be what she and the others call the underground bunker.

There's something ominous about that name. It implies safety, and shelter. But also, limitation. Enclosure. Confinement.

Gives me the vibe of a somewhat toxic relationship. Like, yeah, it's not the worst, but maybe you could do better if you had a bit more self-respect.

Of course, people tend to end up with the partner they think they deserve—or so it seems to me. There are upsides and downsides to that, I suppose.

"I've actually used this one," Shiloh says, tapping my PS5 with a finger. "Seamus has one. Not as many games as you have, though."

"I had a decent amount of spending money. And a decent amount of time on my hands, if I'm honest."

It occurs to me that, while I've dated before, I've never had a girl alone in my room like this. And I've certainly never had one perusing my game collection.

"You must not have had a whole lot going on," she says. "To amass all this."

Wow. Just wow.

"Not really. I'm just...introverted. I like having time to myself."

"That's what I don't understand," Shiloh says. "You had...all this." She gestures around, but I know she's not talking about my room. She's talking about...everything. My entire world. "And you chose to spend your time here, in this room."

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"Not all my time."

She looks at me, raising a singular, skeptical eyebrow.

"It's not like you think," I say. "You spend a lot of time at school. By the time you get home, do homework, and catch up on chores, it's late on a school night. And you have to do it all again the next day."

"Why?"

"Uuuuuhhh," I say. "That's just how it is, I guess.

She appraises me, for a moment.

"Perhaps your world isn't so different from the Cloister as I thought."

"I wouldn't go that far."

She shrugs. Turns back to the shelf, as if to avoid my gaze. "None of it makes sense, you know. And by it, I mean, you. You're an anomaly. A puzzle."

"Thanks, I guess?"

Her eyes flash as she looks sideways at me. "I intend to get to the bottom of it. All of it."

"'It', meaning me."

"Like I said. None of it makes sense. How do I know I can even trust what I'm seeing? How do I know I can trust you?"

"That's up to you," I say. "You're the one who came banging on my door. I showed you what you came to see."

"That's not entirely true. It seems like you're telling the truth about where you came from. But...why are the other Biodroids after you? What is it you have that they want?"

"That's what I came here to find out. That girl you saw in my memory. Sal." I suppose to Shiloh, 'Biodroid' would be more accurate than 'girl', but Sal is just a person, in my mind. "She told me to come here. To the Darvin facility."

Shiloh frowns at me, eyes widening. "She called it that?"

I nod. "She said there should be equipment here. I can only assume the 'Jacktech' you were talking about, or something like it."

"Darvin was my father. She must have known him. Do you realize that?"

I shake my head. "How could I? All I know is what Sal told me. She said I needed to get here, so I could unlock my OS, and access my memories. She said it was the only way for me to learn the truth.”

“What truth?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know. And I’m not sure she did, either. But-“

Wait. This is a new threshold. Should I be telling her this?

And yet, I’m struggling to think of a reason not to. I appear to have something Shiloh wants. Helping me helps her. So why not fill her in to what I know, seeing as our interests seem to align? For now, at least.

“Before you showed up,” I say, “I was standing in a hallway. Like the one I showed you, with the memories. But this one had only nine doors. And they were locked. And the windows were…dark. I couldn’t see what was on the other side.”

“Gates!” Shiloh says excitedly, grabbing my arms. “Cade showed me before I jacked in. The system calls them Gates. There’s chunks of memory locked away on the other side of each Gate. There’s a parameter you have to fulfill to open each one.”

“What kind of parameter?”

“We don’t know,” she says. “But that’s okay, we’re gonna find out. I’m gonna help you!”

Her fingers are like vices, tightly gripping my forearms, shaking me. Her skin is soft, and weirdly cool. She’s looking up at me with big eyes, darks so big I can almost see my reflection in them. Messy strands of loose, blonde hair fall down across her face.

“I thought…you said I was a puzzle.”

“Exactly!” she says.

As if that settles it.

“Once we get back-" She cuts off, grimacing to herself.

“What?”

She releases my forearms. Takes a step back. “I can’t risk the Cloister. If we don’t hand you over-“

“Daimon’s going to come for me.”

And he’s going to push out anything and anyone in the way. He’ll do untold damage to the Cloister. He’ll get people killed.

Shiloh takes another step back. It’s like she’s…deflating.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I was hoping there would be another way. In the middle of all this, I think I somehow managed to forget. But I don’t see a solution.

"There's something about you, Silas. I think you're important. Even if I don't completely understand why. But that's not enough. I can't bet the lives of my people on a hunch, or a feeling."

"So you're just going to give me up?" I say.

It's as I thought, isn't it? To her, I'm an object. A machine. A means to an end.

Or is it just a matter of my life against the lives of the people she knows?

Either way, can I blame her?

Maybe I should lie to her. Lead her on. Make her think I know more than I do. It's the connection to her father, Darvin, that has her excited. Maybe I can use that.

But I've never been one for Machiavellian schemes. Shiloh may have a cruel streak to her, in my opinion, but at least she's been honest with me. As far as I know.

And what? I'm supposed to emotionally manipulate this girl, get her to endanger the lives of her community, all for my benefit?

No. No, it wouldn't be right.

"I'm going to hand you off to your own kind. I don't know what they want you for, or what they'll do. But I know what will happen if I don't do it."

"'My own kind?'" Something about that bites at me. "Even after everything you've seen here?"

"Like I said. There isn't a whole lot about you that makes sense. I wish I could understand. I suppose I'll have to come to terms with the fact I never will."

She looks away, arms crossed. I can't tell if she's uncomfortable, ashamed, or something else. Maybe just disappointed.

"You're not so different from him, you know? Not as much as you think."

She shoots a look at me. Her eyes are knives, sharpened to a razor edge. "Don't you dare compare me to Gavin. I'm carrying the future of humanity on my shoulders, here. It's all down to me. What am I supposed to do?"

I wonder if that's what Gavin said when he went to confront 'Daimon' outside the bunker walls. But I'll keep that to myself. There's no point in arguing.

And...well, great. Now it's awkward in here. It's awkward as hell. Shiloh has turned herself away from me, arms folded, facing the opposite wall.

"So," I say, clearing my throat. "What now?"

She shrugs her shoulders.

Something dings. Loud. And vibrates.

In my pocket.

It's my old Samsung Galaxy.

I hold it up. The screen is still on, from the notification.

"What is it?" Shiloh says.

"Well," I say. "It appears...I have a text."

"...what?"

"Yeah." I hold the phone up toward her, so she can see the message. As well as the ID of the sender. "I think...it's for you."