SHILOH

Shiloh can’t move. Can’t breathe. Her screams have left her breathless. Her fear, her sense of self-preservation, has immobilized her. She can only watch as sparks jump from the stump where Razor’s head used to be, glinting in the dark.

Silas comes to stop, facing the dismembered body. His coattails snap and rustle about his torso, carried by so much momentum and centripetal force. His plasma claymore hums with energy. The yellow light from the plasma illumines his face, revealing the look of grim satisfaction there.

This…this can’t be Silas. It’s just impossible. Something has happened here. Something terrible.

Silas—this new version of Silas—examines Razor’s headless, still-standing body, as the sparks emitting from the stump spread and become more insistent, traveling downward from the neck as the corpse is steadily immolated. Within moments there’s nothing left but a pile of charred metal parts on the floor; that, and what looks like some kind of computer chip, green and glowing.

The chip floats upward into the air, then flies toward Silas’ chest, as if magnetically drawn. As it makes contact it disperses into a series of luminous, translucent tendrils that flow into Silas like water into an aqueduct. For a second, Silas closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, while his hair flares and thrashes about, jostled by some unseen force. When his hair settles, he opens his eyes.

“That…felt good,” he says.

He seems calm now. Gratified. The shift is stark and unsettling.

“Another step toward restoring your Nanobit reserves,” the shorter, long-haired Biodroid says, peering up at Silas with a look of respect and admiration, almost awe. “If not a step toward activating the Key.”

“Yeah, well,” Silas says. “Parallax and Artifice will be here soon enough, and we can get back to what we started all those years ago.”

He looks over at the other Biodroid, his expression suddenly soft and affectionate.

“It’s been a long time, old friend. It sounds like your wait was the longest. I’m sorry.”

“It was nothing,” the shorter Biodroid says. “I’d do it again, Rev. Though I do wish things could have gone…differently.”

Silas’ expression hardens again. “Echo. You’re not to blame for what happened. Do you understand me?”

A slow nod. Though, from his face, Shiloh gets the impression he does blame himself, and always will.

Perhaps Rev—not Silas, Rev—sees it too, but he lets it go.

“Do you have an ETA on the Protectorate force?”

It’s so surreal, the way they’ve moved on already. The metal corpse of the person they killed is mere feet away, but they pay it no mind.

“Soon,” the short one says. “Mere hours. Artifice is too cautious to face us head on. My calculations are—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Echo,” Rev says gently. “I trust you.”

Echo nods, to himself as well as Rev. “It will take some time to get the Super Fortress underway. We need the encounter to be on our terms. We’re dealing with Artifice, after all.”

“And Parallax,” Rev says, smirking slightly. “A fine pair those two make. Parallax’ holograms are quite the asset for someone like Artifice.”

“I’ve already taken that into consideration,” Echo says. “I intend to maintain some tactical flexibility. For all we know, she’ll have ascertained my identity already, or at least taken the possibility into consideration. She’ll use data from past battles to simulate our encounter ahead of time.”

“I’ll let you worry about all that. I’ll stick to what I do best. Just tell me where to hit them.”

“And what about us?” Cade says, stepping up next to Shiloh. “What are we supposed to do?”

It's so strange. He seems more determined than afraid, wanting answers, already bracing for what might come next.

The two Biodroids turn to look at Shiloh and Cade, as if noticing their presence for the first time.

"Why, you're our honored guests," Echo says. "Why do you think I let you in here to begin with?"

Cade glances down at the pile of metal parts on the floor. “I think I can guess.”

"Razor would have betrayed you," Rev says seriously, "just like he betrayed the Protectorate. He only looks out for his own interests."

"Which were aligned with ours," Cade says, pointing accusingly at Rev. "And don't worry, I'll get to…whatever you are."

"You're afraid," Echo says. "It's only natural."

"No," Cade says, "I'm pissed off. We got into this because we made an agreement with Silas. Tell me, where is he? Because I may have known him for only a few days, but it was long enough for me to know this guy isn’t him."

Rev returns Cade's glare with a flat look but doesn't say anything.

"The Silas you knew had lost his memory," Echo says patiently. "He was an amnesiac. I cured his amnesia. He’s been restored."

"Yeah, well, I liked him better before," Cade says. "This guy, I don’t like. I don’t trust him. And I don’t trust you."

"How unfortunate," Echo says. "Then it seems you have no choice but to leave the facility and go back to where you came from. If indeed there’s anything to go back to."

Cade's brows twist and crinkle together. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"While operating on Silas," Echo says, "I was able to access all of his recent memories. I collected more than enough data to deduce the outcome of your departure from the Cloister. The home you once knew is gone. I can all but guarantee it."

Cade blinks rapidly, his mouth twisting as if he's trying to comprehend what he just heard, trying to decide whether he believes it.

"I— I don’t understand," Shiloh says.

She hates the way her voice sounds, so frail, insecure, everything she can't afford to be. It’s getting harder to breathe, harder to stay standing. Her head feels so light, and yet so heavy at the same time.

Everything she has worked toward is turning on its head. Worse than that, if what Echo says is true...

"Evelyn Keller is the culprit," Echo says, turning to face her. "She may have lost most of her influence after the battle with Daimon, but she was still a member of the Board, part of the inner circle. She was biding her time, waiting for the right moment. When you left, you created the perfect opening for her to incite an uprising. She’s using Gavin as a figurehead, puppeteering him from the sidelines."

That does sound like Evelyn, though Shiloh does hate to admit it.

She should have put better safeguards in place. Even if it wasn’t true, even if Echo was wrong, there was still a possibility. One that Shiloh hadn’t accounted for, and that she probably hadn’t done enough to prevent.

“We’re just supposed to believe you?” Cade says.

Echo shrugs. “Can you afford not to?”

“I see what this is,” Cade says, an ominous gleam in his eyes. “Here it comes. The catch. The ask. You want something from us. Out with it, already.”

“It’s simple, really,” Echo says, looking at Shiloh, now. “We want the same thing SERAPHIM wants. You.

“You get it, don’t you? Those MALAK drones weren’t attacking you. If they were, you’d be dead. No, they were herding you. Sending you somewhere safe and out of sight. The Protectorate Elites were like wolves, closing in on SERAPHIM’s prize. The HERALD was a warning shot, to drive the wolves away. The Protectorate doesn’t know what you are, doesn’t care about you. But I do. And SERAPHIM knows that. They know that for the time being, I’ll keep you safe.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

There’s some logic to it. That first part, at least. But he definitely lost her somewhere along the way.

She shakes her head. “You’re not making any sense. I have nothing to do with any of this.”

“On the contrary, Shiloh,” Echo says. “You’re everything.”

Both the Biodroids advance toward her.

Cade steps in front. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

Echo tilts his head at him curiously. “Or what?”

He grabs Cade by the wrist. When Cade tries to wrench himself away, Echo reaches up and grabs him by the jaw.

“Don’t mistake yourself,” Echo says. “I won’t hesitate to take your life. And I don’t think you want that. If there’s even the slightest chance that you can still help the Cloister, I know you’ll do your best to stay alive so you can be there for them. Or am I wrong?”

Cade's face twists into a snarl, his eyes flaring. But then he takes a deep breath, harnessing himself, achieving a degree of outward calm.

Shiloh doesn't blame him. For one, she believes Echo is telling the truth. Any interference with Echo's goals will be swiftly shut down, and neither he nor Rev seem to have any qualms about taking the lives of those who get in their way. And it's not like there's anything Cade can do to stop them in the first place. It simply isn't worth it.

Cade sags, defeated, as Echo produces a pair of cuffs. Holding them up, he turns Cade around, and there’s a metallic snap as circlets close around Cade's wrists, locking his arms behind his back. This Echo person really has thought of everything.

Meanwhile, Rev closes in on Shiloh, looming over her.

Is it possible that he's somehow taller than he used to be? Granted, Silas was always a head taller than Shiloh. But at the moment, she could swear it’s more. It’s as if he’s undergone some kind of physical transformation, growing in both size and presence.

As Rev reaches out to grab her arm, their eyes meet. She's surprised to see a certain softness there—a residual fondness for her that he seems to have inherited from Silas' more recent memories. But there’s a distance too. When he grabs her arm, the contact is harsh and assertive.

"If you'll come with us," Echo says, guiding Cade toward the door, "there’s something I need to show you."

As if she has any choice.

Rev follows Echo, pulling Shiloh with him. Briefly, she considers using her Jacktech against Rev, but as far as she can tell, his ports are covered and closed up. Besides, given his display of strength and speed earlier, she doubts she could actually get the drop on him. This is an older and far more experienced version of Silas—someone who knows how to use his body and OS to its fullest capacity. From what Echo said earlier, Rev may not be as strong as he used to be, but he’s still formidable nonetheless, surely much stronger than even Daimon was. And Shiloh was only able to hack Daimon thanks to some extensive coordination and planning. None of her usual assets would work here, and her best asset, Silas himself, is completely beyond her now. Her greatest advantage has become her dire weakness.

Echo seems to be leading back toward the elevator. He stops in front of it, pressing the button. As the door opens, he pulls Cade inside. Shiloh is pushed in next, followed by Rev, his body becoming a sort of barrier in front of the elevator door.

The elevator shoots upward. The ride is cramped, awkward, and mercifully short, with all of its occupants staring intently at the walls and floor, ignoring one another, despite being in such close quarters.

As soon as the door opens, Rev pulls Shiloh through it, into a corridor identical to the one they just left.

This time, Rev is the one leading the way. He seems to know exactly what destination Echo has in mind. They follow the winding corridor, passing several closed doors on both the left and the right, before coming across a door wider than the others—one that slides open upwards rather than side to side.

Still tightly gripping Shiloh’s arm, Rev punches a couple of buttons on the keypad next to the door.

"I just want you to know," he says, staring ahead at the door, "I’m sorry it had to be like this. I wish it could have been different, for your sake at least. It’s unfortunate I had to reveal myself to you in such a manner."

"Why?" Shiloh asks.

"Because you weren’t ready to see the truth yet."

As a red light just above the door flicks on, Rev looks back at her. "I understand how you feel. I get how unsettling this all is. I wish it was possible for you to take more time to adjust. Unfortunately, we’re on a bit of a timetable here."

"...adjust?" Shiloh says. "Silas, what you did back there? That was wrong!"

Frowning, almost pained-looking, he turns his eyes back toward the doorway. “That’s one perspective.”

As the door slides open, he steps through it, pulling her with him.

There’s no point in arguing with him. Echo and Rev don’t see the world the same way she does, and that’s part of what scares her so much about them. The fact that these two Biodroids are now at large is a bad omen. It doesn’t bode well for

On the other side of the doorway is a square chamber with another sliding door similar to the first. Glancing back into the corridor, Echo pushes Cade against the far wall.

"Stay right here. And just know that I have cameras everywhere. If you try anything, I’ll know."

Cade doesn't say anything for a moment, but his eyes meet Shiloh’s. He stares through and past her. His face has a certain eerie calm. More akin to hopelessness than surety.

As Echo steps into the chamber, the sliding door closes behind him, cutting off Shiloh and Cade’s eye contact, leaving her alone with the two Biodroids.

Rev lets go of her arm and steps over to a keypad set into the wall.

"And what is it you wanted to show me?"

"The truth,” Echo says. "Unfortunately, humans aren’t particularly well-equipped to handle the truth. Lies are much more comfortable. You might say that human society itself is predicated on a series of lies—mass delusions cherished by the many, held as sacrosanct. Your life has been no different. There is an assumption at the very core of your identity, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to break it. In a very real sense, I’m going to have to break you.”

Rev presses a button on the keypad, causing a slight rumble in the surrounding metal walls. Shiloh recognizes the mechanical whirring of big cogs clanking and turning.

"Normally,” Echo continues, “ridding someone of a delusion takes time. But that’s a resource we don’t have, so we can’t afford to be gentle. For that, I am sorry. But I’m sure after all this, you’ll understand why we had no choice. You’ll thank us in the end.”

There’s something off about all this. Familiar, rather. The nature of this room. The way the walls tremble and vibrate.

There’s a low hissing sound, and a soreness in Shiloh’s ears, as the air pressure in the room starts to change.

“A lie is simply a story, isn’t it?” Echo says, still rambling on. “A narrative. And what would we be without narratives? Would we see the world through the cold, hard light of unfiltered reality? Would we be able to bear such a thing?

“It seems your father didn’t believe so.

“Your story is an interesting one. You were born of a woman who died in childbirth, no doubt a very special woman, someone your father never liked to talk about because the memories were too painful. In fact, everyone loved her, didn’t they? They missed her dearly, but you could swear that every time they saw you, it was like opening up that wound afresh. Rather than being endeared to you, it was almost like they despised you for being a sore reminder of the good woman that had been lost.”

He’s only partly right. Yes, the death of her mother had been a tragedy, and yes, she’d always been a bit of an outcast in her community. But she was certain it had more to do with the Jacktech implant. She had been too different, too much of an anomaly in such a superstitious community.

It’s also true that people had rarely spoken of her mother, but she can’t see the relevance.

She keeps her mouth shut, not wanting to validate these ravings with a response. Meanwhile, Echo studies her intently, his eyes raking back and forth over her face.

"You should already know where I’m going with this,” Echo says. “But some part of you refuses to see it. That’s just how powerful a narrative can be—it shapes you, shapes your entire world. I can almost respect the meticulous construction of it, the integrity of what your father managed to build. I can almost believe you're better off. But I’m still going to have to take it from you."

There’s a loud thunk somewhere in the walls. Rev presses another button on the keypad, and a red light flashes on the wall as the door ahead of Shiloh slides upward. Light filters in through the widening crack. Drifts of fine sand slide in through the opening, scattering across the floor.

Shiloh takes a deep breath, completely inflating her lungs. She holds her breath.

Something shoves against her from behind, hitting the middle of her back. She’s knocked forward and through the opening. She tips forward and sideways, rolling as she hits the sand, doing her best to absorb the impact of the fall. She rolls three times, propelled by the momentum of the shove, before landing on her back, sliding to a stop on the sand.

It’s the nightmare she’s always feared. Being trapped outside without any clean oxygen to support her. Soon the toxins in the atmosphere will enter her lungs, her mouth and throat, and eventually her bloodstream, attacking her biology. Soon, she will die.

Holding her breath, she sits upright. She has to get to her feet. She has to get back inside, and quickly.

Swift footfalls behind her. A spray of sand as Rev skids to stop next to her. And then he’s straddling her, holding her down, a hand on each of her shoulders.

She thrashes, struggling. But he’s too heavy, too strong. She’s going to die out here. She’s going to—

“Shy,” Rev says, grabbing her head and forcing her to look at him. “It’s okay. It’s a lie. It was always a lie. Dr. Darvin, he did it to protect you. Don’t you see? You would have been killed otherwise.”

No. No, she can’t let it in. She can’t let it be real. She can’t—

She can’t…

“Breathe,” Rev says softly. Placatingly. “Please. Just breathe.”

Shiloh stares past Rev’s face, into the muddy, gleaming, cloud-smudged sky. The light is hurting her eyes, making her tear up. Or is that actually the reason why she feels moisture pooling in the corners, sliding down each side of her face, onto her neck?

It’s happening, that old cliche. Her life is flashing before her eyes. The parts she can remember, anyway.

She has no memory of her mother. No memory of the implant operation, or the accident that necessitated it. And for as long as Shiloh can remember, she’s been treated as an outcast, as separate, despite the fact that her father was loved by all. And Evelyn Keller, always so firmly against Shiloh pursuing her father’s dream, insisting that she should remain in the confines of the Cloister. Shiloh remembers the last conversation she and Evelyn had, just before she left for the facility. What had Evelyn said to her?

“I see that I can’t stop you from looking for answers, anymore. I just hope, for your sake, you never find them.”

“Shiloh,” Rev says. “You have to breathe.”

She can’t. If she does, she’ll know the truth, one way or the other. She’ll have to leave this brief, interminable moment of doubt and hope.

But she has no choice. As the moments pass, she feels her lungs burning, screaming for air.

Her lungs contract, as if of their own accord. They expand, as Shiloh gasps for air. Oxygen streams in through her mouth and throat. Her lungs are filled.

No nausea. No stabbing pain from the toxins. Nothing.

It’s impossible. Here she is, doing what she’s always dreamed of, breathing the clean, open air of the outside. But this isn’t the scene she’d hoped or imagined it would be. Instead, it’s a confirmation of the truth. Of what some part of her had always suspected, deep down. Deep down, she had always known.

Darvin is not her father.

She doesn’t belong in the Cloister. Perhaps she doesn’t even belong on this earth; not really.

She is not human.

She never was.