"What are we looking for?" I asked as Larkin searched the shelves.

"A device. Tech." His hands were already moving items on the nearest rack, pushing them aside. "It’ll have dark metal housing and will fit in a palm." He held his hand out. "Flat, and heavy for its size. It would have been important to them. Important enough to keep with their treasures."

I watched him disturb the arrangements. "We should be systematic," I said, the word feeling strange in my mouth. It was something Oren would have said, but now mine to use. "If we disturb everything at once, we might miss it."

Larkin paused, a tangle of green thread in one fist. "You're right. Of course you're right." He took a deep breath. "Where would you start?"

I studied the curved walls with their twelve sections of shelving, each divided into five levels. The items seemed placed without obvious order. Delicate things were stacked beside sturdy ones, small boxes wedged between larger artefacts. Everything was coated in the same fine layer of undisturbed dust.

"Tell me more about what we're seeking," I said, moving to the first section. "You said flat and dark metal?"

"Yes, but..." He frowned. “I don’t know what it looks like. It was described to me by someone who had it described to them. No one has seen one in living memory.”

“Well, what is it?”

He smiled. “A locator device. For finding other voidholds.”

“There is something like that in the wardroom.” I thought of our pilot functionary Gould, in its deep-down chamber of interfaces and controls.

“That’s an integrated locator, it only works with its voidhold. The one we need is simpler. It is less accurate because we don’t need precise positioning, just a direction to head in. It’s for human use.” He shook his head. "It has to be here. They would have protected it." He turned back to the shelf and continued rummaging.

I was sceptical of his certainty. Nothing so important would be stored so openly.

“Why don’t you start on the top shelf, beginning with the left section? I’ll start at the bottom from the right. We can meet in the middle."

"Good idea!"

As I knelt to examine the lowest shelf, Larkin continued on the higher levels, his search scattering dust into the still air.

A small box caught my attention. It was human-made, with uneven edges. I opened it carefully, finding only a small piece of wood inside.

"Nothing useful here," Larkin muttered above me, pulling things out, creating small piles of displaced history on an empty shelf.

In the fourth section of shelving, my fingers brushed something that made me pause. It was not the device Larkin sought, just a small, insignificant thing. I picked it up. It was a dull yet delicate thing, curved like a question mark, with a fine webbing.

Larkin noticed my hesitation. "What have you found?"

"I don’t know.”

He came over. “May I see?”

I handed him the object, and he held it up to the light. "It's an ear ornament. Just jewellery. Things like this were quite common, once. Before they became 'inefficient’." He turned it under his gaze. “It was probably your ancestor’s beloved piece. Do you want to wear it?”

“Me?”

“Why not?” He pointed to my ear. "Shall I.”

I nodded, and he carefully brushed aside my hair to access my ear, right where the fabric was fused to my skin. His fingers were warm as he attached the piece. It settled around my ear with a strange rightness, as if it had been waiting for me.

"There," he said. "Now you look pretty."

The webbing on the ornament seemed to pulse against my ear, a subtle vibration that felt almost alive. I thought this was probably a normal thing for jewellery, so I didn’t ask him about it. I turned back to our search, trying to focus past the strange feeling against my ear. But then the vibrations changed, becoming a pattern that made me pause. It was a sort of hummy click, like fast, far-off speech.

Alert.

I froze as meaning crystallized.

Whole Voidhold. Alert.

The clear words made me fumble a box I was examining. It hit the ground with a soft clunk.

"Careful," Larkin said.

“Sorry.” I picked it up.

Alert. Whole Voidhold. Alert.

It was a functionary voice. Their clicking language, transformed byt he ornament into clear words against my skull. I kept my face carefully blank. I wanted to rip it off, but there was something in the urgency that stayed my hand.

White Room containment warning. Exercise caution.

White Room? Had Yeller and Ecru been unable to stop the failure? I moved mechanically through the motions of searching the shelf as I waited for the voice to reveal more.

Sentix is disoriented and aggressive. Avoid causing further trauma.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

My heart chilled as I imagined the commander's face, stretched and grim and raging. I blinked and shook my head, trying to focus on the physical task of searching. Should I remove the ornament?

No, what if the commander was running through the corridors right this moment, heading for the Stillness…I wanted to know.

I needed a moment to think, to process what was happening. I stepped back from the shelves, ostensibly to check a higher level. One hand brushed against a shelf for balance, the other hand reaching for my ear.

“Are you okay?” Larkin asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Just a little overwhelmed by…by all of this.”

“I can imagine!” He said with a laugh before turning to the next section.

Sentix is displaying some cognitive failure. His reasoning has decreased.

I took a deep, steadying breath and let my gaze wander to the center of the room, where the calm patterns from the dome danced from the table to the floor.

That's when I saw it.

From this new angle, the light caught the rough floor differently. It showed marks of wear near the large table. My eyes followed them, noting their regularity.

Sentix is experiencing temporal confusion. Attempting to calm him.

"The table," I said, speaking louder than I should have.

“Hmm?” Larkin barely glanced over. "What?"

Continuing attempts at verbal de-escalation.

"Look at the floor." I pointed to the wear patterns. "Someone moved this table. Many times."

He finally turned, frustration evident in his stance. But as he took in what I was showing him, his expression changed. "Well, how did I miss that?" He crouched to examine the marks more closely.

Sentix showing signs of extreme psychological distress. Requesting medical support from Redd.

"Help me," I said to Larkin, already moving to the table's edge. Together, we began to push. The table resisted at first, then moved with a grinding sound.

Extreme psychological fragility detected. Increasing efforts to stabilize.

Beneath the table lay an outline of a small hatch.

"Shade," Larkin breathed, "you're brilliant!" His hands were already on the raised edges of the hatch, raising it.

Redd en route with stabilizers. Maintain distance.

Below the floor was a compartment. In it lay several boxes of varying sizes, their surfaces darkened with age, and a palm-sized flat, square object.

Sentix becoming increasingly agitated. Exercise extreme caution.

“That’s it!” Larkin cried, lifting it carefully out of the compartment. "At last, our way to find the others ourselves." The device lit up in his hands, showing blips of colour among waving lines in many different shades. “Yes! Voidhold Two! I can go to Voidhold Two!”

Physical intervention required. Minimal force protocols in effect.

Go to Voidhold Two? I wasn't sure I was hearing him correctly. What about my sister who might already be carrying his child? What about the binding our family made? Our voidhold had given up so much to have him, we had traded away our observation turret, a vast piece of our mass. That loss had left us smaller, weaker, more vulnerable, but it had been worth it for him.

Maintain non-threatening posture while containing.

And now here he was, ready to abandon us, to leave us diminished. I wanted to ask why. What was it about Voidhold Two?

Sentix resisting.

But his fierce joy as he studied the device's display made these words stick in my throat. His excitement filled the still air of the chamber, infectious and wild. In that moment, I had my first understanding of freedom, how it could burn a hole through duty.

Then he grabbed my shoulder, and I jumped.

“Come with me, Shade. I want to show you what’s out there. Voidhold Two. You need to see it, you need to know the world.”

“Me?" I was shocked. "No! I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He took hold of my other shoulder. “Look, we are just going to bring this locator to Voidhold Two, and then we’ll come right back. I’ll bring you back, I promise, and I’ll hold up my end of the deal with your family. Okay?”

Increasing force level to maximum. Harm unavoidable.

“Yes.”

I was barely aware of what I said.

✾

The voice followed me after we left the Stillness, providing a map of functionary movements.

Shift change initiated in Maintenance Level 3.

Redd proceeding to medical storage.

White Room status: Sentix contained and stable but requiring continued observation.

I tugged Larkin's sleeve before he could turn down one corridor. "Wait," I whispered. "Let's go another way." Gren was ahead, doing its regular checks.

Larkin followed my lead without question, but after the third such detour, he gave me an appraising look. "You're good at this. You really do see everything, don't you?"

I nodded, listening to the next update.

Yeller reports White Room systems stabilizing.

Routine maintenance beginning in Section 4.

Garden Room irrigation cycle commencing.

"This way," I said, pulling him down a service tunnel. When we reached the cargo bay, Larkin moved quickly to his sleek black craft. I hesitated at the entrance.

"Shouldn't we leave through the Waygate?" I asked.

He looked up from the access panel. "Waygate's for arriving. Different protocols. We can just bail out here." A smile crossed his face as the craft hatch opened. "A much faster exit strategy."

Sentix vital signs returning to acceptable parameters.

Initiating standard evening protocols.

Gren beginning cleaning cycle in thren.

“Wait here,” he said as he climbed through the hatch. “I need to make the pre-flight checks.”

I stood at the hatch, my hand resting on its cold surface. Throughout my entire life, I had never been far from a functionary. Even in sleep, they monitored my breathing, my movements, my compliance. The thought of stepping into this small craft, of leaving everything I knew—

Human presence required for final check on White Room.

Locating Shade for human-present.

Shade is not in the thren.

Shade is not in her quarters.

Shade is not in the Garden Room.

My fingers trembled against the craft's hull. What was I doing? I had duties, protocols, a place in our cautious, orderly world.

Accessing surveillance records for Shade's last known location.

Last known location: White Room.

Alerting Mira to unexplained absence.

Initiating full search protocols.

Beyond the cargo bay's shield, Mosogon's eternal storms churned. I had only ever seen them through layers of protection, through viewports and barriers. Now they seemed closer, more alive. More dangerous.

Search expanding to maintenance levels.

Mira expressing extreme displeasure.

Rashala displaying signs of extreme agitation.

My hand moved to my veil, touching the familiar fabric. It had defined me for so long, it was my shield, my identity, my place in our ordered world. To leave would mean becoming something else entirely. Someone without protocols, without boundaries. Someone who might have to remove her veil.

Alert: Unauthorized access detected in storage section 3-15.

Implementing containment procedures.

All efforts redirecting to locate Shade.

The voices in my ear grew more urgent, more focused. They were looking for me specifically now. Not just as a missing task-component or a protocol violation, but as someone who had deviated.

"Shade?" Larkin's voice came from inside the craft. "Are you coming?"

My hand moved from the hull to the hatch opening. I caught one last glimpse of our voidhold's familiar corridors before I pulled myself through the hatch.

"How did you know?" he asked as I climbed aboard. "About which ways to go, when to move?"

I thought about telling him then, about the gift he'd unknowingly given me. But something held me back. Not fear exactly, but a sense that some secrets were better kept, at least for now.

"I just observed," I said simply.

His smile was bright in the dim interior of the craft. "You're a natural."