A month had passed since Oren's destruction. It was a grey month. I did my task. I was human-present, touring our voidhold in Magent’s grip. I had gained new scars from PQ9’s bursting head, which Yeller had shot with an energy weapon. There was now a bursting spray of fine marks across my forehead.

Attractive, according to Rashala. No further veiling required.

I watched her, how she grew happy and laughed.

Larkin played his role well. He flattered Mother at every chance, praising her ideas and responding affably to her barbs. She lapped it up. As for Rashala, he attended to her ever-increasing needs with impeccable manners, yet never quite crossing into genuine affection. My sister didn't notice for she was too caught up in her own contentment with her prize, but I saw how his eyes would drift to the viewport during meals, as if searching for something beyond the swirling depths outside.

I watched him because he was trying to escape. His attempts were subtle, wrapped in perfect compliance and courtesy. Perhaps it was my silence that let me observe him more closely, and the way our paths often crossed at unexpected times.

He ran with Ecru. I walked with Magent. While I spoke the words of agreement and consent that kept our voidhold running, I watched him test his protocols. He would pause, sometimes claiming fatigue, although he was barely out of breath. No, he was testing how far the functionary's oversight would bend. Seeing how far behind Ecru would let him go. Sometimes he studied junctions, taking long gazes down the branching corridors. At other times, his glances at the maintenance panels were far too casual.

Each day I noted his failed attempts.

Another morning run that didn't stray from its assigned route.

Another evening trapped in a careful cage of protocol and politeness in the thren.

His pace was too quick around certain corners. His hands lingered too long near access panels. Without Oren to distract my mind, I had become more attentive to these details. Magent expended no effort in engaging me during our walks. It never pointed out interesting things. It showed no inclination to discuss things we saw or small changes in our voidhold. Its mechanical efficiency left me free to observe.

Thus, I watched Larkin crack a little more each day, revealing glimpses of the desperation beneath. Whenever I saw him in a moment of respite from Mother and Rashala, I saw an expression I recognized.

The one on Commander Sentix's frozen face.

Today was the first of the month again. Magent didn’t have access to the White Room’s corridor, so Yeller brought me by itself. I stood in the red-lined square in the White Room as Yeller began the monthly procedure. Commander Sentix stood in last month's pose, his arms outstretched as if sleepwalking. The clouds of Mosogon churned beyond his viewport, casting strange shadows across his still face.

"Commander Zae Sentix," Yeller announced. "You are hereby informed that you have completed month 1,208 of your sentence." Then it manipulated the commander's body into a new position. This month, it was a crouch, as if he had been caught mid-fall. One hand splayed against an invisible floor, while the other reached out into empty space. His head was tilted back. The pose made him look unstable, precarious.

As Yeller moved to the maintenance panel for its monthly check, something caught my eye. The panels showing the status readings, which I had watched for countless cycles, were showing an anomaly: the smallest deviation in their usual steady rhythm. A flicker in a tube like a faltering heartbeat.

An error. A problem with the containment system.

The commander’s mouth twitched. Fear spiked, and my breath caught. I wanted to scream, but I could barely utter a word to Yeller.

Oren would have said something. What?

The words surfaced in my mind and went straight to my tongue.

"Perform a full system verification of the stasis field integrity," I said, the protocol language flowing through me as naturally as breathing.

My heartbeat accelerated as Yeller's eye shifted to yellow. Its head tilted downward with mechanical precision.

"Confirming request," it said. "Full system verification requires multiple functionary oversight."

"I understand." The words felt strange in my mouth. "Proceed."

Yeller's clicks filled the air as it called for assistance. I kept my pose relaxed, my eyes wide and empty, though something was shifting inside me.

The door slid open. Ecru entered, Larkin close behind. He stopped abruptly at the sight of Commander Sentix, horror and fascination on his face as he took in the frozen figure.

"What is this?" he hissed.

"Maintain silence," said Ecru as it went to join Yeller at the panel. "Field integrity check in progress."

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I began backing toward the door to give the functionaries space to work.

“What are you doing?” Larkin asked me.

"Protocol states non-essential personnel must evacuate during system verification," I said. It was just an echo of something Oren would have said, but Yeller's eye pulsed.

"Confirmed,” it said. “Exit and seal."

I stepped through the doorway, and Larkin followed, dumbfounded. My hand hovered over the control panel. Through the narrowing gap, I saw the functionaries, intently focused on their diagnostic sequence, their clicks rising in urgency.

"Sealing complete," I said clearly, and pressed my palm to the panel.

The door slid shut.

I stared at my hand on the control, shocked by what I had just done. I could still undo it. Just press my palm to the panel again, speak the proper words, let the functionaries correct my error...

A muffled crash came from inside the White Room, followed by the distinctive sound of a stasis field powering down. My heart hammered against my ribs as I imagined what was happening behind that sealed door. The functionaries would be focused on the field collapse, their processors overwhelmed by cascading system failures. They would be trying to save the Commander…I should report this. I should find Brons or Redd or Magent. I should—

“Shade!” Larkin said, his voice urgent and his face flushed and wild. Before I could move, his hand locked around my wrist and he yanked me to his side.

"Run," he hissed, pulling me down the corridor.

"No, I didn't mean to—" I tried to pull away, but his grip was like a functionary’s. "The protocols—"

"Are breaking," he finished, increasing his pace. "Come with me. Run!"

My veil caught the air, pressing against my face with each ragged breath. I stumbled, my legs unused to such speed, feet knocking into each other. I tried to match his pace. I had never run before, had never needed to, never been allowed to.

"This way," Larkin said, pulling me into a narrow maintenance shaft, where I collapsed against the wall, trembling violently.

“What’s wrong?” Larkin’s hand was on my back. “Did they hurt you?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I…can’t…” I said between heavy breaths. “This is…too fast.”

“Too fast?” He paused. “I see. Let’s take it a bit slower.” Another pause. “This way.”

He led me through the maintenance shaft at a walk. I followed, even though every fibre of me was screaming to return to Yeller, go back to the White Room, and finish the procedure.

“Does this lead back to the thren?” I asked.

“No.” He looked at me over his shoulder. “Absolutely not.”

“Where are we going?”

“Storage first.”

I followed him, grateful for the slower pace. Having never wandered the voidhold without a functionary, I was completely lost.

“How do you know this is the right way?” I asked.

He tapped his head. “I memorised your voidhold architecture. Wait.” He paused beside a junction, listening intently. “It’s clear. Let’s go. Storage should be just over there.”

The storage hall was little more than a wide corridor, its walls lined with sealed compartments stacked floor to ceiling. The air carried a metallic tang from dormant systems and the dim light flickered.

“Can you access the inventory?” Larkin asked, pointing to the datapad on the wall. “It should be the newest entry.”

I checked. “Yes. Compartment 3-15.”

"Okay. Now," Larkin said, his voice softening as he looked down at me. "I need your help. I need you to open it. You're the only one who can do this, Shade."

I hesitated. "I shouldn't even be here."

"Compartment 3-15," he said, stepping closer. "Personal storage. You know how to open it, don't you? You know all the protocols."

His proximity made my breath catch. "Yeller will punish me," I whispered.

"Like it was doing to that…man in that room just now?" His words were gentle but deliberate. When I didn't respond, he touched my arm. "You've already helped me once, with the manifest. Help me again."

I looked up at him, remembering how he'd smiled at me that first day, how he had looked at my eyes.

"Please, Shade."

My hand trembled as I pressed it to the panel. "Access storage compartment three-fifteen."

The panel slid open. Inside, among the containers, sat the box I had marked as valve components. Larkin sighed and took my hand in his, raising it to his lips. Something moved in my chest, and the storage hall spun as he reached past me to lift the box and put it on the floor.

"What is inside?" I asked, torn between fear and fascination.

"Something that will give us all a chance." His eyes held mine as he worked the hidden catches of the box. "This is why Voidhold Four sent me. Not for Rashala. Not for breeding. For this." His voice dropped lower. "And for someone who could help me find it." He opened the lid, revealing soft cubes of foam. He felt among them, then drew out a small disc. His eyes closed and he gave a long, sighing gasp.

“Do you know what makes your voidhold different from the others?"

I shook my head.

"I didn’t think so.” He chuckled. “You don’t realise how exceptional Voidhold Zero is. Most other voidholds have lost their Stillness, but yours..." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Yours hasn’t.”

“S...stillness?” The word meant nothing to me, but something in how he said it, like a secret, like salvation, made my skin prickle.

His smile grew as he noticed my interest. “Do you want to find it with me, Shade?” he asked.

I thought of Mother and Rashala in the thren. Father with his toys. Magent coming for me. Yeller and Ecru fighting to keep the commander alive and contained.

“Yes.”

✾

Larkin brought me through the voidhold, following whatever his memory told him our my home. We passed sections where dust sat undisturbed in the emergency lighting. Each turn took us through yet more passages untouched by the functionaries' maintenance routines.

"Did you have a Stillness?" I asked. "On Voidhold Four?"

He shrugged. "We lost ours a century ago."

After a moment he asked, "Have you never explored these levels?"

"I only move with permission." The words came automatically.

He glanced back at me, something like pity crossing his face. "Yet here you are. You adventurer, you." He smiled, and I looked down.

Soon the passage narrowed, its architecture shifting to something older, with odd angles and shapes in the wall. Rounded, somehow, as if mould had grown on it, although the surface was clean. At the end of the corridor stood a door. A very strange door, lacking both an access panel and an interface port. Instead, its surface bore machine-unreadable markings that said Human Eyes Only. Beneath that was a round depression.

Larkin's hands shook as he withdrew the disc from his pocket. "The functionaries' sensors can't process this section. The original builders made sure of that." He held the device against the door. The device melded into the door. Deep within the walls, mechanisms awoke. The sound they made was raw and heavy.

The door opened.

"After all this time..." Larkin's voice cracked. He reached for my hand. "Come with me. Look."

I stepped forward into a space left untouched for several lifetimes.