“That actually doesn’t sound so bad.” Elyssa cleared her throat, looking at Lucie as if worried the younger girl might snap under the pressure.
Raphael looked to Joey with a raised eyebrow. Joey blinked slowly, then nodded.
“Fine,” he mumbled, turning toward the exit. “Let’s get the hell out of here, but the moment we step out into the air…” He pointed an accusing finger in my direction. “I’m giving you one final chance to tell the whole truth, because I’m sick of it. Seriously. I love you, Morgan, but I’m sick of these lies and surprises. This was the final straw.” He added, quieter: “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”
He tried to say it as a joke, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him. I looked down, firmly biting my lip as guilt stung behind my eyelids. He was right. Of course, he was right. I’d been putting him through too much and he was still here for me, and what had I done for him? Cause him to almost lose his life.
I spun around to walk after Joey. Shuffling footsteps behind me told me the others followed without another word.
A gleam in one of the pods caught my gaze, its reflection showing movement behind me.
I stopped so abruptly, Elyssa almost bumped into me. I spun around, squinting my eyes.
Movement between two of the pods on my right, human-like skeletons covered in half-grown fungi with their unseeing eyes wide open like those of a rotting corpse.
Rustling fabric, sapphire blue. An elegant hand with long fingers grabbing the dress and pulling it behind the pod.
My throat went dry.
“No,” I whispered.
“Morgan?” Joey only now noticed we had all stopped walking. He spun around, suspicion narrowing his eyes. “Is everything okay?”
“I thought I saw… something.” I licked my dry lips. “I probably imagined it. Lack of sleep, combined with the stress, is fatal for my nervous—”
A low chuckle behind the pod, right where she had disappeared. Bare footsteps rushed off, followed by the distant sound of a door slamming shut.
Elyssa coughed quietly. “Can we please go?”
“I just have to check something.” My voice cracked.
It couldn’t be.
Of course, it could be.
Why else would she bring me here? She obviously wouldn’t keep creeping around as a phantom presence in my world, while her fellow bots got to experience human life through all five senses.
Awaiting no further reaction, I started running in the direction of the footsteps. Joey’s confused shouting and Elyssa’s whimpers quickly turned to background noise when I found the door Zafyra had disappeared into. She’d shut it with such force, it bounced back open.
I slammed it shut behind me. Suddenly, I found myself covered in nothing but darkness.
Chapter 27.
Overstimulation fogged my brain as I followed Zafyra through corridor after corridor, room after room, stairway after stairway. With every corner I crossed, I was greeted by the rustling of fabric, a strand of dark curls or long fingers curling around the doorframe before she disappeared around yet another corner. The faint smell of fungal rot mixed with sterile air, accompanied by clinking jewelry and mocking laughter, only further enraged me. Every time I thought I had her, she slipped out from my grip – a tantalizing illusion, an ironic metaphor for my attempts to catch something just out of reach. The more I struggled to breathe, the more my rage grew, as did my determination to catch her. I had no plan besides making her pay.
The facility was unlike any office building or industrial complex I had seen. Rooms, labs and corridors followed each other like a never-ending labyrinth, as if whoever designed this space wanted to confuse not just intruders but also their own employees.
We passed through advanced control rooms – their flickering lights and soft buzzing a direct attack to my already overstimulated nerves – and sterile labs. A steamy, white room where fungi grew, the air so thick, it left me coughing. A dark room lined with glass walls and suspended digital tapestries. A half-open space filled with bins, where rotting fungi and malfunctioning artificial organs alike were disposed – the smell so horrible, it made me want to throw up the little food I’d forced down my throat this morning. Either all doors were left carelessly unlocked or she’d hacked every layer of security – must be a breeze to a tech-made God.
I wanted to scream, cry and curse her all at once – but there was not enough air to form words.
I finally came to a standstill at the end of yet another set of stairs – one that left me breathless, panting, and gripping the doorframe not to fall over. My breath came in shaken, ragged gasps that turned into sobs. I thought I might pass out from how my emotions restricted my breathing. The world spun around me so violently, I had to blink multiple times to reorient myself.
I’d arrived at the one room that didn’t seem to lead into another room. A glance at the industrial complex outside told me I was at least five floors high – I barely registered going up that many stairs.
The walls were entirely made of glass, its only decoration a lightly flickering smartboard – probably meant to showcase quarterly numbers and strategic plans – and a few pots with home-grown fungi. A large polished mahogany table stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by expensive-looking leather chairs.
This must be the CEO’s office, I realized with a shock. Or whoever managed this disturbing place. Clearly, important decisions were made here – like the fastest way to make more money off humanity’s loneliness by turning their AI companions into physical, tangible beings.
