The lights came back on, but this time they warmed into brightness and the transition didn’t physically hurt. I still had to squint a bit, but that was a huge relief. I said.

Ezzie said.

I looked back, my cheeks souring as I took in the room I’d just exited.

Ezzie said.

The whole floor was covered in blood, and little lumps of what could only be flesh clung to the walls. And the blades were ripsaws, spinning so fast and so silently that their motion was strangely hypnotic as they blurred through the room.

It seemed impossible, that I’d managed to navigate the steel labyrinth that lay behind me. I looked down. I was covered in blood. Because of course I was. All of that jumping and sliding around on the floor.

I gagged, the scent of copper filling my nose. I said.

Ezzie said, as the Constructor went to work.

I shivered. It took the Constructor the better part of two minutes to deprint and reprint all of my armor, but everything was squeaky clean when it came back out. I found another staircase leading up, and up, and up, rising high above me in a spiral pattern that was geometrically perfect.

Ezzie said.

I snorted a laugh.

Twenty minutes later, Ezzie said:

I said. I said, just as the center of the stairway above opened up and flattened out.

More laughter, then: four voices that were painfully familiar. It was almost like…

I reached the end of the stairwell—and the top of the tower—which was enclosed entirely in glass. The too-bright world shone all around me, a scene that mirrored itself endlessly, that went on as far as you cared to look.

And in the very center of the room stood an easel, with a mirror in place of a painting.

Ezzie said.

Ezzie said.

I said. As I stepped up to the mirror, peals of laughter echoed from all around. I gazed around the room; I was pretty sure the laughter was coming from the upper corners, as crazy as that seemed.

Now that she’d mentioned it, the voices were a little high, but they still sounded familiar.

I stared into the mirror and my body hit the floor, crumpling as if I’d just stepped out of my skin.

Trees all around. Leaves crunching underfoot, the clean, sharp scent of ozone mingling with the ever-present smog.

I was back in the wild, crouched behind a group of kids. Sam, Milly, Farah and…myself?

Ezzie said.

My mouth was dry, my skin was crawling.

Ezzie said.

I shrugged, swallowed.

Ezzie said, in a quiet voice.

I shook my head.

The kids in front of me—myself included, kind of—were playing rock paper scissors.

Ezzie said.

I said,

Sam—tall, with a shock of dark hair—won the first round and bowed out. Farah won the second and took a step back. Sam put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him. Then it was just Milly and I, throwing again and again.

I said.

Ezzie said.

I clenched my hands into fists at my sides.

The old version of me lost the game but grinned around as if he’d won. Then he slipped between a pair of trees and he was gone, running low through the dark forest.

Which was weird, because I’d expected that I’d follow my copy into the pharmacy. Because if the network was drawing from my memories to recreate this little scene, how would it know what happened here once I was gone?

“C’mere,” Sam said, as he beckoned Milly closer. He nodded at Farah, and the three of them stepped around a tree where I wouldn’t have been able to see them even if I’d looked back.

“He’s gone,” Farah said. “Finally.”

“Listen,” Sam said to Milly. “We like you, and we wanna keep you around. You want that too, right?”

Milly nodded.

“Good,” Sam said. “Well, it isn’t gonna come to this, not today. We’ve already picked this place near to the bone and we’ve never even seen an android within a couple miles of here. But from this day forward, if we gotta lose one of us, it’s Silas.”

Milly frowed. “But how—”

“I’ll handle it,” Sam says. “But if the time comes—when the time comes—just keep running. That’s all you gotta do. Okay? Just keep running.”

Milly’s eyes went all watery. “But why?”

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. Their interactions were just so real, so fluid. So authentic. Maybe this really was how it happened. Something weighty settled onto my shoulders.

Farah shrugged. “Silas is dead weight. Has been for a while. Doesn’t have it in him to do the things that need to be done.”

The words hit me like a gut punch. But now that those words were out, I could recognize her animosity, see the way her sarcasm had always cut just a little too deep.

But I never once thought she hated me. The revelation shook me to my core. How could I have been so very, very wrong?

“Farah,” Sam said, snapping at her in the exact way he’d snapped at her a thousand times before.

“You know it’s true,” Farah said. “That’s why we’re having this conversation. This was your idea. And we both know you’ve wanted to get rid of him for just as long as I have.”

I said into the link. I hadn’t even meant to speak to Ezzie, but I was so frazzled I hadn’t managed to guard my thoughts.

Sam had been like an older brother to me. He’d taught me everything I knew about scavenging, about surviving. Could he have really wanted me gone the whole time?

Well, he’d gotten rid of me in the end, hadn’t he? For someone he’d known for a week. That was all I really needed to know.

Ezzie said.

My chest hurt. My throat hurt. And for the first time since being shoved into that cage at the pet shop, I almost felt like giving up. I said.

“It’s not just about Silas being crappy, it’s about you, Milly,” Sam said. “We’ve never had somebody who could identify mushrooms. That’s a game changer. Those things are everywhere here, but the damn things have always been too toxic for us to chance.”

That sounded like Sam. That sounded so very, very much like Sam.

Milly swallowed. “I won’t let you down.>

“Droid!” my copy said, as I bolted back through the woods, smashing low-hanging branches and half-tripping every few steps, exactly as I had before. “One droid on foot!”

Sam and Farah shared a glance, then Farah grabbed Milly by her arm and took off, practically dragging her deeper into the forest.

Sam knelt and picked up a thick tree branch. He stepped out from behind the trunk, standing sideways so that my copy wouldn’t be able to see the makeshift weapon dangling from his hand. He waved, urging me on, and my copy changed direction, making a beeline straight for him.

My copy looked back over his shoulder, eying the pursing android who moved with supernatural speed, paying no regard for the tree limbs that stood in his way, the forest crackling behind him, clumps of soil and grass flying in his wake.

Sam took the opportunity to draw his weapon and step into a swing.

The very moment my copy turned around, the branch caught him on the bridge of his nose. The impact knocked him clear off his feet and he hit the ground hard, breathing but unconscious.

Sam tossed the branch and ran without so much of a backward glance. He’d smiled there, though. At the very end.

Everything flashed again, going much too bright.