Time is relative.

You hear that one often, and of course Einstein proved it centuries ago, but it’s something we rarely think about until it smacks us across the face. Like now.

We were stuck inside a box with no access to the outside world, and no idea what lay in store for us. I clung to the notion the Chell could have just as easily killed us if that were their intent, that the fact we were still alive had to be a good sign. That’s what I kept telling myself, at least.

But if idle hands are the Devil’s playground, an idle mind can be even more dangerous. As the minutes tick by, you imagine a thousand gruesome fates befalling you, each one worse than the last. It could drive you mad if you let it, so I took steps to mitigate the threat. I had options… for example, I could have conjured up plenty of distractions to pass the time, but I’d already mined that option pretty thoroughly during the trip. With everything Raven and I had experienced already, I’d be hard-pressed to come up with something novel enough to take our minds from the danger at hand.

So instead, I slowed things down to a crawl.

I can experience time several ways here in my digital world. If I choose to, I can operate at the lightning speed of a computer, living an entire lifetime in between the heartbeats of a corporeal being. We rarely do that, however, except in emergencies, as it makes interacting with others all but impossible. Or I could go the other way, minimizing the passage of time, so that an hour outside was only a second in here. It was as simple as adjusting my internal clock rate, and it made the anxious wait much more bearable.

“So now what?” Raven asked. “We just sit here and twiddle our thumbs?”

I’d moved us from the ship’s bridge, since it was a safe bet there was no more ship, back to our Luna hotel. “There’s not a lot we can do,” I reminded her as I sat down on the couch. “We’re stuck in a box until they decide otherwise.”

“Then tell me, genius,” she said sarcastically, “what’s the plan? You have a plan, don’t you?”

“I’m… working on it,” I told her, thinking frantically to actually come up with one.

Her eyes narrowed as she peered closely at me, and then groaned. “You’ve got nothing, do you?”

“Not so much,” I admitted. “At the moment they’re holding all the cards.”

“Wonderful,” she sighed. “At least tell me if we’re planning on talking our way out of this, or fighting our way out?”

“Fight how?” I countered, “and with what? Unless I can gain access to a network, my hands are tied, and I guarantee you the Chell won’t let me anywhere near one of their computers.”

“That’s it then? You’re just giving up?” Raven sneered at me, throwing back the rest of her drink. “I thought you were supposed to be the best of the best.”

“I am not giving up,” I countered, “but I need to pick my moment. This isn’t it. Until that moment arrives, we survive by talking as fast as we can and hoping they listen.”

Raven started to reply, but as she did, the video monitor came to life. An unsuited Chell stared at us both, peering almost nearsightedly as he took in the tableau, before finally zeroing in on me. “Who are you?” he demanded.

I motioned to Raven to remain silent as I stepped in front of the display, unfurling my wings. “Alphad Aemon, of the Terran Avatar Clan,” I informed him. “And you are?”

“You may refer to me as ‘Elder Brother’, for now,” he answered. “We have not survived as long as we have by giving away information.”

“Fair enough,” I shrugged. No sense feeding their paranoia if I could help it. “I am curious just how you have survived, after all this time.”

“We call ourselves the Brotherhood of Shadows for a reason, Terran,” he snapped. “We will not provide you with information about us, not until you have proved your loyalty.”

“And how am I to do that, exactly?” I countered. “At the moment, my options are limited.”

“We will come to that,” the Chell answered. “You accuse us of murdering your kind. Why do you claim this?” It was hard reading his expression, especially through the fur, but I was immediately on guard. That he was asking about that right out of the gate could mean several things, few of them good. Part of me wanted to deflect and deny, but somehow, I doubted that would fly, especially considering I was the one who’d accused them.

That only left me a single option, and it was dangerous.

“Forty years ago, my people sent a ship to our ancient homeworld on a mission,” I informed him, though I was certain he was already well aware of the Katabasis. “The mission ended in tragedy, with many left dead. Twenty years later the survivors began dying, one after another, each of them in ways that appeared to be either accidents or natural causes.” Now it was my turn to scrutinize him. “Only they weren’t accidents, were they?”

Elder Brother leaned back thoughtfully. “And why would the Brotherhood do such a thing?” he asked.

Raven shot me a look. If I was right, then telling him what I suspected was harmless, except possibly to ourselves. Assuming they already knew about New Terra, then the only risk would be for them to see us both as an unwelcome loose end. If I was wrong, however, then I was handing them a prize beyond imagining. I was certain I wasn’t wrong, but there was still a chance, no matter how slim.

I’d come this far trusting my gut. Now was not the time to question it.

I took a deep breath. “Because you want the Precursor homeworld for yourself.”

A satisfied expression came over the Chell’s face. “So. You know of it.”

“I do,” I nodded, breathing a small inward sigh of relief, “as do others.” Hopefully, that would give him pause if he was contemplating anything untoward. Never underestimate the power of a good insurance policy.

“You Terrans have designs on it as well,” he probed. Fine, then. If he wanted to play the game out, I was willing to oblige him.

“If we didn’t before, we certainly do now,” I said with a satisfied smile. “In fact, we owe you no small debt of gratitude. Had you not started murdering the survivors in cold blood, we might never have gone back for a second look.” Ha! Let him chew on that.

The Chell carefully preened its hamster-like face. “You waste your time, Terran. The prize you seek is already within our grasp.”

“I doubt that” I retorted. “If that were true, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. You may know of the planet, but that’s all you know.” I leaned back in my chair, a beatific smile on my face. “However, that is not all that I know.” Raven was now staring daggers as I blithely ignored her, knowing full well why she was angry.

It wasn’t enough that I’d betrayed my clan. I was now precariously close to betraying my species. But I had no choice, not if I were ever to gain their trust. I had to dangle that bait in front of them, keeping it just out of arm’s reach… and pray they didn’t put a virtual bullet in my head like I’d done Raven and take the secret from me.

I can’t help but wonder how many traitors and renegades throughout history told themselves they didn’t have a choice, either. Probably more than I’d care to hear about.

Whatever I’d just done, whether it be treason or carefully calculated risk, I’d gotten his attention. He leaned forward once more, his beady black eyes glaring at me. “Tell me what you know, Terran,” he snarled, “or I will destroy the cage that holds you.”

“No, you won’t,” I sneered. “If that were your intention, you’d have already done it. You think you can threaten me? Go right ahead,” I dared him, spreading my arms wide. “Take your best shot, because we both know all you can do is end my existence. If that’s what you want, then I can’t stop you.” I paused for a moment, mostly for dramatic effect. “Or we could pool our resources and work together to find the treasure we both seek.”

Elder Brother growled at me. “We have not survived this long by trusting outsiders,” he rumbled. “Tell me what you know, or I will end you.”

“Then you will never know,” I fired back, crossing my arms and daring him to try.

His eyes narrowed, his limbs trembling in barely controlled fury. “Then perhaps a thousand years in isolation will loosen your tongue,” he all but shouted, reaching out and touching something just out of view as the screen went dark.

Raven, who up til now had barely managed to contain herself, made up for her previous restraint. “What the hell are you thinking?” she howled. “You’re just going to give New Terra away? To them?” She raised her fist, preparing to punctuate her argument by punctuating my face.

I held up my hands. “I’m not giving anything away, I swear,” I promised her. “I just need him to think I might. Anything to keep things moving forward.”

Her fists went to her hips as she glared at me. “I’d find that a lot easier to believe if you hadn’t sold out your clan to the Oivu. You know that eventually someone will use that information to come after your people, and then what?”

… Yeah... maybe I shouldn’t have told her about that.

“Raven, listen to me,” I desperately explained, “I’m playing for high stakes here, maybe the highest stakes there are. I can’t do it by half measures, and I won’t lie, there’s a great deal of risk involved. If we can just get the Troika off our backs, then maybe we have a chance. And if worse comes to worst…” I shrugged helplessly, “then sharing the planet with the Brotherhood isn’t such a terrible thing. There’s more than enough room for both of us.”

“You don’t know that!” she screamed. “You’ve never even seen it!”

I reached out and grabbed her arms. “Half a planet is better than nothing,” I exclaimed, “which is what we currently have. We can build from that half, leverage it into something far greater… but we can’t do that from where we sit now.”

“And when humanity and the Brotherhood have filled that world?” she countered. “When you stand at the brink of war, fighting for resources, what happens to your precious New Terra then?”

I sighed, releasing her arms, before wandering over to the bar and grabbing a drink bulb. “That’s a century away at least, probably more,” I told her. “I’m just trying to get through today.” Suddenly I was exhausted; juggling fireballs on a tightrope will do that to you. “It’s not a perfect solution,” I admitted, “just the best I can come up with.”

She was still angry, but I could tell I was getting through. “If this goes bad…” she warned.

“Then we’re screwed,” I agreed. “But the thing is, we were screwed anyway. All this means is the end comes a little quicker.”

Finally, she relented. “There’s nothing else you can do?” she asked.

“If there was, I’d be doing it,” I answered. “This is what we have.”

Raven nodded reluctantly and then gave me an odd look. “What did he mean by ‘a thousand years in isolation’?” she said curiously.

“Ah…” I nodded, carrying my drink back to the couch and sitting down, retrieving my tablet as I confirmed my suspicions. “Yeah… it seems our new friend Eldest Brother has manually increased our cage’s clock rate by a few thousand percent,” I explained. “He’s hoping that if we stay in here long enough, we’ll go crazy.”

“You mean he wasn’t kidding?” she goggled. “I mean, is that possible?”

“No, he wasn’t kidding,” I corroborated, “and yes, it’s possible. We’ve documented several cases of it, back when the Clan was just starting out. It’s a form of sensory deprivation… do it long enough, and the virtual mind snaps.”

“And he’s doing that to us?” she said in horror. “Please tell me you have a plan.”

“I have a plan,” I smiled. “This is my domain, remember?”

“Uh-huh… I’d feel a lot better if you hadn’t said the same thing right before shooting me,” she said dryly.

I mean, what do you say to that?

“It’s simple,” I told her, sidestepping the issue for now. “Basically, I’ll create a virtual box inside the box, and reset the clock speed. To our Chell friends, it’ll still read the same, but inside where we are, I’ll set it to a more leisurely pace. We’ll be fine.”

She ran that one through her mind, and then asked, “And when he checks back in on us, and we’re not crazy? What then?”

“Pfft,” I snorted, “let him figure it out for himself. Not our problem.” At least, that’s what I suspected. I wouldn’t know for sure until we spoke again.

“I hope you’re right,” she told me, still not entirely convinced. “So what do we do in the meantime?”

“Whatever you want,” I shrugged, “but I’m going to bed.” I trundled off and collapsed onto the mattress.

It was a few days later when Eldest Brother finally checked back in.

Just as before, he used the entertainment system for his interface, speaking to me from the monitor. “So,” he chortled, “feel like talking now?”

“... not especially,” I yawned. It wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped for. He might be quite formidable in the corporeal world, but here in the digital universe? Nothing but a chump.

There was much snarling and gnashing of teeth, but none of it fazed me. I know a threat display when I see one. I simply waited until he tired himself out.

“If you’re quite finished,” I said after the worst had passed, “maybe we could have a frank discussion about our future.” That set off another round of him tearing up the furniture, but he recovered in short order.

“... You wish to talk?” he said at last. “Then there is something I want first.”

Finally. We were actually negotiating. “And what is that?”

“Something you are well suited for,” he answered. “We have received word the Eleexx are working on a new project, one that could have a profound impact on the Brotherhood. Retrieve their data, and then we will speak.”

I winced. “Sure,” I said hoarsely, “piece of cake.”