The room gradually materialized around him, and his heart sank as the gray walls appeared, boxing him in. The same dull view as endless gray days before, stretching to what seemed like months. He began to get up to check the calendar for the date (why does it even matter? part of him asked), but sharp pain shot through his back, and he cried out before he could stifle it. He sat back against the wall, gasping for breath as the surging spasms subsided. The matless pallet beneath him was a glaring enemy. He didn't know how he could spend another night on it.

That's probably the point… he thought.

She thinks I'd give in just for a bit of comfort? Ha!

Still… the thought of a soft bed beneath him was a seductive dream….

More aches awakened across his body. His throat felt raw. The welts across his chest burned as if fire had raked across his skin. And his knee and ankle throbbed violently.

There's something I can do about that…. I just have to move somehow…

Slowly, he moved to the edge of the bed and slid his legs over the side. Just lowering his legs shot shards of broken glass through his back. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

It shouldn't be this bad…. Not from just a few nights…

But, he realized, it had probably irritated old injuries. It would have been fine without that ridge in the center of the bunk; he'd tried to curl up to avoid it, but it was almost impossible. And a bed that didn't give in any way could hardly be called a bed… was there any sort of solution… if he could get ahold of some clothes and bundle them up… but he didn't even have a sheet anymore. At least the cell seemed less cold than it had been.

Perhaps the bench or the floor would be better…

Bracing himself, he pushed himself to his feet and bit back a cry. His back spasming uncontrollably, he shuffled across the cell to the dresser and opened the top drawer. He poured several pills in his mouth—not even sure how many—and turned on the sink, hoping against hope they'd turned the water back on.

Blessed cold liquid streamed into his mouth and he gulped it eagerly, not minding the excess spilling over his chin and streaming down his neck. That felt good, actually. It soothed the burning; he welcomed the temporary numbness across his wounds.

After a few minutes, the painkillers kicked in. He didn't know what he'd do without them. Desperately hoped they would never be taken.

A pleasant haze settled over him; a dim alarm ran through him that perhaps he'd taken too many. What's the overdose? Five… I think it was only three…

It was enough to envelop him into a wonderful cocoon that blocked out any unpleasant feelings. He sat back on the bench and drifted into a vague dreamworld.

As it began to fade and consciousness crept back into him, a disturbing feeling carved deep into him. At first he didn't know what its origin was.

Then it flashed over him like a heatwave.

He shivered as if seized by a sudden fever.

Phantom fingers trickled over his skin, tracing it gently… gliding over more of his skin, meeting the other areas where it traced, gradually claiming it…

No.

I'm not hers.

But the ghostly image of Elena was still imprinted on his mind and insisted on staying. As if she was gradually possessing him, piece by piece….

I should be immune to this. I've never been attracted to Elena—I abhor all she stands for. Connie should be enough of a remedy.

She is.

But I can't erase the kisses, even if I can ignore the fact I…. almost gave in to them….

How many of her kisses has it been?

He couldn't remember.

His heart plummeted when he recalled he'd given her the first kiss willingly, when they'd been on the run, when Elena had been gleaning info from him. She'd been in disguise then, of course, and it was long ago. Still—he couldn't forgive himself for the fact he'd kissed someone who went against everything he stood for. The naïve boy he'd been back then still had no excuse.

Then— the unwilling kiss in the dungeon.

Many long years between.

The first few kisses she'd wrenched from him— He'd tried to block those from his mind. That was one reason he couldn't remember. Didn't want to.

He still wanted to know how many, so he could know how many he needed to rub away the traces of….

It wasn't as if he could ever get rid of them…. They were branded deeply now, along with the many touches she'd given him.

Did that mean she owned the places she'd touched?

No. She didn't own him if he didn't consent to be owned.

But still… he couldn't rip her from his mind.

His mind had begun to betray him as well as his body…

Gradually her touches would subsume him and there would be nothing left….

You can't destroy a soul like that.

Can you?

She was already getting to him against his will… if it kept on like this, how much of himself would he lose?

I won't give her the chance.

I have to escape.

Can't let these things divert me. Focus no matter what kind of pain I'm in, no matter how she tries to manipulate me.

I'm not giving her any more of me without making her pay for every inch.

If only I could block myself off from her….

Even if I could— would it be a good idea? If I want to escape, she is the all-access pass. She can order all personnel; she can turn any system on or off; she can open any door and get to any restricted area. It would be foolish to cut off that resource. If only I could hack her… without her interference or knowledge. Is there a way I could do this?

Without compromising myself—more than I already have. There has to be this razor's balance… I want to be able to survive without her resorting to methods that dissect me. She doesn't want to damage me… but if she lost patience would she… go to extremes…? He didn't want to imagine what those extremes could be.

Resist, while playing the game…. Play her game while not surrendering to all of its rules…

If only I could be sure that meant not letting her touch me again.

Drugging her is probably the best bet. She won't expect it. Well… she might—but she might think I wouldn't be able to do that without her notice.

Get her compromised… Would she even let that happen?

If she knew she had drugs in her system, she probably wouldn't risk transmitting them to the baby. She seems to value him enough she wouldn't do that. It would drain out of her system after a day or so; even if she was still nursing him, she would probably stop temporarily, so I won't have to worry about harming him.

I might have to slip her more zyx if she resists becoming incapacitated to the point I can interrogate her. Get her drugged to the point she might not notice….

The problem is, the monitors will pick up anything I say.

Perhaps I need to do a more subtle interrogation… direct her toward topics I want, and she won't notice because she'll think I have no chance of escape—or even if she knows, she'll humor me and think it's futile… she might not give up much, but she might accidentally give up something vital…

I have to be extra careful with Elena, but she may have blind spots… Discover her weaknesses.

One of those is pride. Arrogance and assumption of her invulnerability.

And there's her vulnerability. She apparently is still in pain sometimes. She might let her guard down in some way. I just have to be constantly vigilant and not caught off-guard all the time by the brutality here. And the constant attempts at manipulation. I've got to be used to it by now….

It's easier said than done.

At every turn, unexpected obstacles appeared.

Like last night—the torture instrument from the wall had shocked him. So perhaps he couldn't even hold an unauthorized weapon. Perhaps he could make an unauthorized one. File one of the loose rocks down, for instance… like Kiran's writing rock…

They might find it, but that's the risk I have to take.

Perhaps make it later so I don't risk it being found before I can gather the info I need. A weapon is one of the last pieces, really.

I did learn some valuable information last night… through the process of elimination…. I have to turn every negative into a positive.

I should try to access information from other sources as well. It risks a lot to get intel from Elena; others might give me more.

Someone else I could compromise…

Ali is the most sympathetic of the enemy. But he's also vigilant, even through his bias. His allegiance is unquestionably to Yavesh. There is also the gray area he's willing to move in… could I get more from him than a few gifts, even after the warning he got…

How far would he go for me? How unconditional is his love?

There's also Tamara, who has shown herself to be somewhat sympathetic. Unless that's all part of the manipulation. She's too high up to risk my being too obvious about my need for help. And she loves Elena too much to ever betray her willingly. If she became suspicious, she'd immediately end communication. But perhaps I can draw some info from her…

Was there anyone else he could ply information from? Perhaps more of his enemies… like the reverse interrogation of Daric he'd have to be more proactive with. Perhaps from more hostile people… that would be trickier.

There was this new player, Dalkov. Could he possibly be a ticket to the Outside? How attached to Yavesh was he? He was a dark horse at this point… Jason could test him subtly…

First, he had to get more of a handle on his plan. He'd have to play a lot of it by ear. But he did have to get his priorities in order and a general idea of the plan's shape. Keep the outline of it in his head, get it clear as he could.

His life depended on it.

And perhaps his soul.

He knew the security of his soul wasn't really in question… but this was the kind of place that was designed to strip your humanity from you.

His back feeling better, he paced the room. Gradually he carved out a rudimentary plan based on the sketches he'd made earlier.

One of his first priorities was to find out how to neutralize the monitor. Ali had done it before. Could he do it again? He'd have to find the right time to activate that part of the plan. A lot of things would have to happen in quick succession.

So—now was information-gathering time. As much as he wished he could just cut through his enemies… he still needed intel. The most important of which was the escape route. He didn't even know the location of this place. High up, with a waterfall and a cave… Near Valhad, Elliot had said…

Both underground and high up. In the mountains somewhere.

A massive tunnel system, a lot of it artificial, though some natural.

One tunnel had led to a trap, but could there be more that led out? Part of his mind had shut this down because of the trauma of his recapture. But it was an important possibility.

And if he could get as much info as possible about the layout of this place, preferably see it for himself, that would be great…

It would take some time to find all this out. Hopefully before anything else especially horrific happened. He couldn't count on avoiding awful things completely here.

Like the screams from the interrogation room when he stepped out into the hallway.

Serhii's screams.

It shattered his heart every time he heard someone in pain and he couldn't do anything about it.

They couldn't damage him too much, but they could hurt people he cared about.

That was another insidious danger he didn't know how to defend against. What if they gave him an ultimatum—give in, or they'd hurt someone else?

He couldn't face that possibility. He turned down the hallway, trying to shut out the screams.

He paced in the main room, limping footsteps reverberating against the walls.

The screams still reached him.

What could they be doing to him!

Serhii didn't scream unless it was so awful he couldn't suppress them… he always tried to hold back his pain….

Jason sank to his knees in the shaft of light, which glittered with sparkles of dust. He reached into the swirling glimmer, interrupting it with the shadowy silhouette of his hand…. Sunlight refracted, splashing in broken streams across the floor….

He pressed his forehead to the cement. It was cold and blocked out all light.

Dear God—please make it stop.

He was frozen, just the throbbing in his ankle reminding him he was alive

The squeal of a door

A body dragged out…

Yanking himself out of paralysis, he raced over to Serhii's cell.

Thankfully they didn't shut the door and lock it like they had been lately. Jason stepped inside as the smirking guards skimmed past like nefarious shadows.

A broken body lay there. Flashes of the aftermath of Zar's party superimposed on the current images.

At second glance, there was a lot less damage than there had been after Zar's party….

But somehow, Serhii seemed more broken, even as he stirred and looked up at Jason, golden hair tangled over his forehead.

Sheer terror slashed through his eyes before recognition filled them.

There was a vibrant slash across his chest, the most glaring injury. A smaller one, at the same angle, across his cheek. Blood matted his hair. His lip was swollen; new bruises showed on his face and chest.

As bad as it was, it didn't seem an unusual amount of torture— not enough to tear such screams from him. Or perhaps this was all building up inside him and he couldn't bear any more of it….

Jason knelt beside him, not wanting to get into his space if it would alarm him but wanting to help. "What can I do?" he asked.

"I… I'm not sure…" He tried to get up but winced and lay back down, gasping.

"I'll get you some painkiller."

Jason ran back to his room and grabbed the painkiller bottle and the restorative. There were enough painkillers gone now that he could pour the restorative in the same bottle. He did so, then filled the empty restorative bottle with some water. Then he rushed back to Serhii's cell.

Serhii was sitting awkwardly against the bunk, one hand pressed to his stomach. Fathomless anguish showed in his eyes, only partially glazed over by hope.

Jason knelt beside him. "Here." He spilled two painkillers and a restorative into his palm.

Serhii held out his left hand. Come to think of it, his right hand had something wrong with it….

Jason gave him the pills and he drank them down desperately. Then he closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the bunk.

One of the fingers on his hand looked bent at an unnatural angle. And—several of his fingernails were missing.

Jason's stomach flipped over. So that's what they had been doing to him….

"We should get you to Med. You've got to get that finger set."

Serhii nodded.

Jason took the pager from his pocket and pressed the button. It struck him how strange his only means of distance communication was a technology he hadn't used since the 90s. Now it was a precious lifeline.

There was no immediate response to let him know he'd been heard. He wondered if Brianna was still his liaison, or if they'd shifted to Sahara by now. He hoped it was Sahara—hoped that Elena would honor this…deal.

"I wish I had something to bind your wounds," said Jason.

"I've had worse."

"I can get you up on the bed, if you want."

Serhii nodded.

Jason grasped his uninjured hand and wrapped his arm around his back, then lifted. Despite the painkiller that was probably kicking in, Serhii cried out. Jason quickly laid him down onto the mattress—hit with a fleeting twist of jealousy that Serhii had a mattress. But he couldn't really be jealous—or begrudge him the small bit of comfort he had access to.

As Serhii settled down onto the bed, Jason sat on the chair near the table a few feet away. Serhii closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

Jason stood to leave, not wanting to bother him.

"Please—stay," said Serhii.

"Not like I have anything better to do."

A faint laugh, then a cough.

"It still hurts? I can get you another—"

"No… I just…. Well. I can't complain. Got to keep the focus on me, even if it means…" Anguish filled his eyes.

"I wish they'd focus on me instead."

"That's…probably their game…. They know this hurts you."

"I should pretend it…doesn't bother me. But they'd know that was an act, even if I could make myself do it. If only they'd just… see your potential as an agent and train you."

"Well…. They have to Break me first. I'm not totally sure of their timeline…. I… offered myself, you know."

"What?"

"For Tim and Vanya. But they totally denied that possibility. For one thing, Daric said—"

"Daric did this to you?"

"Raul. Daric said that I scare Zar too much—" He laughed softly. "And he forfeited his right to me. Just learning that is… almost worth… what happened. Besides, I'd be too dangerous to let Outside—they're right about that. And I'm 'too valuable' here. So they probably still want to turn me into an agent… It'll take a lot to turn me, though— They'd have to—" An involuntary shudder ran through him. "I'll resist till my last breath… but if they keep this up…. There might not be much of me left."

The tinge of despair in his voice startled Jason. If Serhii could lose some of his relentless optimism, what hope did Jason have?

"You'll be okay. We'll… figure something out."

Serhii caught Jason's eyes. Jason nodded, the barest movement.

Jason veered away from the darkness and spoke of brighter things—of his agent days, which sent sharp nostalgic longing through him. So bright and vibrant the past was—as if he could reach out and touch it. Smell the crisp air of a morning in Switzerland… standing on a balcony as he was about to hike up into the mountains for a recon mission… He swept Serhii into the story and it was wonderful to see that he was carried away on the journey too….

Perhaps this is a way to survive here—something to keep us going. The past so vivid against these gray walls, as if they'd disappear with a sudden gust of wind….

A knock on the door.

His heart slammed hard against his chest. He slowly turned, his hand braced on the table, gathering the energy to fight or run.

"Hello?" said a tentative voice. "It's me." The familiarity of the voice surged warmth through him. Sahara!

"We're here," said Jason. He stood, trembling with excitement to see his friend after all this time.

The door creaked open. Sahara slipped in. She looked slightly thinner, but otherwise healthy. No bruises marring her beautiful dark skin. Her hair had grown out a little but wasn't dyed. The marks of being enslaved had faded.

"Hey," said Jason.

She gave a little wave. Then she walked slowly toward him. Her eyes taking him in as if she were fully realizing he was standing in front of her. "Jason!" She smiled, which dispelled some of the haunted weariness from her face. She flung out her arms and Jason walked toward her and enveloped her in an embrace. Her soft cheek against his. He realized his unshaven face was probably less pleasant, but she didn't pull away—only pressed him closer. Kissed his cheek. Then searched his eyes as if wondering if that was okay. He smiled, letting her know her touch didn't hurt him in the least.

She stepped back a little and took him in, her hands gently on his shoulders. "Are you okay?" she said in her soft southern accent. "Oh…" Her gaze swept over the wounds on his chest.

"It's not too bad, considering. It's Serhii that needs help."

She swept over to him and knelt beside his bed, clutched his good hand. Stroked back his hair. "What've they been doing to you…"

"Nothing… they haven't already done."

It hit Jason that there might be more hidden injuries. Worse than what he'd seen so far.

Sahara swore under her breath. "Let's get you out of here."

She and Jason helped him up. Slowly they made their way through the empty Intake area to the elevator. Serhii limped, unable to hide it. It made Jason feel like the elevator were falling instead of rising.

Eventually they made it to Med. To Jason's relief, Doctor Miller quickly accepted Serhii for examination and he and Sahara sat in the waiting room.

"Thank you, Jason," said Sahara.

Jason was perplexed about what she meant at first. But the immense gratitude in her eyes told him all he wanted to know.

"I—couldn't do anything else," he said. "I had to ask for your freedom."

She gave him a sad, searching gaze. Then she said, looking into a vague distance, "I did almost feel free even before…. I mean, it's all relative here. But just to be free of any of them—and no threat hanging over me to be discarded—it was like a dream. I could help the others. I could… rest. I was still scared it might all dissolve in a moment… but I took advantage of every moment I could get. Knowing I was still technically Rave's—while he was unable to get to me—it gave me a peace of mind I thought I'd never have again. I'll be forever grateful to you for breaking that—that—" She bit her lip, as if keeping herself from saying too much. "But this—the freedom to not be owned by anyone in particular—to come and go as I please—it's beyond what I could ever hope for."

"I'd like to give you more."

She pursed her lips, sadness in her eyes. "I'll be the best liaison I can be. I'm still not sure what it all involves… I'm happy part of it means I get to see you and Serhii. That was the worst part… being separated… They wouldn't tell me what happened…." She looked at him searchingly again, her eyes falling to his wounded neck and chest. "I—I'm sorry. I couldn't believe they'd leave you alone but…" She slid her hand through her black curls. "I don't want to ask… but… I have to know. They—wouldn't have freed me without something in return."

He considered lying to her, but she'd probably detect it, and he didn't want to put up that barrier between them. As few barriers between him and the people he cared about as possible.

"Hardly anything really."

Her eyes sparked with alarm, and he realized his affected nonchalance didn't fool her, even if he'd been trying to trick himself. It wasn't that much… but at the same time, it was far, far too much….

But it could've been worse.

"It was just—" His throat caught. He didn't know if he could form the words. "Sh-she—"

"Elena." Sahara's eyes were fierce and dark as she said the name.

Jason nodded.

She pursed her lips and leaned her head back against the wall, her face troubled. "I can never repay such a debt."

"It didn't really go far at all," he said, needing her to know he hadn't sold himself. "Just kisses. Just touches…. It wasn't a negotiation. She only offered a—reward afterwards. Since Rave was about to go off probation, I had to try to save you."

"I want to—help you somehow. Get away from all this…."

"Maybe we can go to the garden. The greenhouse. The restaurant."

"It would almost be like we're normal people, walking through a city… choosing parks and places to eat…"

"Asheville and Odyssey."

She smiled. "Asheville and Odyssey."

Jason went back to see how Serhii was doing. Miller was still treating him. On the way back to the waiting room, Jason stopped at Farah's room. He'd vowed to see her, and he hadn't been back here since the day Kyr had been born. He'd had a kind of good excuse but still.

This time, the scene on the wall was one of a lively city. The surrounding sounds were so loud he could barely hear the beeps of the machines.

They're trying their best to get her out of the coma. I should probably try to do the opposite… whatever that is. I hate to see her like this, but if she wakes up, they'll just try to hurt her again.

Still… I can't just leave her alone, surrounded by enemies who only want what's locked in her mind….

I have to honor her sacrifice.

He sat beside her, wondering if he could turn down the city sounds. Daric had used an AI to play music—Jason wondered if the same one was being used up here. And if it controlled more than just sounds and visuals….

"Dorian," said Jason, "please turn down ambient noise."

"Specify level," said the neutral male voice.

"Um… zero."

"Done," said Dorian, and the sounds shut off.

Silence.

Just the beep of the monitors on the other side of the bed…

Farah looked the same as before, her hair spread out around her serene face. Her hair didn't look tangled; he wondered if a nurse had been taking care of her more. She still looked horribly pale, her eyes sunken. There was a crease between her eyebrows, hinting permanent pain or perhaps subconscious memory of it.

Faint ridges of scars showed on her face and arms. He didn't know how far they'd gone to wring the formula for amina from her.

He grasped her hand and squeezed, wondering if she'd squeeze his hand like she had last time.

But her hand remained deathly still.

He didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

He stayed with her for several minutes, telling her about whatever good things he could dredge up. It was hard to talk about the past, but he didn't want to bring up anything negative if he could help it, so he spoke of Connie, of the life they'd been building together. About the kids they'd rescued. And he told her how brave she was and that he'd always be there for her and protect her—as far as he could.

She sighed in her sleep, as if she was having a nightmare. He pressed his hand to her forehead, smoothed her hair back.

"It's okay," he said. "It's okay, Farah."

The heart monitor spiked and she tossed and turned, moaning loudly as if fighting off unseen enemies.

Startled, he moved his hands from her, mortified he might have hurt her instead of helping. She cried out as if in pain. He stood and backed away; nurses poured into the room, checking her vitals and the machine. They surrounded her; one of them withdrew a syringe.

Tayla turned to him and said, "Please leave. She needs care."

"Don't hurt her."

"We're here to help. We can't do that if—"

He headed out the door, not wanting to hear her hypocritical 'do no harm' speech.

Sahara rose to meet him. "What happened?"

"Farah – she might be coming out of the coma."

"Who's that?"

He realized the others might not have seen her, since she'd probably been held in the basement. He didn't recall telling them about her. Perhaps he shouldn't… the fewer who knew about amina the better. "She's… someone I worked with. They wanted intel from her… She overdosed on zyx to avoid telling them the secret."

"A coma sounds like a good escape… if you can't do anything else…."

Serhii emerged from the hallway, still limping. His face bore a bandage; he wore a loose, button-down shirt that covered up most of the rest of his injuries. Most of the fingertips on his right hand were bandaged, and his ring finger was set in a splint. "See?" he said, raising his hand. "Good as new."

Jason raised his right hand. "Broken hand solidarity."

"Hopefully they don't start on the other one…." His eyes strayed into unseen distance.

"We were thinking about going to breakfast—or brunch," said Sahara, looking at the clock above the receptionist's desk. "Have you eaten yet?"

Serhii shook his head. "They tend not to feed me in there…"

"And that's where they usually give me meals now," said Jason.

"In interrogation?"

Jason nodded.

"That's messed up."

"I'm glad you don't have to deal with any of it."

She shivered. "Just going down there—gives me flashbacks."

"For some reason, I didn't think about that."

"It's worth it to be able to see you. Memories can't hurt me, not really. So… where do you want to go?"

"It's been a while since I've been up here," said Serhii. "I don't want to go near the center …. I'd rather go where there aren't usually many of them. We could go to the kitchens or the fast-food restaurant… or there's this secret vending machine… if it's still there. If you don't mind eating weird food."

"Secret vending machine?" said Sahara.

"Weird food?" said Jason.

Serhii laughed, though he winced a little. He leaned close and whispered, "I hope they don't find out about it from this… well. They have to know about it on some level. But I think it gets filled automatically from some earlier system. It's kind of off the beaten track…. I can show you."

Serhii led them down a labyrinth of hallways. Jason realized he was trying to avoid the areas where he'd been tortured—the banquet hall, the party room, the central cathedral. Perhaps other places Jason didn't know about. Despite his injury, he limped rather quickly, his pain covered up by the excitement of a grand distraction.

Jason hadn't even known many of these hallways existed, but he hadn't seen the entirety of Yavesh. It was good to know about these. There were several vending machines along them, but they were rather out in the open and he craved privacy.

Past the school there was a small nook where perhaps the janitors met, or perhaps it was for school personnel. It was also adjacent to the theater and had a large mirror in it and racks with several empty hangers. It might have been a forgotten room by both places. There was a table along the wall closest to the theater and a vending machine in the corner. A few artificial plants were placed rather haphazardly around the room. It was kind of random and sketchy… but it was also wonderful because it felt abandoned. A gorgeous liminal space amid the massive compound.

Jason wished he could bring others here, but perhaps they could come later.

Maybe we could use it as a place to meet… just for us, the core spy group, Serhii, Sahara, Elliot, and me. Too bad we can't dampen the monitors here somehow…. Perhaps there are gaps in the monitors…. Other loopholes…

"Serhii ambience 1," said Serhii, walking up to the vending machine.

Birdsong spilled out of the speakers. A delicate forest appeared; just beyond the birch trees gleamed an idyllic meadow. Soft spring leaves tapped against each other in the imitation of a waterfall's voice. A rainbow spread through the air over the distant rolling hills. Green light shed over them along with the illusion of white birches—he could almost reach out and touch them—

Sahara turned, holding the glimmer of birch bark in her palms, looking up at the sky in wonder.

"It's definition turned up to the max," said Serhii. "They just don't usually do it."

"I didn't know you could," said Sahara.

"I—was able to hitchhike my own program on the back of Misha's. They haven't found it yet… I don't think it's one of their priorities."

Sahara laughed. "You're some kind of magician."

"I've been known to create a bit of magic in my time… usually sleight of hand…" He ran his hand absently over buttons showing different types of food and drink, which were rather fuzzy. He pressed a couple and there was a thunk. He drew out a purple energy drink can and a bag of peanut butter sandwich crackers. It didn't seem to match the original pictures at all. He sat down at the table and opened the bag with a pop.

Sahara chose a sandwich and bottled water; what she got was apple slices and a mini cake.

Jason chose root beer and a bag of chips; he got a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and a bag of pickled eggs.

He sat down beside Sahara, facing Serhii. "This is so random."

"There's some sort of glitch."

"So they're not perfect."

He nodded slowly. "There are other random glitches… Do you want to trade?"

"I'll try this."

Sahara traded with Serhii for the crackers.

They devoured their food and then got some more—thankfully some more actual drinks appeared this time.

"It's like I'm still dreaming…" said Sahara, biting a brownie. "How did I not know this existed?"

"It didn't make sense to tell you when you couldn't come here."

"I wonder how long they'll leave us alone," said Jason.

Sahara laid a hand on his arm. "Don't touch the bubble or it'll pop."

They stayed there for a long time; they figured out some games to play. And had a rather veiled discussion about 'what to do next'. Hoping they'd remain unnoticed for a while, they planned to stay Above as long as possible. Explore as much of the place as they could and compare notes about what they knew.

They were just about to leave when the door opened.

Jason was relieved to see it was only Ali, but the magic faded, since it wasn't their own anymore.

"What are you doing here," said Jason, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice.

Ali looked startled for a moment. Then he said, "I didn't know anyone else knew about this place." He looked at the forest. "I didn't know slaves could order programs like this, either."

"Don't tell anyone."

"I'd never… I mean—it really is harmless. Hopefully it'll stay under the radar." He looked immensely sad. "I'll leave you alone."

"We were just leaving."

"Oh."

Jason strode toward the door.

"I can bring you something."

"Another shirt?"

Ali nodded. "I won't ask what happened to the last one."

"Thank you," said Jason.

They lingered in the library for a while, then the museum. Sahara suggested a movie and they went to the theater to find, thankfully, it was dark and empty. Jason tested the screen to see if it obeyed him—and it did. Aladdin turned on and they were carried off to a faraway place for a while.

But they had to move on instead of playing another movie just because they couldn't stay in one place too long. Jason thought he should invite Elliot, but he didn't want to go near Elena's room. So they wandered through the rooms Jason was glad the enslavers didn't frequent, couldn't appreciate. The vast garden with its roses and lavender and spices. Sahara danced among the sunflowers, finally feeling free enough to do so. They picked vegetables and ate them surreptitiously, adoring the feeling of getting away with something under the sight of the all-seeing eyes. It was probably an illusion but—he'd take it.

The greenhouse with its abundant trees, its juicy oranges, the birds flying high amid the illusion of sunlight above the branches.

The aquarium, octopi galumphing through dim waters, the flutter of white along the sand—a stingray. The brilliant little seahorse Jason felt a connection with.

The menagerie, settling among the deer for the night, the soft necks beside them as the large bright eyes closed, bears pacing in the distant background.

He woke with a start under a short, twisting tree. Grass beneath him. For a moment he struggled to remember where he was. Then he saw Sahara and Serhii sleeping near him, Sahara cuddled beneath Serhii's strong arm. The deer walking slowly in the dim misty light of early morning. The artificial sky above them.

He took a deep breath and lay back, not wanting to get up yet, even though he was cold without a blanket or shirt. They really know how to make their illusions, don't they. Complete with artificial climate… what's even the point of all this… Not that he was complaining. This refuge, this precious time, was healing... he could feel it tingle along his veins. No hope it could last—he didn't want to stay here forever anyway—but he didn't want to look beyond the branches of the tree, the gray sky, the gorgeous creatures snuffling each other affectionately, totally oblivious to the pain beyond their small world.

He closed his eyes, longing for more sleep to plunge him into another world entirely—perhaps linger where he longed to be most of all—but his mind, treacherously, spiked into activity. Trying not to wake the others, he slid up against the trunk. His heart thumped hard and he didn't know why. It shouldn't amid this peaceful scene.

Then he realized. It couldn't last… they could find him anywhere….

Sure enough, a figure strode toward him, silhouetted against the gloom. The 'sun' rose swiftly, illuminating the figure as it neared.