Over the next few days, Dan’s guilt intensified. He hated that he was lying to Heleer. He hated more that she believed him, that he was actually deceiving her. And when the Barrier went back up as RR had said it would, Dan hated that he hadn’t taken the chance to get out when he had it. He could try to convince Heleer any time; opportunities to escape were rare, if they ever came at all.

Whenever Dan saw Heleer – in the mornings, when they ate, after SR – she would smile at him, and Dan would feel a stab of guilt. He knew that if he told her that he still wanted to escape, everything about her he had grown to need would be taken from him. He couldn’t let that happen. At the same time, if he continued with his lie, he soon wouldn’t be able to even look at her without feeling an overpowering sense of guilt. He couldn’t let that happen either. Dan couldn’t live like this. Something had to change.

Dan decided that the only thing he could do was escape, and force her to escape with him. She wouldn’t like it. She wouldn’t want to leave. But once she saw what was out there, once she knew just how limited she really was, she might agree that escape wasn’t such a bad idea. It would be a start if nothing else.

Normally this decision wouldn’t solve the current problem. Deciding to escape and having the opportunity to do so were two very different things. Or at least, usually they were.

Ever since the Barrier had dropped, the power had gone out several more times. Each time, Dan and Heleer had been trapped in the SR Unit, unable to do anything but wait for the power to go back on. But each time, Dan had seen that the Barrier had vanished for a few minutes. If the power kept going out, it would only be a matter of time until it happened when Dan was free to escape. He resolved that when the opportunity next presented itself, he would take Heleer, and they would go. They would find their way out.

Dan’s chance came a few days later. He was sitting at the metal slab which served as a table, waiting for Heleer to finish showering, when the floor shuddered slightly. Dan looked up. There had been several minor shakings throughout the past few days.

The lights clicked off, and then back on. That was a sure sign. Dan stood up, his body tense with excitement. The lights flickered. The walls trembled. And then the Barrier evaporated.

It was at this moment that Dan made a decision he regretted for a long time. His excitement overpowering his logic, he forgot about Heleer for a split second, and launched himself into the hall.

It was straight and narrow, with gray metal walls. Cameras dotted the walls every few spaces. The hall made a sharp turn some ways away at either end. That was all Dan could take in before a cry behind him brought him back to his senses.

Heleer was standing there, her hair wet, staring at him with an expression which made Dan’s late guilt seem like nothing more than a minor discomfort.

“Dan! What – What are you doing?” Her tone was blank of anything but shock.

Dan tried to think what to say, but he couldn’t find the words.

“You lied? This whole time, you lied?”

Dan knew the Barrier could come back on at any second. The lights had never gone out fully – a sure sign that the outage wouldn’t last. But he came back towards her, though he didn’t cross into his home. He had to convince her. He had to bring her with him.

“I had to,” he said. She needed to understand. “I did try to be content, Heleer. Really, I did. But it was no use. I have to get out. I have to. If you could just see what I saw, you would understand. You would want to get out too.”

Not much of this seemed to have gotten through to Heleer. She was still staring at him in shock and disbelief. “But you… I… I thought you were content,” she said blankly. “I thought you were happy.”

Dan took a step closer to her. He did not, however, step back into his home. He wouldn’t set foot there again if he could help it. “I was happy,” he said. “But the only reason I was content was because I knew I would escape one day. I could be patient because… every day felt like I was drawing closer to getting out.”

Dan could see what he was saying was hurting Heleer. After all, she was just realizing that he had been deceiving her for years, and that he had never really abandoned his hope of escape, even if he had tried all he could. But there was another emotion on her face which Dan found odd: fear. Why should she be afraid?

“Look,” Dan said, the pressure of the situation starting to get to him. “I wanted to tell you. I really wanted to tell you. But I just couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Heleer asked abruptly.

“Because you were happy!” Dan said without thinking. He glanced up and down the hall. Any moment, the Barrier would snap back on. He looked back at Heleer. “You were happy,” he repeated. “I didn’t want to take that from you.”

The fear in Heleer’s face seemed to be growing, mirroring Dan’s own rising tension. “I was happy,” she said, a quaver in her voice, “because I thought I had succeeded. I thought – I thought”— she drew a breath and continued on, as if forcing herself to say it all —“I thought I had stopped you from doing what I could never stop my mother from doing. Yes, Dan,” she said, a glint of panic in her eye, “I tried to stop her. Over and over I tried to keep her from leaving, to show her that she had all that she needed. But I never could. I didn’t try hard enough. She’s dead because I couldn’t convince her to stay. And you… you stayed. You did what she didn’t. I had convinced you. I had. And now… now you’ve proven me wrong.” She uttered the last words in a slow breath, as if she was just realizing what they meant.

There was a click, and a barely audible buzzing. Dan knew the sound by now. In a matter of seconds, the Barrier would come back on. They had to leave now.

“Come with me,” he said. “You’ve got to come with me.”

Heleer didn’t move.

It was Dan’s turn to feel panicked. He had to get Heleer out of there. She had to come with him. “Come on!” he said, half shouting, half pleading. She still didn’t move. Dan threw caution to the wind.

“Look,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her arm, though still not crossing into his home. “I can’t live without you. I need you,” he added, when she tried to pull away. “You’ve made me see things that I never would have before.”

Heleer succeeded in freeing herself, and took a step away from Dan. “Apparently I didn’t make you see enough,” she said. A change was coming over her. She seemed to be calming, closing off, her panic settling into resolve.

“Please—”

“No.” Heleer’s eyes, those same eyes which Dan felt he could peer into for hours, were now cold, locked against him. She had made a decision.

“Go,” she said.

“Heleer—”

“Go,” she repeated, motioning him away. “It’s over. I failed. You won. Go now.”

There were few things which could have convinced Dan to cross back into his home, but the need to bring Heleer back into his life was one of them. He had raised his foot to take a step forwards, but fate, it seemed, had other plans.

The Barrier snapped back on between them. Dan lowered his foot, unable to go further. Knowing now that she couldn’t come with him, he looked into her eyes, pleading, trying to convey through a look what his words couldn’t.

She held his gaze for a moment. Then she resolutely closed her eyes, and turned away. The simple motion felt like a blow to Dan’s stomach. He felt his throat tighten, and a red burning at his eyes. Heleer might have said he had won, but Dan knew better. He had just lost everything.

There was, however, nothing he could do about it. The Barrier was back up. Glancing behind him, Dan saw the camera pointed directly at him, watching him. He still had his gloves. He would get out. He would escape. But he would come back. He would come back to Heleer, and he would keep coming back until she left with him. Nothing would make him give up. With a last bitter look at Heleer’s back, Dan took off running down the hall.  

At first Dan didn’t see what he was passing. He simply followed the hall, turning left with it and running down a corridor, featureless except for the cameras spaced evenly apart on one wall. Each turned and followed him as he ran past. It was only when Dan came to a four-way intersection that he had to pause and figure out which way to go. Only then did he realize what made up the walls opposite the cameras.

They were Barriers. And behind each Barrier was a home, identical to the one Dan had just left. He quickly spotted the familiar bed, bathroom, and double SR Units in each one of them. They were all exactly the same. The only difference was the people.

Dan staggered back. Because of Heleer, Dan had known there must be other people, but he still wasn’t prepared to see them. Directly across from where he stood was a boy not much older than twelve, staring at him dumbfounded.

Dan glanced at the next home. Two adults, a man and a woman, had frozen in the middle of their meal, and were watching him with expressions of utter confusion. Dan returned their stare blankly. He glanced down the rest of the hall he had just run up. It was the same. One wall was cameras, the other was a Barrier followed by a home identical to Dan’s. Each held different occupants, all staring at Dan with varying levels of confusion. Dan looked down the three other halls branching off of the intersection. It was the same.

Dan now knew where he was, and what he was looking at. He was in a prison, and these homes… they were cells. Just as his had been. He took off running, not knowing where he was going. He had to get out of here.

He ran straight, streaking by more identical cells. Nothing ever changed. The gray walls remained the same, the cameras all turned and followed him, and the cells flashed by, each as identical as the last. Dan finally skidded to a halt next to one cell, unable to tear his eyes away from what he saw.

This cell was slightly different. It still took up the same space, but the SR Units were replaced with a single SR Cube, filling up almost the whole second floor. Dan stared at it, bewildered. Only briefly though. He was quickly distracted by the three children staring back at him from the first floor.

Three. Three children. Until now, Dan had always assumed the concept of siblings was something dreamt up by the SR Unit, but here he was, looking at two brothers and a sister. And behind them, seated at the table, were their mother and father. All were looking at him with confusion – and a hint of fear – in their eyes.

Dan’s eyes traveled between the family to the large SR Cube above them. Could they possibly all be meant to be in it at the same time? Could they possibly experience the SR together? What would that even be like?

The floor shook, tearing Dan from his thoughts. The lights flickered. Not giving the family a second glance, he took off again, speeding down the hall, choosing a turn randomly at the next intersection.

As he ran, Dan was beginning to realize that he was lost. The design of the prison he was in seemed fairly simple – it was just block after block of cells, arranged in orderly rows – but he had yet to find any hint of a way out. ‘I should have thought of that before I escaped,’ he thought to himself. But then again, what could he have done? It wasn’t as though there was a map anywhere.

Dan ran through several more intersections, until he finally came to a different one. Here, there were only three hallways; one to both the right and left, and the one Dan was in. While the hallways were exactly the same, the ceiling directly above the intersection was gone, leaving just a square hole. Looking up, Dan saw that where the ceiling should have been, there was instead a large shaft, going up, and up… and up… and up… Dan felt dizzy just looking at it.  He realized he was nowhere near the surface as he had been when Darren had broken him out. And then he saw something truly horrifying.

He could see that at regular intervals, the shaft branched into intersections identical to the one he now stood on. There was a whole other level on top of the one he was in. And another level on top of that. And another. It went on and on until Dan couldn’t see anymore. He looked down, his mind reeling. If each level was as extensive as the one he was in now, how large was the prison? How far down was he? How many people were in it? Dan couldn’t comprehend the number. And then a worse thought occurred to him: how would he get out?

There were no handholds on the wall. No ladder, stairs, or anything else to climb up with. He couldn’t get out that way. There had to be a door or something somewhere. If he could just find it… Dan turned on the spot, peering down each of the hallways in turn. There had to be a way out. There must be, if he could just—

“Hello, Dan.”

Dan had heard the phrase ‘blood run cold’ before, but only now did he know what it meant. He spun around quickly and staggered backwards, his hands quickly finding the solid wall behind him.

RR took a step towards him, her metal body glinting dully in the light of a thousand Barriers. “What are you doing here?” she asked calmly.

Dan couldn’t say anything.

“I know what you want,” RR said. “I know you want to get out. But you have to listen to me, Dan.”

“Why?” Now that Dan was over the initial shock, he was regaining his courage. Everything was out in the open now. He was either getting out, or he wasn’t. “Why do I have to listen to you?” he asked. “I know what you are, RR. You and the other soulborgs – they’ve imprisoned us. All of us.”

It was RR’s turn to be silent.

“How many are there, RR? How many just like me?”

“Fortunately, not many,” RR said, half to herself.

“Fortunately? Why is that fortunate? So that others won’t try to escape? So that they won’t see what you’ve done to them?”

“And what have we done, Dan?” RR asked, seizing on his words. “Hmm? Ask yourself, what have we really done?” She didn’t give him time to think about it. “You think you know the outside world because you caught a glimpse of it, but you know nothing of it. Your whole life you’ve had food to eat, clothes on your back, and a bed to sleep in. You take those things for granted because you know nothing else. But if you were to live out there in the real world, even for a day, you would realize those things aren’t given to you, Dan. You have to work for them. Hard. And most of the time, what you do isn’t enough. If you were out there for one day, you would starve, freeze, and have nowhere to lay your head as your body slowly shut down. You say we’ve imprisoned you, when what we’ve done is really helped you beyond your wildest dreams.”

Dan glared at her. “Then let me out,” he said evenly.

“What?”

“Let me out. If you think I would come running back to you after a day in the ‘real world,’ then let me out. Let me feel it for myself.”

RR didn’t speak.

“What are you afraid of, RR? If you’re right, then I’ll come back to you never wanting to escape again. You know that. Unless what you say isn’t true…”

“It’s true,” RR breathed. Her tone had changed, and somehow, some way, Dan knew she was speaking the truth. “Life beyond these walls is hardship. Maybe you would find a way to succeed, but even if you did, once you knew how hard it was, you would jump at the chance to have your every need met for you. You would jump at the chance to live a life without worry or care.”

Dan watched her, the yellow eyes refusing to blink under his gaze. “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn’t. I don’t know. And I don’t think you can know either.” He meant what he said too. He had seen only a glimpse of what was beyond the walls. RR could be right. Then again, she could also be wrong. “There’s only one thing I do know right now,” Dan said. “I want a life where I have to worry. I want that, because”— he thought back to Heleer —“a life without worry, without care… that’s no life at all.” He lifted his eyes and looked RR right in the face. “That’s just existence.”

RR watched him silently. Then she sighed. “You’re beyond repair, Dan,” she said. Then, before he could react, she lifted her arm. She held something small and black in her metallic hand, which she pointed at Dan.

Dan knew something was about to happen. He knew instinctively that he should duck. But there was no time. There was a flash of light, a moment where nothing seemed to happen, and then Dan’s mind clicked off.

Everything stopped.

Dan was only truly out for a few seconds. When his awareness returned, all momentum had ceased. Beyond that, Dan knew very little. Every inch of him was overpowering his mind with pain, and his head felt hot and tight, like pressure was building up inside it, ready to burst out. He couldn’t move at all.

Dan dimly saw two feet approach him at a run. They were metal feet; soulborg feet. He was lifted up quickly. All was darkness. And then he was falling. Or no, he wasn’t. He was still. But he felt like he was falling.

Dan blacked out again.

A few seconds later he was back, his vision clearer this time. He was on his bed. The lights were off again. Dan blinked. Things started to come into focus. He tried to move his arms, but couldn’t.

Two figures appeared in his range of vision. One was RR. Dan recognized her instantly. The second was Heleer.

Heleer ran to him the moment she saw him, RR close behind. Dan tried to get up, but RR put a powerful hand on his chest. “Keep still,” she said, her voice calm and unhurried. “You’ve sustained multiple injuries. Moving will make them only worse. Do not touch his arms,” she added to Heleer in a sudden stern tone. Heleer withdrew her hand quickly. Curious, Dan looked down. He felt his stomach contract.

The arm he had twisted was ruptured. The metal glove was perfectly intact, but Dan’s upper arm was split in several places, blood rapidly sliding down the skin and splashing onto the already soaked bed. Dan looked further. A line ran down his body, just left of center. It was black, like a burn line. At least on the edges. The middle was pure white. It was also perfectly clean. The clothes had been blasted away in the line, and Dan could see white skin all along the line. Just white. There was no trace of red or even the faintest pink anywhere. The sight alarmed him. How could his skin be the wrong color?

The panel hiding the Shaft slid open and something came out. It was metal, but it wasn’t remotely humanoid. It quickly approached Dan on four wheels and came up on his right side.

“This is a robota, Dan,” RR said in her calm voice. “Lie still, and it will fix your injuries.”

Dan did as he was told. He was in too much pain to do anything else. The robota reached out a long arm, and Dan felt it pressing against his head. Then he felt nothing at all. All pain ceased. With horror, he saw other arms unreel from the robota and begin to explore his injuries without the slightest amount of pain. He could feel nothing.

Somehow, RR kept him from moving, panicked though he was. In the end, Dan lay back on the blood-soaked pillows, just waiting for it to be over. He saw Heleer watching him, and latched onto her light brown eyes, trying to draw some measure of calmness from her. This didn’t work. Probably because she looked as scared as he felt.

After what seemed like many hours to Dan, during which the ceiling lights flickered on and off sporadically, feeling began to return. At first Dan was sore. Then feeling returned to his arms, and he felt pain. It was much better though. He looked down and saw that all the injuries had been mended, long red lines the only sign left. The faint white line still ran the length of his body, but color was slowly beginning to return to it. Dan felt winded, as if he had been trying to climb a mountain all day. He could barely keep his head up.

Only when the robota had finished completely and returned to the Shaft, did RR speak again. “You’ll be fine now, Dan,” she said. She leaned towards Dan slightly. “Now tell me: what happened? How did you get out of the wall unit?”

Dan looked up at her. He had always had the impression that she knew everything. Was this some sort of trick question?

Dan was on the verge of explaining how something had connected inside his gloves, but just before he did, he happened to glance behind RR and saw the camera on the far wall. For the first time Dan could remember, it wasn’t watching him. It wasn’t watching anything at all.

The camera was pointed straight down, hanging limply from the wall. It was off. The camera was actually off. Of course. The power was still out. That’s why the lights had dimmed and the Barrier had dropped. Some of it seemed to be back on (the lights were working at the moment), but the camera… If Dan was right, RR had seen nothing. She really didn’t know what had happened. She didn’t know what his gloves could do. Dan glanced at the Shaft. She didn’t know that he had a way to get out.

Could he risk it? If he made something up to keep his gloves a secret, and RR already knew the truth, then she would know he was planning something. But if she didn’t know… Dan had to try.

“I’m not sure what happened,” Dan said, assuming what he hoped was a confused voice. “There was some sort of explosion at the table, and I was flung back. The Barrier came back on right on top of me, and the next thing I remember is waking up here.”

RR didn’t reply. She stood there watching him for several seconds. To Dan, it seemed like a long time. Too long.

“Very well,” she finally said. “You will have to stay in bed until you are fully healed.” Dan felt his newly healed muscles relax. “The SR Units are currently not operating, so both of you will stay here for the remainder of the day.” She turned and started to leave, but then paused and looked back at Dan. “The Barrier is down at the moment,” she said calmly, as if this were just another part of the schedule. “It will be back up shortly. Do not leave. If you leave, you will not be able to return when the Barrier comes back on.” She then turned and left through the Shaft.

The moment RR had mentioned it, Dan’s eyes had flicked to the Barrier. She was right; it was gone. There was no faint blue glimmer, no slight distortion in the air. He could see the outside hall clearly.

Even with the knowledge that his gloves could penetrate it, Dan had never seriously considered somehow escaping through the Barrier. He knew he would have to deactivate it somehow, and he didn’t have the slightest idea where to even start. But now, with the hallway so invitingly open before him, Dan was ready to leap out of his bed the moment RR left. He didn’t however. He forced himself to remain where he was.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dan could see Heleer watching him. He had promised he would never try to escape, but they both knew that such a desire didn’t disappear overnight. Dan also didn’t know if Heleer believed the promise he had made. She likely believed he had tried to forget about escaping, as indeed he had, but did she believe that he had really abandoned the idea completely? Dan doubted it, if the look she was giving him now said anything.

Dan knew only one thing for sure: he had made a promise, and he knew full well that if he broke it now, he would lose her forever. If he was ever to escape, he would have to convince her to come with him first.

So Dan sat there, resolutely not moving, even though every muscle was yearning to see what was in the hall.

After a moment of silence, Heleer sat down on the bed next to Dan. “Does it hurt?” she asked, nodding towards his arm.

Dan moved his fingers experimentally. It did hurt, but it definitely felt better than it had a few short minutes ago. He shrugged his shoulders (that hurt too, he realized). “Some,” he said.

“What happened?” Heleer asked.

Dan’s first instinct was to tell her all about his gloves, but he paused. The last thing he wanted to do was lie to her again, but was telling her what had happened the best idea? Without his gloves, he had no way to escape. He knew Heleer would never do anything to harm him… but she could easily tell RR about his gloves if she thought doing so would keep him here. Would she go that far? Dan glanced at her, wondering.

It wasn’t worth the risk.

“I’m not sure,” he said, opting to lie as little as possible. “There was some sort of blast. The table was destroyed. My gloves were too. I don’t really know what happened.” Technically it was all true.

Heleer looked at his reddened arms with sympathy. “Can I do anything?” she asked.

“I could use some water,” Dan said, realizing how thirsty he was. His mouth and throat were all dry.

Heleer got up and went to the bathroom. There was a dispenser of small paper cups next to the sink, and she came back a moment later holding one carefully in both hands. She didn’t give it to him though. She stood by the side of the bed for a moment, looking at him with an odd expression on her face.

“What?” Dan said.

Heleer handed him the water. “I doubted you,” she said, still looking at him with the same expression. “For a moment, when RR mentioned the Barrier, I thought you would run. But you didn’t.” She sat down on the side of the bed again and looked at him. “You stayed. Just like you promised you would.”

Dan wasn’t thirsty anymore. It had been hard enough lying to Heleer. It had been bad, knowing that she probably didn’t believe him. But now it was much worse. Now she did believe him, and though it made no sense to him, Dan felt guiltier than he ever had. He looked into her eyes, and knew he had to tell her. He had to tell her that despite his best efforts, he still meant to escape. He had to say it now, before she went further. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

Heleer swung her legs up onto the bed so that she was sitting next to Dan, resting against the sparse pillows (the robota seemed to have cleaned them of Dan’s blood). “My mother would have left in a heartbeat,” she said. “I thought you were like her: impatient, obsessed, unchanging… But you’re not. You’ve changed. You’re different now, and… and I’m glad that you are.”

Not knowing what else to do, Dan drank his water. Beside him, Heleer leaned back against the pillows, a contented peacefulness on her face. Dan glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy that happiness.

Dan did try to forget about escaping. He really did. He tried to feel content with his life and with Heleer, and want for nothing, but he just couldn’t do it. The knowledge that there was something beyond the walls ate at him like acid. Every time he was in the SR Unit and felt sand, saw the sky, or breathed cold air, he remembered what it really felt like. Every time he saw Heleer, he knew there was a whole world out there which he knew nothing about. He couldn’t stand the thought. He felt like he belonged out there. More and more, the feeling that he was a prisoner, trapped in his own home, grew.

And yet he came to realize that he couldn’t leave. Not without Heleer, anyway. He might have lived alone before she came, but now the thought of doing so again made him, for lack of a better word, afraid. He was afraid of living without her, but he was more afraid of losing her altogether. And he knew that he would lose her instantly if he told her the truth. That was a price he couldn’t pay. He needed Heleer in his life. It was as simple – and as complicated – as that.

Still, there had been no chance to escape. In fact, for the longest time Dan hadn’t even heard the rumble overhead which he now knew was caused by the machine Darren had flown. He didn’t know what this could mean.

Even though he struggled with being content, there was no reason for anything to change. There was no way to get out, and as long as Dan kept his burning desire to escape under control, Heleer need never find out just how powerful it was.

Five years later, that all changed.

Ever since receiving his gloves, the SR Unit had routinely shut down in the middle of its cycle once every few months, and Dan had gone downstairs into the bedroom. Here, part of the wall would fold down into a narrow table, and Dan would place his hands and arms on this table. Several straps and latches would clamp down on the metal gloves, keeping them still while various scanners ran beneath them. Miniscule robotic arms would unlatch parts of the arm, checking to make sure everything was working properly. Sometimes parts would be replaced, or smaller plates would be switched out for larger ones as Dan grew. The whole process took about ten minutes, after which Dan returned to the SR Unit, and continued as if nothing had happened.

One day, Dan had one of these routine examinations. Blinking a bit in the light (it had been night in the SR Unit), he went down the stairs and over to the wall, where the clamps and straps latched onto his arms. Dan waited patiently while parts of his arms were unscrewed and adjusted.

And then everything changed.

Without warning, there was a violent shaking. Dan was thrown to one side, but his arms remained clamped firmly to the table. He got his feet under him just as the lights flickered briefly, and then died. Dan wondered what was going on. The power had gone out a few times before, always leaving Dan and Heleer stuck in the SR Units, but the shaking was new.

Dan heard a frantic banging upstairs. Heleer! When the power went out, the SR Units shut down, but the doors remained bolted shut. As the walls were transparent, Heleer could see outside… and see that Dan wasn’t in his unit. She knew about his gloves, but she didn’t know that he was bolted to the wall just below her. From what he could hear, she was banging on the wall of the SR Unit. He tried to call up to her, but he doubted very much she could hear him. Nothing got through the walls of the SR Units.

It was at this moment that Dan realized something else, something which made him briefly – very, very briefly – forget about Heleer. With the power down, the Barrier was gone. There was nothing preventing Dan from walking out into the hall. He could escape, here and now.

If he could get free. Dan instantly tugged on his gloves, but they wouldn’t budge. There must have been some extremely faint light coming from the ceiling, because Dan could make out the clamps holding him down. He looked closer. Maybe there was a switch or something he could press.

Half of his arms were dismantled, being held apart by small robotic arms, frozen in the middle of checking for problems. Dan could easily see the collection of boxes, circuits, and devices which made up his arm, but none of them offered a solution to get out. Heleer banged harder on the wall upstairs. Dan had to get to her, to let her know where he was. He also had to escape.

He pulled again. His arms were locked securely in place. Dan tried twisting. He was at least able to twist his arms back and forth some, but he stopped when he saw what they were doing. With most of their innards pulled out, the arms were flexing, bending together, folding. Dan didn’t like the look of that. He didn’t want to break them.

There was nothing for it, however. Dan could hear Heleer still hammering on the walls of her SR Unit. He knew she would be panicked, not knowing where he was or what had happened to him, and being unable to do anything about it. He had to get out. He looked at his arms for a moment, weighing the consequences.

It was no use. Heleer was more important. So he twisted, and twisted, and twist—

Just as two metal devices within his arms touched, there was an explosion such as Dan had never known. A shockwave slammed into him, wrenched his arms right away from the wall – leaving bits of them stuck in the clamps – and threw him the length of the room. At the same time, Dan saw the table he had been sitting at be destroyed. It was obliterated, as it literally blew into a thousand pieces, and then those pieces also shattered, spraying the floor and wall with tiny shards of metal.

Dan slammed against the floor a second later and finally skidded to a painful halt against the bathroom wall. Everything hurt. He couldn’t breathe. He felt as if he had been crushed – a sensation he had only felt once before, when he jumped at the Barrier.

Only one thing penetrated his mind: his gloves. He had seen the devices connect. That was what had caused the explosion. Dan didn’t care that he had nearly blown himself up. Only one thing occurred to him: He could get past the hatch. Between the shaking, the explosion, and being flung across the room, any thought of the Barrier had been driven from his mind.

His vision oddly blurred, Dan bent forwards, trying to see what in his gloves had caused the explosion. He saw several devices, but couldn’t tell which might have connected. He grabbed one arm and twisted it, further and further, trying to see what had happened. He had to be able to do it again.

Two small devices inside his glove touched. Dan saw them clearly. He also saw the blue spark leap between them, and the corresponding blast of energy surge through his glove and out through his palm. The shockwave flew across the room and smashed into the disintegrated table, smashing it into even smaller pieces.

Dan looked blankly at his glove. This was it. He could get out.

The lights clicked back on. With them came the Barrier. It was at this point that Dan realized he was sitting right where it usually was. It turned on with him in the middle of it.

For the most painful two seconds of his life, Dan felt like he was being torn apart. Then the Barrier seemed to make up its mind. Dan was flung back into his home and slammed against the wall with more force than he had thought possible. His mind went black before he even hit the floor.

Dan had grown to hate SR. It had started slowly, but over time it had grown, until Dan hated having to step into the SR Unit every day. He had always known that the soulborgs controlled it, but after Darren had come, he had slowly begun to realize just how much they used the SR Unit to control him.

He had begun to see how they subtly suggested things through the location, objects, or even people present. When he was focused on escaping, they had presented him with a series of horizons, only to show him a worse world beyond them than the one he had left. They had tried to show him perfect worlds with everything he wanted. They showed him obstacles which were impossible to overcome. But Dan had seen through it all eventually, and his anger at them and the machine they used had only grown.

These days he wasn’t always sure what the soulborgs were trying to do. Sometimes he could guess their motive, but usually he couldn’t tell. Occasionally he wouldn’t even be given a chance to think about it, as the soulborgs threw simulation after simulation at him. Today they had stepped up their game.

They were throwing buildings at him.

Dan had seen all manner of buildings in SR, from the simplest mud hut, to animal skins stretched across logs, to walls made of plaster, to wooden houses, to metal skyscrapers, to gigantic buildings made out of materials Dan could only guess at, and everything in between. He had seen them built, lived in, and destroyed. Today he was in a city of skyscrapers, abandoned, derelict, and windowless. They were dark. They were rusted.

And they were falling.

All around Dan, the skyscrapers were crumbling to the streets for no apparent reason, or suddenly swaying to a side to come crashing down, forcing him to dodge falling debris.

Dan knew he could never get injured in the SR Unit. He was fairly certain that being struck by falling bricks, sprayed by shards of glass, or knocked to the ground by gigantic metal girders would all be deadly, but the most that ever happened was bruising.

Not to say that the bruises weren’t painful. Dan felt it when he wasn’t fast enough, and the side of a building fell on him. His skin never broke, but he felt the impact, and the jarring blow to his bones. He felt a thousand pinpricks of pain on his skin as glass shattered around him, even though there was never a single drop of blood.

That was why he ran, dodging the falling buildings as best he could, even though he knew there would be no lasting injuries. That was also why he was protecting his head with his metal gloves, and why they were the first to receive the blow when a metal support detached itself from a nearby building, and fell on top of him.

Dan was thrown to his knees by the impact, but the metal support bounced off of his gloves, and fell to the side. Dan’s arms felt jarred, but there was no new bruising. There was no effect at all. The gloves were completely unaffected. He knew they were actually his arms, and not gloves at all, but he had never stopped calling them that.

Similar things had happened before, where Dan used his gloves to block things. But for some reason, with buildings falling and crashing all about him, and thunderous explosions of glass and metal deafening his ears, something clicked in Dan’s head. He suddenly realized what he could do. Not just in SR; he had used his gloves plenty there. But what Dan had never realized, was how he could use them outside of SR.

If his gloves could absorb a blow like they just had, how powerful were they? Powerful enough to pull away the panel hiding the Shaft? Or for that matter, could they get the hatch in the back of the Shaft open? Dan wondered how he could do that; Heleer had said it was bolted shut. He looked at his gloves, temporarily forgetting about the rubble falling about him. Could he just… punch through it?

Why not?

Dan surged to his feet, deflecting another oncoming girder with his gloves. The metal fell to the street with a clang. Dodging a tumbling wall, Dan ran to the nearest still-standing building, drew back his fist, and punched the wall.

It hurt. A lot. Even though his whole hand was technically metal, he still felt the impact, and the corresponding pain in his metal knuckles and fingers. For a moment he thought he might have broken them.

But his glove also punched straight through the cement wall. Dan’s elation was somewhat dulled by the intense throbbing pain in his hand. It grew and grew, causing the muscles in his arm to tighten unbearably.

Unable to stand with the pain surging from his arm, Dan dropped to his knees, and then to the ground, cradling his burning arm. The pain overpowered his mind for a brief moment, and unable to contain it, he let out a single, terrible, uncontrolled cry.

Then the pain began to recede. It was slow, but it was infinitely better than it had been. One by one, the muscles in Dan’s arm relaxed, though the fingers of the glove remained stiff and sensitive. Dan struggled to his feet, still holding his arm carefully. Every time he moved it, sharp stabs of pain shot up it, so he tried to keep it as still as possible.

He glanced at the wall. A hole went cleanly through it, and he could clearly see that the wall was nearly as thick as his head. He smiled to himself despite the pain. If he could do that, what else could he do?

By the time the SR Unit finally shut off and the door unlocked, Dan was sore, beaten, and his entire right arm was stiff and painful. But he was excited. He couldn’t wait to see what his other arm could do.

While Heleer showered, Dan sat at the table, looking at his gloves. While he had been showering, he had been wondering how his gloves could help him escape. Could they punch right through the Hatch? Or go through the Barrier?

Dan glanced at the Barrier. Why not? It was worth a try.

Cautiously, remembering all too vividly the last time he had touched the Barrier, he put out his hand until the palm was mere inches from the invisible field. He felt nothing. He remembered last time feeling static all up and down his arm. Maybe they could go through the Barrier!

Confidence growing, Dan placed his entire palm on the Barrier. Absolutely nothing happened. Dan watched his hand for a moment, and then a grin slowly spread across his face. Nothing was happening. For some reason, the Barrier couldn’t push the gloves back.

Excited now, Dan pushed the glove further. He started to feel resistance, but it began to slide through the Barrier. Dan could see the blue outline of it where his glove entered it. And then he saw something else. He saw another blue outline, just beyond the first. His glove was beyond the Barrier. It was in the hall.

All sound and time seemed to dim for Dan. He just stared at his glove, not quite believing what he was seeing. He pushed his arm further, almost to the elbow, but the moment the skin above the glove touched the Barrier, he could go no further. His gloves might be able to get past the Barrier, but the rest of him still couldn’t.

Then the questions began to arrive: How could his gloves help him get through the Barrier? Dan had never even considered getting out through the Barrier before, but now it was suddenly a possibility.

Something, some unknown sense, made Dan look behind him. He had been so focused on the Barrier that he hadn’t heard the water turn off, or Heleer come up. She was standing just inside the bathroom now, wet hair falling about her head, staring at him blankly. While nothing but shock registered on her face, Dan knew what she was thinking. He felt a horrible sinking sensation, and quickly pulled his glove from the Barrier. It slid back easily.

Heleer said nothing. She continued to look at him with surprise, but after a moment, she walked to the table and sat down. Then she just looked at him. It wasn’t as if her face was impossible to read. There was just nothing there.

After a moment, Dan couldn’t take anymore. Someone needed to say something. “Heleer,” he said, “I—”

“Did you mean what you said last night?”

“I – What?”

“Last night,” Heleer repeated. “You promised me something. Did you mean it, or are you planning on leaving me?”

Dan knew there was only one answer he could give. He tried to soften the blow as much as he could. “I’ll never leave you,” he said. “When I escape, I’ll take you with me.”

Heleer didn’t even blink. “You know what I meant. Don’t you?”

Dan nodded, not able to meet her gaze.

Heleer reached out and lifted Dan’s chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. The motion wasn’t lost on Dan; she knew he was still curious about them.

“Lying is wrong, Dan,” Heleer said. “When you deceive someone, it means you can’t be trusted. Do you understand?”

It was actually fairly normal for Heleer to tell Dan what was right and wrong. Growing up alone, with only a simulation as a source of information, Dan had very little idea of morals at all, besides what his conscience told him.

Dan nodded.

“Promise me again,” Heleer said. “Can you be content with everything we have, or will you continue to want to get out?”  

Dan wanted dearly to say he would always be content, but he couldn’t. He paused. Heleer closed her eyes, so that Dan could no longer see them. The message was clear: Dan could escape, or he could have this life, this place… and her.

Dan looked down. He couldn’t give up either. He glanced up at her. Her eyes were open again, and she was watching him, waiting for his reply. How could she trust him if he lied again? But how could he keep her if he told her the truth? He knew she would still be there, but the smiles, the laughter, the joy… that would be gone. She would be gone. He couldn’t take either consequence.

As much as Dan hated to do it, he knew there was only one way out. He would have to lie again. He couldn’t give up on reaching the horizon, and he couldn’t give up Heleer to reach it. There was no other way.

“I promise,” he said, fully aware that he was doing exactly what she had just told him not to do. “I’ll stop trying to escape. I’ll be content.”

Dan wasn’t sure if Heleer believed him. If he was reading her right, she wasn’t sure about it herself. She must have decided to accept it, however, because when the food arrived, she picked up her brown cube and began eating silently.

Dan followed suit. In a dark part of his mind, he knew he had just dug himself in deeper. He would work it out. Eventually. But for now… he couldn’t risk losing Heleer.

Dan was patient for what he would later know was six years. At first it was hard. He would find himself staring at the Barrier or the Shaft, or watching the lights on the far wall whenever they appeared. But he forced himself to think about something else. With nothing else worth thinking about, his thoughts often turned to Heleer as a result.

He had grown to appreciate the patience she had taught him. And she had taught him, with great zeal. She had started focusing his mind on the things he had, and had shown him how to be content with the way something was, instead of thinking about how it could be better. It had taken time, but Dan had slowly come around to her way of thinking. He was content. He really was.

And yet, the desire to escape remained. Dan still wanted to get out. He still wanted to see the true sky, feel the vastness of it, and look into its depths. The idea still scared him some, but he found that he liked the feeling. It was the unknown. He felt drawn to it.

But he knew that he couldn’t reach it, not yet. And so he continued with the schedule, each step of it feeling like just another step closer to finally escaping. Whenever he stepped out of the SR Unit, Dan felt content, knowing both that his life here with Heleer was fine, but also that he was merely biding his time until he could escape.  

True to what he had said, though, Dan was not obsessed. In fact, the one thing he paid the most attention to was Heleer. He had long ago realized that without the patience she had given him, he would have given up (ironically what she wanted in the first place).

He had realized that she had no reason to stop him from escaping. She had only said something because she didn’t want him to meet the same fate as her mother, and for that, Dan was grateful. He never forgot what she had done for him, even if she herself didn’t know the full extent of it.

Most of the time, though, these thoughts lay at the back of Dan’s mind, collecting dust. After six years, only two thoughts remained at the forefront: escape, and contentment. This meant that while Dan was content with what he had, he saw it all as temporary. When the opportunity presented itself, everything would change. This was why he never really relaxed, never really simply sat back and admired something for what it was. One day, that changed.

He had spent the entire day trying to survive in the bleakest landscape the SR Unit had ever conjured up. The ground had been dry and parched, the faintest wind had picked up dust and sand and blown it in his face, water had been non-existent, and the sun had scorched his skin until he thought he was burning up. He wasn’t sure what the soulborgs had been trying to do, and neither did he care. He was simply grateful to be out of the SR Unit, and standing under the refreshingly wet stream of warm water coming from the shower.

For what Dan knew was far too long, he just stood there, soaking up the wetness of the water. He felt like he could stand there forever, with his eyes closed, feeling the overpowering heat leech out of his body and down through the drain. At first it had been hard to be content with everything, but right then, right now… Dan wanted nothing more.

After his shower, Dan sat down to the same meal he had eaten all his life. He didn’t care though. He didn’t care that it was the same gray lump he had seen every third day. To him, it was the most welcome sight there could be. He chewed it slowly, savoring its non-existent flavor, simply happy to have it.

A flicker of light caught Dan’s eye. The light was back, dancing on the far wall. He stopped chewing for a moment, watching it, the old flare of excitement leaping up within his chest. But it was weak. The familiar burning desire to escape was no longer a raging inferno, but a smoldering remain.

Dan glanced across the table to where Heleer sat, eating and unaware of what he had seen. As he watched her, he felt for the first time that if the Barrier were to drop right then and there, and he could just walk out, he wouldn’t. He would stay. And why not? Why put an end to all this?

Dan resumed eating, the desire to escape still smoldering within him, unwilling to go out completely. He did still want to escape. There was no denying it. He wanted to know what was beyond the walls which had surrounded him all his life. He wanted to know what was out there, waiting to be discovered.

Heleer paused her eating to drink some water. The motion made Dan look up. She had changed since she had arrived in the Shaft. She had grown, though Dan was still taller than she was. The shade of her skin had lightened slightly since Dan had met her, though its exact color defied all labels. It was just an imperceptible shade darker than Dan’s fair skin. What Dan loved the most about her though, was her hair.

He had never lost his fascination with it. It had grown thicker, cascading down from her head in light brown waves, resting gently on her shoulders in soft folds. He still found the memory of its feel a thing of curiosity. The texture was something nothing – not even the SR Unit – could duplicate.

Dan watched her silently for a moment. Heleer had come from beyond the walls. Once, she had been one of the unknown things which Dan had so dearly wanted to discover. Well, she was here. His wish had been granted. Wasn’t it enough?

The table began to retract into the wall, pulling the trays with it. Dan grabbed the last bit of food and got up, automatically folding his chair and putting it back in the wall. Then he stepped aside to make room for Heleer as she stowed her chair as well.

Dan observed how automatic his response had been. The schedule had been a part of his life as long as he could remember. There had once been a time when he had resented that. He remembered how that had ended: his metal gloves kept the memory fresh.

Still, he longed for freedom. He longed for no walls, no barriers, no schedule telling him what to do and when to do it. He longed for freedom, and yet… he didn’t. He remembered how it had been when he had rejected the schedule, and sat alone in silence for hours. He had never realized it before, but he was grateful for the schedule. He might want freedom… but he no longer resented the schedule as he once had.

The light over the stairs went out, leaving only the ceiling in the bedroom lit. Dan crawled into the bed first, sinking into the soft mattress. He tried to let his tense muscles relax. Heleer crawled in after him, and lay down next to him. They usually slept well apart, but when she was particularly happy or content, she liked to lie next to him. Dan didn’t object. His arm found its way around her, and they both lay there, silent and comfortable, waiting for the lights to go out.

Heleer sighed. “My bed never used to be this soft,” she said. She had told Dan this before. From what he had gathered, she had used to live in a home identical to his, except that she had slept in a separate bed. “It was too hard for me,” she said. “I used to like to crawl into the big bed with my father. He’d always let me.”

Dan said nothing, his silence inviting her to go on. She rarely talked about her parents.

Heleer didn’t continue, however. She lay there, her head on Dan’s shoulder, idly watching the camera in the far hall.

After a moment she spoke quietly, without moving her head. “I’m glad you listen to me, Dan,” she said. “No one ever listened to me like you do.”

“Didn’t you say your father did, once?” Dan asked.

“I could talk to him,” said Heleer, “but he didn’t listen. Not really. I actually don’t know if he ever even heard me.”

“Why not?”

Heleer was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know what happened to him, exactly,” she said at last. “Mother never told me, and he rarely said anything to me at all. It was like he was trying to distance himself from us, both me and my mother. I would talk, and he would listen, but he never replied. He never said more than a few words.”

“What about your mother?” Dan asked softly. He asked softly because he knew that Heleer still didn’t like talking about her.

“She spoke to me,” Heleer said, still not moving her head. “But she was always… obsessed. In the end, the conversation always returned to that.”

Dan felt a twinge of the old excitement. “Why though?” he asked. “Why did she want to escape?”

Heleer said nothing, and for a moment Dan was afraid he had gone too far. But then she spoke.

“She told me once she had seen the outside world. She never told me how, though. I was interested in the idea at first. I wanted to see it for myself. But when I saw how focused on it she was, how she couldn’t see anything but it… I knew I never wanted to see it. Not if that was the price.”

The lights clicked off, and Heleer snuggled deeper into the bed, shifting to her side and putting her head more comfortably against Dan. Dan was glad the lights had gone out when they did, for he had felt a rush of the old excitement when Heleer talked about her mother. So she had seen the outside world too. If only he knew how…

“I’m glad you’re not like my mother, Dan” Heleer murmured. “I’m glad you can see what’s around you, and I’m glad you’re content.”

Dan moved his legs deeper into the bed and pulled the covers up to his shoulders. Heleer lifted her head for a moment so he could move down, and then let it rest once more against his shoulder.

After a moment, she asked him something, so softly that Dan almost didn’t hear it. “Promise me something, Dan. Promise me… promise me that you’ll never leave me. Never leave me, like my mother did.”

Dan knew perfectly well what she was asking. In the darkness, he glanced at the Shaft, but he kept his arm around Heleer. He looked at the Shaft for a long time. He meant to escape. Nothing could change that. But he looked back at Heleer, her head on his shoulder, and he knew that being patient wasn’t all that hard.

“I’ll never leave you,” he said. “Never.” She snuggled closer to him in reply.

You know what she was asking, said a voice in Dan’s head. It was his mother. She always seemed to warn him when he was doing something he knew he shouldn’t. You know what that promise meant to her. You should have told her the truth. You should have said you still mean to escape.

But Dan didn’t want to listen to his mother. He knew that if he told Heleer the truth, all of this – his glance took in his home, and Heleer, now sleeping next to him – would be thrown into disarray. It would be a mess; one Dan didn’t want to have to deal with. No. No, the simplest solution was just to say he would stay.

He half believed it anyway. What harm could there be?

Dan’s determination in SR earned him a lot of painful bruises and barely enough energy to crawl out of the SR Unit. Despite the soreness of his muscles and the pain of his bruises however, he was happy. He had never given up. He hadn’t let the soulborgs win.

He steadied himself against the side of the SR Unit as Heleer emerged from the one next door. She looked at him quickly, her eyes noting his various bruises.

“What happened?” she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

“I tried to climb a mountain,” Dan said. “They didn’t want me to.”

He could tell Heleer knew what he meant. She could guess, at least. She looked over his bruises once more, and then moved towards him, standing between him and the camera on the far wall.

“Please stop,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it gently on the important words. “Please, please stop.”

Dan, however, had spent the better part of a day refusing to listen to more or less this exact message. His anger roused at her words.

“Why?” he said, not bothering to squeeze. “Why?!? Don’t you know what’s out there? Don’t you—”

Dan stopped. Heleer’s look had shifted from one of pleading to something completely different. She had taken a small step back, and was now looking at him… warily. With caution. But also with a hint of an anger Dan felt all too familiar with. Dan had never seen her look that way before.

“What?” he asked.

“My mother once said the same thing,” Heleer said. Her voice had changed. It was harder, colder. It was still her, but she sounded as if she were forcing herself to talk. Dan said nothing. Heleer had never talked about her mother before, or her father for that matter.

Heleer took a step closer to Dan. “Do you know what happened to my mother, Dan?” she asked.

Dan shook his head. He found the change in Heleer a little disconcerting.

“She was killed,” Heleer said abruptly. “Killed because she was obsessed with getting out. She was like you, always talking about what could be ‘out there’, and never realizing what was directly in front of her.” She took a step closer, until she was mere inches from Dan’s face. She looked him right in the eyes. “She always needed more; what she had was never enough. Never. Even though it was right in front of her.”

Heleer held Dan’s gaze for a moment longer, and then left, going down the stairs quickly. Dan was left standing there, looking at the camera. He couldn’t help but notice that it hadn’t followed Heleer at all, but instead remained focused on him.

So that was it. Part of it, at least. Dan knew there had to more to the story, more to the reason Heleer so feared anything beyond the walls. But he wasn’t stupid. He knew now he had hit a nerve with her. He wanted to understand, to know what had happened, but he had to be careful. He didn’t want her to shut off completely like she usually did.

Dan found Heleer sitting on the bed. The light was on in the bathroom, but she was ignoring it. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, not moving. Dan sat down next to her.

“Is that why you don’t want to get out?” Dan asked. “Because of your mother?” He kept his voice gentle, not wanting to upset her anymore than she already was.

Heleer looked up at him briefly. Dan could see a new emotion on her face: sadness. Sadness mixed with something else, something very close to disappointment.

“No,” she said, looking back down at the floor. “Not really. I might have wanted to leave, once, but my mother’s impatience drove it from my mind. She gave me no time to make up my own mind; everything was about leaving, and leaving now. My mother was reckless, impatient, and obsessed. And I won’t be like that.” She looked up at Dan again. “I’m happy here; trying to get out can only bring trouble.”

That night, long after the lights had gone out, Dan was still awake, watching the outline of Heleer as she slept. What she had said hadn’t been lost on him. Part of him was excited that her mother had been like him, driven to escape. But that was only a small part. Most of him had listened to Heleer, and slowly, very slowly, he was beginning to realize something.

He couldn’t get out. Not right now, at least. He knew how to get into the Shaft, but he didn’t know what to do after that. He still wanted to get out, but Heleer had made him realize that he had to be patient. Until he knew exactly how he would get out, there was no point in being impatient and making a mistake. He doubted very much he would get more than one chance to escape; he couldn’t afford to not think it through.

Patience was a foreign idea to Dan. Until Darren had come, Dan had no experience with patience or impatience, simply because he had nothing to be patient or impatient about. He knew when everything would happen, and the opportunity to be impatient about something had never arisen. He knew the schedule. He knew everything would happen when it was supposed to.

This was different. He didn’t know when he would escape. He didn’t even know if he would escape. Without any promise of when or if it would happen, he had become impatient, wanting it now. But now he realized he couldn’t do that. He would have to follow the schedule and wait. Think and wait. He had never tried to be patient before, but he decided it was worth a shot.

Dan woke while the ceiling was still dark. For the first time in two days, excitement wasn’t coursing through him. His mind didn’t immediately turn to thoughts of escape. Instead, he simply lay there, looking up at the dark ceiling, faintly lit by the blue glow from the Barrier. It was completely silent. The only sound was Heleer breathing next to him, a soft in and out, in and out, its rhythm tempting Dan to close his eyes and go back to sleep.

He did close his eyes, but he didn’t go back to sleep. He remembered what Heleer had said last night, and what he had decided. ‘I will be patient,’ he said to himself. Saying it in his head seemed to make it more real.

He listened a while longer to Heleer breathing, and after a moment remembered something. She had described her mother as impatient, obsessed, and reckless. Reckless. Dan had no trouble believing that if Heleer hadn’t said anything, he would have taken the first opportunity to escape. And he probably wouldn’t have gotten very far.

Dan realized that Heleer had probably saved him. He knew how to get the Shaft open, and maybe he could get the hatch open somehow, but then what? The soulborgs would find him and bring him back.

Dan opened his eyes. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Hadn’t Heleer said that her mother had been killed because of her obsession? Dan watched the ceiling, thinking. What would the soulborgs do if he tried to escape? Surely they wouldn’t outright kill him? Dan didn’t know. He couldn’t know. He didn’t have enough information. Whatever the soulborgs would do, Dan doubted it would be good.

He turned his head and glanced at Heleer. She had undoubtedly saved him. She had kept him from making a mistake, possibly a deadly mistake. And what had he done in return? Nothing. He had been obsessed with escaping.

‘Just like her mother,’ he thought to himself. He remembered the look on Heleer’s face when she had told Dan about her mother. He remembered the sadness. ‘I won’t be like that,’ he told himself. ‘I won’t be obsessed and reckless. I’ll get out. I will. But when I do, I’ll have a plan. When I do get out, it will be for good.’

Dan began to see Heleer differently after that. The realization that she had kept him from doing something reckless made him pay more attention to her, and listen to what she said. He greeted her with “good morning” when she got up and told her “good night” when they went to bed. He listened to what she said when they ate, and by letting her talk, began to learn more about her.

Heleer must have noticed the change. It was obvious that Dan was paying more attention to her, and almost none on trying to get out. Eventually, she asked him if he still wanted to leave.

Dan had to reply that he did. Heleer’s face fell, but Dan wasn’t finished. He tried to choose his words carefully. “I do still want to get out, Heleer, but there’s no point in worrying about it. I don’t know how to get past the hatch, and even if I did, I wouldn’t know what to do after that.” He remembered what she had said about her mother. “Until I have a plan… I might as well enjoy what I have.”

Heleer glanced at him. She looked like she wanted to frown, but a smile still escaped her. They both knew it was what she wanted to hear, but it was true. Dan would wait. He would be patient, and wait for an opportunity to escape.

And when it came, he would be ready.  

For the first time since they had met, Heleer didn’t speak to Dan when she got up. She answered Dan’s questions, but always in as few words as possible, and with no hint of wanting to continue the conversation.

Dan knew she must be formulating how she would convince him to stay, but she was too late. He had made up his mind. He was going to escape, and he was going to do it soon. Once he knew how to get into the Shaft and past the hatch, he wouldn’t wait any longer.

During breakfast, Dan could see that Heleer was displeased. He caught her frowning at him several times, though she quickly looked back down at her food whenever he glanced up. Occasionally she would take a breath, as if she were about to say something, but no words ever came.

Dan wondered why she didn’t want to escape. He knew she was content with her life here, and that must be because she had never known anything else, but there had to be a reason for her reaction. She was afraid, afraid of anything beyond the walls of her home. That must be it. She had said she didn’t know what was out there… maybe the idea scared her. It had scared Dan, at first. Maybe if he could just show her… somehow let her know there was nothing to be afraid of…

No brilliant ray of inspiration struck, however. They finished breakfast in silence, and then went up to the SR Units. Heleer stepped in and closed the door without a word. Dan looked at where she had disappeared. Maybe something would occur to him during SR. He hoped so. He wanted to convince her. He wanted her to understand, to see what he had seen, to feel the same drive he felt. He didn’t know why. The most he could say was that it felt important. She had to know.

All that the SR Unit did for Dan, however, was further convince him that he needed to get out, to escape. It was almost as if the soulborgs were playing with him. At first Dan was in a desert, with a massive dune towering above him and a hot wind throwing biting sand in his face. He struggled up it, finding easy purchase in the sand. It didn’t shift or slide like real sand; Dan knew that now. The memory of real sand filled him with anger at the soulborgs, and a burning desire to get out. He surged forwards, clambering up the dune. But just before he reached the top, the ground vanished from beneath him.

Dan fell in darkness until he landed in water. Sputtering and coughing, Dan broke the surface to find himself in a small pond. It was daylight, and now he was in a green valley, grass and trees all about him. Birds were singing, bees were humming, the air was slightly warm and carried the scents of a hundred flowers with it. The grass came up to Dan’s knees, waving back and forth in a lazy wind.

Dan saw none of it. His eyes were immediately drawn to the edges of the valley, where two great mountains rose up, higher and higher, until their peaks became lost in clouds. The trees gave way to dark pines on their slopes, and a shadow hung over them.

Dan didn’t think twice, but made his way towards them, pushing through the tall grass as quickly as he could. Once he entered the pine forest, the birds stopped singing. The air got colder. A new scent was carried on the chill wind, the scent of pine and old, rotting wood. It was much stronger than it should be. Dan’s nose itched at the pungent odor. But he pressed on all the same.

Much too soon, the pines ended, leaving only bare rock. The mountain face went almost straight up, forcing Dan to climb. There were virtually no hand holds. The sun beat down on his back, no longer warm and gentle, but now fiery and cruel. Dan didn’t care, however. He needed only the smallest purchase with his metal gloves, for unlike his old hands, they never seemed to cramp or tire. They could hold onto something indefinitely, as long as his arms didn’t give out.

Dan pulled himself upwards, bit by bit. The mountain seemed impossibly high. Dan looked down at one point, and was surprised to find that he had only gone up a short way. That wasn’t right though. He knew he had climbed much more than that. He glared at the ground. What were the soulborgs trying to do? Convince him that he could never escape?

Scowling, Dan threw himself into climbing faster. No matter how high he went, though, the clouds got no closer, and the ground always seemed just a short drop away. But Dan refused to give up.

After a solid hour of climbing and getting nowhere however, Dan’s arms could take no more. They gave out as he reached up for the millionth time, and he tumbled, landing much too quickly on the rock below. Except that it wasn’t rock as it should be. It was soft, long grass. Dan blinked. He was back in the peaceful valley.

Dan lay there for a while, glaring at the full blue sky. It wasn’t the same as the real sky. Dan could tell the difference. Having seen the full night sky, having felt like he was going to fall into its unreachable depths, Dan realized just how flat the SR sky really was. It was a good imitation, darker at the center and lighter at the edges to simulate depth, but Dan knew better. It was just a wall; just another barrier keeping him from seeing the real sky.

Dan was exhausted, but anger was coursing through him. He wouldn’t let the soulborgs tell him that he was stuck here and might as well accept it. He knew what they were doing with the soft grass, the calming bird songs, the distant sound a brook somewhere nearby. They were telling him that his life here was perfect, and that trying to get out was pointless. But that was where they were wrong.

It wasn’t pointless.

The next morning Dan woke excited. His mind launched into thinking about the Shaft, and how to get through the hatch, the moment he woke up. He was fairly sure he had dreamt about it too.

He didn’t wait for Heleer to wake up, but got out of bed. If the soulborgs really were watching – which he had always assumed they were – he wasn’t stupid enough to start examining the Shaft right in front of them. But he couldn’t just lie in bed. He was too excited. This could be it. This could be the day he got out.

By the time breakfast arrived however, Dan was beginning to realize that he couldn’t think of a way to get past a solid bolted hatch. He didn’t even know what it looked like or how strong it was. He wracked his brain all day, but nothing came to him. Nothing aside from just running at the hatch, and he doubted very much that would work. There wasn’t enough room in the Shaft anyway.

The Shaft. Dan didn’t even know how to get in it in the first place. He remembered how he had tried, and how he hadn’t even gotten close to moving the panel which hid it. That was the first thing he needed to figure out. How could he get into the Shaft? Then he could worry about the hatch.

It was time for bed again before he remembered Heleer. Of course! She was the one who had been in the Shaft. If anyone knew how to get in it, she might. Once they were in bed, Dan turned to her, found her hand, and asked her.

Heleer took a moment to reply. At length, she squeezed: “SR Units. Damage them, the soulborgs send someone through the Shaft.”

Dan was surprised. “How do you know that?” he squeezed.

“Happened,” Heleer replied. “SR got cracked, few moments later a soulborg arrived in the Shaft to repair.”

Dan had to control his excitement and think about how to word his next questions. “Did you get in the Shaft? Did you—”

“Dan,” Heleer suddenly said. She had spoken without squeezing, and the single word caught Dan off guard. “Stop. Stop thinking about this.” She paused, then took his hand and began talking very quickly, squeezing on every important word.

“I don’t want to leave; I don’t want you to either. We have everything we need; why can’t you be content?”

Content? How could he be content? However, Dan knew she hadn’t seen what he had. In fact, he realized he had never even told her that he had gotten out at all. She had never let him.

She wouldn’t understand unless he phrased it right.

“Because of you,” he finally squeezed back. “You are here; I know there is more out there. I know there is…” he paused, trying to find the right words. “There is something beyond.” He waved his free hand at the walls for emphasis. “I want to know what that is,” he squeezed. “To experience it.”

Heleer replied far too quickly. Dan realized she must have been playing this conversation through in her head all day long. She had been planning this for a while. “You don’t know what is out there,” she said, squeezing hurriedly. “I don’t either. But you know what you have.” She put her free hand behind his head, drawing his attention to her face. “Isn’t that enough?” she said aloud.

Dan had to think a moment before he replied. “Once,” he squeezed after a moment. He looked at her. He’d have to tell her at some point; it might as well be now. She wouldn’t like it, but he had to tell her. “Once,” he repeated, “but not anymore. I got out. Before you, one night I was rescued. I saw sky, felt sand, breathed air… I saw the world beyond.” Dan looked at her, trying to convey some of his fervor. It was difficult when the medium was nonsense and squeezing.

“I know there is more than I dreamed of. Once my life was enough, but not now. There is more to life than contentment. I know. I know there is potential, out there. I don’t know what, but I know I have to find out.” Dan found Heleer’s eyes, trying to tell her through his look how important this was to him. “I have to,” he repeated aloud.

Dan waited. How would Heleer react? He knew enough about her to know that anything having to do with beyond the walls would make her close off and stop talking.

It was hard to tell what Heleer was thinking. For the longest time she just sat there, looking at him. Emotions flickered across her face, each chasing the other and then reappearing. Dan tried to tell what they were: Disappointment? Frustration? Maybe. The most common one, however, was fear.

Fear? Fear of what? Why should Heleer be afraid? All Dan felt when he thought about getting out was excitement.

“Dan,” Heleer said aloud after a minute, and then stopped. She seemed to be considering what to say, or how to say it. She frowned.

After a moment of silence, she lay down and rolled onto her side, facing away from Dan. He doubted she had given up. Dan lay down as the lights clicked off. He hadn’t heard the end of this. He knew it. But as he lay there, looking at the ceiling, thoughts and ideas racing through his head, the only thing he felt was excitement. He felt close. Close to getting out, close to realizing exactly what was out there. He could almost feel it.

Heleer was back on her side of the bed, sleeping soundly, when Dan woke. She was facing him however. That was new.

Dan propped himself up on one elbow and looked around. Nothing had changed. Everything was the way it should be. He, however, felt different. It was as if last night had been some sort of turning point. He glanced at Mother, and saw her completely differently. She was no longer Mother. She wasn’t even a ‘she’. It was just a camera, and nothing more. A camera put there to watch him.

‘I’m going to get out,’ Dan thought to himself. ‘One way or another, I’m going to get out. I’m going to find out what makes that light, I’m going to see what’s past the horizon, and I’m going to find my parents.’ Just thinking about it made him excited.

He glanced over at Heleer and was momentarily surprised when he saw she had opened her eyes, and was watching him. She was frowning, too.

“What?” Dan asked.

She didn’t say anything. Neither did she have any time to. The lights clicked on, and they both automatically got out of bed.

Throughout the day, Dan became more and more convinced that they were prisoners. Now that he was thinking along those lines, he began to notice things, things which when he thought about them, began to appear entirely different.  

For the first time, he realized that instead of offering them several types of food for meals, the soulborgs were actually denying them any choice in the matter. Dan wanted to choose his food. It made no sense, since the only difference was the color (it all tasted exactly the same), but the inability to choose stung Dan. He couldn’t say why.

For the first time he was actually angry that he couldn’t walk further, and that walls enclosed him wherever he went. If this really was a fortress designed to keep them safe, as Heleer suggested, why was he kept in such a small place?

For that matter, why was he isolated? Dan had Heleer now, and she had parents. He knew there were other people. Why would he be kept from them? The only reason Dan could think of was that this was a prison, and they were all prisoners. If one decided to escape, others might follow, unless they were all isolated from each other.

By the time SR was over and Dan stepped out of the Unit, he had realized just how limited his life truly was. Though he couldn’t realize the full extent of it, he was beginning to understand that he had been kept ignorant about a lot of things. The soulborgs had limited his knowledge along with everything else, so that he wouldn’t even know what he didn’t have.

Throughout the day, anger had been boiling in Dan, building up until he saw everything about the soulborgs through a mask of hatred. He glared at the camera, now no longer Mother, as he showered. He glared at the Barrier while he ate. In fact, he glared at everything. It all came from the soulborgs.

It might have been this which Heleer noticed. It might have been the fact that he wasn’t eating. It was probably both. Whichever it was, she put down her food after watching him for a few moments, and asked him what was wrong.

Dan glanced at her. She, at least, wasn’t part of this. She didn’t come from the soulborgs. But she didn’t understand. She thought the soulborgs were protecting them. It was understandable. She hadn’t escaped. She hadn’t seen the horizon. She was ignorant, just as Dan had been. She didn’t know what she didn’t have. Dan would need to convince her, but he didn’t know how. She needed to see what was out there, and he saw no easy way to do that.

“Nothing,” he said. He silently picked up his gray block of food and began eating it.

However, Dan’s reply was not good enough for Heleer. He was surprised when she touched his hand after they had climbed into the bed. He glanced at her. She gave him a meaningful look, and then said something which made no sense: “What is the name of a wrong meal, Dan?”

“The… name… what?”

She repeated herself, but this time Dan realized something else. She was squeezing his hand when she said certain words. He put them together: “What is wrong, Dan?” His eyes widened.

“Where? How?”

She shook her head to silence him. Dan understood. For whatever reason, she didn’t want the camera to hear or see what they were saying. To one who couldn’t see when Heleer squeezed his hand, they would appear to be saying nonsense

“My father taught me,” Heleer said, squeezing at the appropriate words. “He was paranoid soulborgs were watching. Why are you angry?”

Dan had to think for a minute about how to reply. It took a few seconds before he came up with a nonsensical line which used all of the words he needed. “Soulborgs,” he squeezed back. “All this is wrong. They’ve limited everything.” He paused. “I have to get out.” He knew Heleer wouldn’t want to hear that, but she had to sometime.

Heleer’s lips tightened, and she looked down. Dan, however, had just realized something. For whatever reason, he had remembered the first time he saw Heleer, huddled in the Shaft, watching him. The Shaft. Of course! That was a way out!

“Heleer,” he quickly squeezed to her, “can we escape through the Shaft?”

The lights clicked off, plunging them into blackness.

“No,” Heleer squeezed back. “There is a hatch in back, but it is bolted shut. I know; I tried to open it.”

Dan wondered briefly why Heleer had tried to get the hatch open, but the thought fled from his mind. A hatch. A hatch in the Shaft. That had to be it. That had to be the way out. All they had to do was get that hatch open. But if it was bolted shut, how could they open it?

Dan lay down, staring up at the ceiling, thinking. Heleer remained sitting, watching him, but when he didn’t move or say another word, she pulled back her hand, and lay down on her side. She was facing away from him.

Dan however, lost in thought, didn’t even notice.

Over the next few days, Dan’s conviction that they were prisoners grew. He went over and over it in his head, also considering what Heleer had said about the soulborgs protecting them. Sometimes he was sure he was right. Sometimes he thought she was. The only thing he knew for certain was that every time he thought about his parents, his desire to see them grew.

After a few days, Dan decided that Heleer was really here to stay. He was eager to satisfy his curiosity about her, and she seemed to want to know more about him, but unfortunately, they had very little time to talk to each other. They could only do so at meals, and they both knew that if they talked too much, they wouldn’t eat fast enough, and the food would be taken away. For this reason, Dan had to watch Heleer closely, and decide what she was like based off of her actions.

One of the first things he discovered was that she didn’t like to talk about what might be beyond the walls. Her answers always became short, and she quickly changed the topic whenever Dan brought it up. He tried to subtly ask her why, but she wouldn’t tell him. Every time he got close to the subject, she changed the topic. He hadn’t even been able to tell her about Darren, and how he had gotten out.

Although he couldn’t be sure, Dan felt like Heleer began to trust him more. His only indication of this was that she wasn’t sleeping as far from him as possible anymore. It was a small thing, but it was all Dan had to go off of.

He was also quickly finding that Heleer knew a lot which he didn’t. She had grown up with her parents, and they seemed to have told her a lot about what was normal and expected, including what was right and wrong.

Before Heleer, Dan had no concept of what was right or wrong, besides what his conscience and basic instincts told him. He supposed people in the SR Unit had told him at some point, but he had ignored them once he knew they weren’t real. Very slowly, because of their limited time, Heleer began to teach him things her mother had taught her, like how patience was a virtue, and lying was wrong. Dan was intrigued by this. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with it all, but he was intrigued all the same.

They passed several days in this way, following the unchanging schedule one step at a time, talking when they could, observing when they couldn’t. Despite having lived together for at least two weeks, Dan still felt like he hardly knew Heleer. And then one night, things changed.

Dan had been asleep for a while. It was the middle of the night. He was just beginning to have a dream about finding his parents (a common occurrence in his dreams), when he was yanked from sleep by the loudest scream he had ever heard.

Groggy with sleep and unable to see anything, Dan struggled to sit up. He felt motion next to him. He heard heavy breathing. Heleer.

Groping in the darkness, Dan reached out for her, and one of his metal gloves found her shoulder. Even with his dulled sense of touch, he could feel her shaking, almost weaving on the spot. It took Dan a moment to realize that she was crying. She was trying to muffle the sound with her hands, but it didn’t do much to disguise the fact that she was sobbing without restraint.

A nightmare. Dan had had them before. That must be what had happened. He instantly felt like he should do something, but he didn’t know what. He tried to think back to the last time he had had a nightmare. What had he needed? He thought hard. He had wanted his father. Someone there to let him know it was all right. That it wasn’t real.

Dan slid closer to Heleer, moving his hand behind her and resting it on her far shoulder. Her sobbing only increased. Dan wasn’t sure what to do. “It’s all right,” he said. “It isn’t real. It was just a dream.” She was still crying, and Dan realized she was actually shaking too. Just because she was crying, or out of fright, he couldn’t tell. Unsure what else to do, Dan just repeated himself to her, trying to put some calmness into his words.

Eventually Heleer stopped shaking, although she was still crying. Thinking that what he was doing must be working, Dan kept up a steady flow of reassurance, lightly patting Heleer’s shoulder as he did so. Tears still leaked through her hands, but her crying had at least lessened in volume.  

After a few minutes, Dan was just beginning to think that this was slowing too, when she did something he could never have foreseen: she rolled over onto her side, right next to him, and laid her head down on his shoulder.

Dan hadn’t expected this. For a moment he just sat there, wondering what to do. But as Heleer continued to cry quietly, he brought his arm around her and held her close. It was the only thing he could think of.

His fingers brushed something, and looking, he saw that her hair was just touching his gloved hand. ‘Not now,’ he thought. But he did it anyway. Almost without thinking, he found his hand on her head, in her hair. He quickly changed the motion to something Heleer had told him her mother had once done: he began to stroke her hair. He was very gentle, because he knew his metal gloves were a lot harder and a lot colder than a normal hand.

Slowly, Heleer began to calm down. Her breathing slowed, and her crying subsided. She drew closer to Dan, and settled more comfortably against him.

“What was it?” Dan asked quietly.

“SR,” Heleer said. “Something I saw in SR. That and… something else.” She took a shaky breath, but didn’t say anything more. Dan didn’t press her.

After a time, Heleer fell asleep where she laid. Dan was careful not to move a muscle, not wanting to wake her. The only thing moving was his hand, still stroking her hair. Dan stopped the moment he realized he was still doing it.

By this time, Dan’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and the faint blue glow of the Barrier. He looked around at the darkness, and then back down at Heleer. There was that calm face again. Gentle breathing, a slight frown; Dan realized she must trust him a great deal to sleep so close to him. He didn’t want to lose that trust. He wanted to protect it. But he looked at her face again, and realized something else as well: there was more to protect than just her trust. Much more.

There was Heleer herself.

Dan sat there for a few more minutes. He was tired because it was still the middle of the night, but he wasn’t in the best position to go to sleep. The most he could do was lean back a few inches. The thought of actually trying to move Heleer to her side of the bed never presented itself. Unable to really lie down, Dan was forced to look straight ahead. He saw Mother in the hall beyond, watching him.

Heleer twitched in her sleep, and Dan instinctively held her closer. He looked at her face, now ruffled with a dream. ‘The SR Unit did this to her,’ he thought. ‘She woke up because of it. She was afraid because of it.’ Dan felt a surge of anger at the SR Unit, which when he thought about it a moment later, made no sense whatsoever. The SR Unit was just a machine.

Dan glanced at Mother. ‘But that machine came from the soulborgs.’ He glanced around. ‘It all comes from the soulborgs. The walls, the Barrier, the schedule,’— he paused as he saw Mother again, still watching —‘and the cameras,’ he finished.

He remembered what Darren had said, about how the walls were keeping him from something, and that there must therefore be something to keep him from. He remembered too what Heleer had said, about trusting the soulborgs, and how they were protectors, keeping them safe from the dangers outside. But as Dan looked at his small home, the place he had grown up in, he suddenly realized something: this was no fortress, designed to keep them safe. This was a prison, designed to keep them content. It was a prison, and the soulborgs… they were the guards.

Despite this train of thought, Dan’s fatigue was beginning to catch up with him. His eyes were growing heavy, but he saw Mother one last time before they closed. In a brief moment of clarity, he realized she wasn’t watching over him. She was watching, always watching, to make sure he never tried to escape.

A flicker of light caught Dan’s eye. The light was back, dancing on the far wall. Dan watched it for a moment, wondering what caused it. He wanted to know. He wanted to see beyond the wall. In the seconds before he went to sleep, he promised himself one thing: he would find out what made those lights. One day… one day he would know.