“What am I permitted to call you?” the android asked, after we’d walked long enough in silence.

  The question took me by surprise.

  “Oh um… Ayla’s fine.”

  “Then this way please, Aylas Fine.” I narrowed my eyes but he waved down a final hallway where some of the other project participants were being shown to their rooms, the movement stilted as his voice. I could have sworn I saw the flutter of a faint smile but maybe I was finally going crazy.

  There was no other way to say it, the guest rooms were also impressive. The silver décor glinted against the navy walls like moonlight, even more holographic paintings and pictures hanging for decoration, chronicles to heroes dead long ago.

  This place had history embedded in its walls, that much was clear, and a golden lap of luxury to stand testament to it.

  He swiftly opened the door to one of the rooms.

  “These are your quarters. Please change into the clothes we have provided for you.”

  Folded neatly on the bed was a crisp linen shirt with a navy letter R stitched on the front, matching a pair of navy trousers with braces.

  Compared to the institution uniform, it was a considerable upgrade.

  Once I was changed, I took in the bedroom properly. Fluffy pillows and a bed with silk covers. Cream walls with bluebells painted along the bottom. If I’d ever dreamed of a home, this is what it would look like. There was only one person I wanted to share it with, but he was miles away now.

  “Have you ever had friends Ganymede?” I asked the android, plopping myself onto one of the plush seats at a circular coffee table in the corner. It was uncomfortably soft but I tried my best not to fidget.

  “I do not have the capacity to feel, which includes caring for others and forming attachment, so no.”

  “That’s not so bad,” I told him, “There are lots of times I wish I couldn’t feel anything.”

  For a brief second, the sound of whips and screaming filled my mind, but I pushed it down, like I had done a million times before.

  “Ganymede!” I clapped my hands and sprang from my seat, “You wouldn’t know how to turn on the telenet would you?”

  I’d seen it coming in and now deemed it a worthy distraction.

  He nodded, then marched towards the giant screen on the wall.

  “It is controlled by voice commands. You simply have to say ‘telenet on’.”

  The screen lit up like magic, showing a dramatic scene of a man and a woman professing their love to each other in the thundering rain.

  “Thanks, I’ve always wanted to use a real live telenet. How many things can you watch on this?”

  “Lots. You just switch the channel.”

  The image changed to a film with guns and death.

  “Skip this one.” I tried, and clapped in delight as the channel changed once more to the news.

  I was curious at what the outside world had to say but unfortunately, what it had to say was nothing interesting. Some story about the Chancellor’s son returning from the European Federation warfront, rebels stealing shipments from pharmaceutical companies in response to the newly announced Relegate Project, which managed to hold my attention for a while before the story changed to go on about how the country’s economy was improving and how our army was the best in the world.

  I sighed and collapsed on the bed.

  “Can I make you some tea Miss Fine?” asked Ganymede.

  “That’s sweet but no,” I replied, shaking my head, “Thanks though.”

  “Then I shall bid you goodnight.” He gave a bow, “It’s almost curfew so I suggest getting some sleep. Your medication’s in the drawer of your bedside table if you need it, the supply will get replenished with the completion of each trial. I will see you in the morning.”

  I opened the drawer to confirm and lo and behold, there were the pills. Ridiculous, really, that I needed such tiny things to keep me alive but at least I had them. I guess the challenges counted as a hard day’s work. Galton would’ve been livid.

  The image of that vein on his forehead popping in fury made me smile a little. Not that I wished death on him but, well, I wouldn’t exactly be upset. Hey, judge me all you want, it wasn’t as if he was going to die anytime soon. A girl can dream.

  His reaction to me becoming a Custom someday, now that might finish him off. That was something I’d pay to see, although I wouldn’t let myself imagine that far quite yet. I needed to get through tomorrow first. In the meantime, however, the pills were very easy to swallow without a big-headed doctor breathing down my neck telling me I hadn’t earned them.

  I closed the drawer, the smooth polished wood unnatural against my calloused fingers. It would certainly take some time to get used to all this.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Night Ganymede,” I called after him as he left.

  His absence allowed a blanket of quiet to wrap around the room, and I sat there, not quite sure what to make of the strange day I’d had, of what challenges lay ahead. This room was only a temporary break from the horrors we were supposedly going to face, after all. A nice break with silk pillows I almost melted into, don’t get me wrong, but still a break. Whatever they threw at me in the coming weeks, it would be a struggle to make it through the other side. But I’d find a way. I had to.

  Getting through this project was the closest chance I’d ever have to freeing Niles and Ramya. If I got through this, I could convince Shirley to enlist them too, and get them the freedom of becoming a Custom. That was what the contract had said after all. Those that complete the trials will become Customs. It was too much to hope, to dream that it could ever happen to us, but now freedom seemed closer than ever. This was our one shot. I had to make it count.

  Something shuffled outside.

  Across the base of the door, shadows ran like spilled ink on paper, followed by mumbling voices.

  The carpeted floor muffled my footsteps as I leant my ear against the wood to better hear what they were saying.

  “Is everything prepared for tomorrow?” a voice said. Shirley’s voice.

  “Yes ma’am. The scientists have said the machine is ready.”

  “Good.” A pause, “I am doing the right thing, aren’t I? We’ve matched the psychological profiles to perfection, the plan will work, won’t it?”

  “We have no reason to doubt yet ma’am although we’ll have to wait until the first trial tomorrow.”

  The conversation faded away but I itched to hear more.

  I opened the door an inch and watched as Shirley and one of her guards marched on before I slipped into the hallway and followed them, taking care not to let my footsteps be heard against the marble floor.

  They turned down a flight of stairs then two hallways towards a silver lift glinting even in the dark of night, pressing a button which turned blue as they stepped inside.

  As it went up, I pounced on the button, hoping to follow them, when I heard a shout from behind a corner down the hallway.

  “Oi! Who’s there?”

  Oh no.

  The Estate passed like a blur as I sprinted back where I’d come from, then down the nearest staircase, doing everything not to be caught. The shouting got louder, and no doubt signalled to any surrounding guards that they needed to investigate, so I did the only thing I could think of and went to hide in the closest room.

  I grappled with the doorknob but it wouldn’t budge so I tried the next, then the next, each as stubborn as the last.

  Finally, one gave way, just as the guards’ shadows came into view. I shut the door as quickly but quietly as I could, taking deep breaths as I leant against it with both palms splayed open, laughing at how close that had been.

  Until someone cleared their throat behind me.

  I turned slowly to see a young man with a face almost as surprised as mine standing at his desk, fountain pen poised to write on the page before him. His deep brown eyes met my lighter ones, full of fear as they were.

  We stood there, assessing the other for what seemed like ages, anticipating each other’s next move, the threat either of us might pose, until the bang of doors being kicked open one by one rumbled down the hallway.

  “Sorry about this.”

  Before he could protest I dived behind the desk just as the guards burst through the room.

  “How can I help you gentlemen?” he asked, his voice smooth as the satin of his waistcoat. At least he didn’t open with ‘here she is boys, take her away’. That was a promising start.

  “There’s a Relegate disobeying curfew, sir, unaccompanied. Did you see anyone go this way?”

  His eyes shifted to me as I continued pleading with all my heart, praying to whatever god existed for him not to give me away.

  Please, I begged silently in my head, and hoped the message got through to my face. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.

  “What do they look like?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips, “Big man with a scar? Short girl with brown eyes and blonde hair in need of a comb?”

  I glared at him for how casually he said it, but luckily I didn’t hear any grunts of agreement from the guards.

  “We didn’t see their face,” one of the guards admitted, and the seconds stretched on in agonising moments as the young man rolled up his shirtsleeves and strutted out of view.

  Don’t do it.

  “Pity, that probably would have been helpful. Well, if that’s all you have to go on then I’m afraid the only help I can give is to suggest checking the east wing. Now if you’ll excuse me, my reports aren’t going to write themselves. Good luck with your search but I shall bid you goodnight.”

  The door creaked open.

  “Sorry for disturbing you, sir. Goodnight.”

  Their footsteps retreated but I didn’t dare move, not even as the boy came back into view. He observed me for a moment before extending his hand.

  “So, I take it you’re the Relegate they’re looking for,” he said as he helped me to my feet.

  “Am I?” I laughed nervously, “And all this time I thought they were chasing me for beauty tips. Not that I’m complaining, but why didn’t you tell them I was here?”

  He scoffed without malice.

  “The guards are here for security, and please don’t take offense, but you don’t look particularly dangerous.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, or whether I should have taken offense.

  “I could be dangerous if I wanted to,” I protested.

  “Ah, well in that case…” He made for the door, almost ready to call the guards back, and I realised my mistake.

  “No, wait! I’m not… I didn’t mean…” I wrestled with the right words before they came to me. “Thank you,” I said, finally, and he took his hand off the doorknob.

  “No problem Miss…”

  “Pickering. Ayla Pickering.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  We shook hands.

  “Likewise.”

  I took in his short locks of hair that matched his eyes and complemented his dark bronze skin. The guards had called him sir, and with his perfect features, the high cheekbones, the long nose and full lips, he was probably a Custom.

  “I’ve seen you before,” I said, “Where have I seen you before?”

  He laughed but it came out hollow, as if he didn’t believe it.

  “I doubt that. You know, you should count yourself lucky they didn’t see your face. I’d get back as quickly as possible if I were you, they’ll probably start checking the guest rooms to see who’s missing.”

  “You’re changing the subject,” I grinned, leaning forward as if to share a secret with him, “You’ll have to try harder than that, you see, I’m an expert. So, go on, tell me your name. I need to know who I’m thanking.”

  “The guards will be in the east wing by now, if you’re quick about it you should be able to return to your room undetected. Good night. Oh, and er, this never happened. For both our sakes.”

  He returned to the pile of papers at his desk, a clear dismissal if ever I’d seen one. And I’d seen a few.

  I debated causing a fuss, but there really wasn’t much point. I’d probably never see him again.

  Besides, I probably owed him my life so it was best not to push his buttons. I gave a bow.

  “Of course. And you’re holding your pen the wrong way round, by the way. Good night.”

  He cleared his throat as he corrected himself, and I left him to it, retracing my steps up the stairs and across the hallways back to my room so that when the guards finally did come knocking on all the Relegate doors, they found me tossing and turning in bed, awake, but technically not breaking curfew. They left in disgruntlement to continue the search, though it wasn’t until long afterwards I eventually drifted into a sleep infected with nightmares.