After a while, she decided she couldn’t just be found huddled in the corridor in the morning when the lights and signs came back on. She had to do something. She looked at the three branches of corridor that opened out around her. They all looked the same.
Keep bearing right, she advised herself. You’ll have to get to the outside wall sooner or later. You can follow that back to the start. She checked her wrist automatically, before remembering they had taken her comptroller away. She couldn’t even tell how long she’d been here.
Long meters of corridors and curtains passed her by. Chena had to work to keep herself from running. She shouldn’t be afraid. This place should be more familiar than the forest had been. She’d grown up in closed hallways, hadn’t she?
But these are nothing like the station corridors. Those weren’t creeps-breeders, ones that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t give you anything to do.…
She took the right-hand fork at every branching, more branches than she could keep count of.
How many people live here? There weren’t that many kids in the playrooms, but there’s got to be space here for thousands.…
An idea struck her. Chena stopped outside one of the curtains and listened hard, for anything—breathing, sighing, a rustle of cloth. This place might be silent, but there was no way the people in it could be.
Nothing. Chena pulled together her courage and reached out for the curtain. She touched the edge. Nothing happened. She hooked her fingers around the heavy cloth. Nothing happened then either. Taking a deep breath and holding it, she leaned close to the curtain’s edge and peeked past it.
On the other side waited an alcove identical to the one she’d snuck out of. The thin strip of night-lighting around the floorboards showed her it was completely empty, with a neatly made-up bed waiting for… whomever.
Maybe I can sleep here and sneak back when the lights come back on. I can’t really have gotten that far. It just feels that way.
It would be better than just wandering around the corridors anyway. Chena slipped through the curtain opening.
“You don’t belong here, Chena Trust.”
Chena jumped, stuffing her fist into her mouth to stop her scream. Her heart beat frantically, until she felt like it would explode.
There was no one else in the room. She was alone. No shadow moved outside the curtain. Chena lowered her hand.
“Excuse me,” she said, her eyes flicking every which way, looking for the speaker grill, or intercom, or anything. “I didn’t know.”
“You did, but you ignored it.” The voice might have belonged to a young man or a middle-aged woman. It was soft, smooth, and perfect, and a little sad. It sounded like it was coming out of the air by Chena’s right ear.
“Who are you?”
“I am the Alpha Complex,” replied the voice. “You have come to live in me, and I’m rather sorry you don’t like it.”
Okay, okay. Chena rubbed her hand against her thigh, rubbing off the spit and the sudden sweat. It’s just a computer. Nothing to get excited about. It’s not like you haven’t talked to a machine before.
“I need directions to the foyer,” said Chena. “Respond.”
“No,” answered the Alpha Complex. “You need to return to your bedroom.”
“I need directions to the foyer,” Chena repeated, clenching one fist. “You will respond.”
“No.” The complex’s voice remained unperturbed. “It is not time for you to be there yet.”
Chena’s gaze swept the room. If there was a control pad somewhere, she couldn’t see it. That left her with no way to force this machine to give her what she needed.
“Why didn’t you say something when I went out?” she demanded irritably. “You could have saved us both the trouble.”
“I wanted to see what you would do.” The complex sounded marginally more cheerful, even a little pleased with itself. “If you had turned back at any time, you would have found the signs on at half power.”
“So, you let me get lost.” Chena tried to put some heat into her voice. Right now she just felt cold. She did not like this thing. It wasn’t acting like an artificial intelligence, even a gatekeeper. It was acting like… like… a cross between Teal and Experimenter Basante.
“I let you reach your limits,” answered the complex. “I would not have let you distress yourself unduly, don’t worry.”
That wasn’t one of the things I was worrying about, trust me, thought Chena sourly. “So, you’ll let me go back now?”
“Of course.” The curtain whisked silently aside. Chena swallowed again. She hadn’t realized this… AI, or whatever it was, could work the curtains. “Follow the signs. They will take you straight back to bed.”