I finished eating. The bioscreen vibrated.
"Yes?" My voice came out tired, the tension weighing on me.
"Sorry to bother you." Takashi, always courteous. "An android dropped off the envelope with Postais. I checked her serial number. She's deactivated."
"Can you access the owner's information?"
"No. They wiped her memory. Completely inaccessible."
"Is that possible?"
"Difficult. It would require hacking the Aether Network to break the security protocol, corrupting the android, accessing the entire nanosystem, then altering and erasing it. That appears to be the case. Whoever did this is highly skilled. They wanted to hide, to be untraceable, forgotten. This is the first time I've encountered anything like it."
A shiver ran across my skin. "I see." I had expected more veils along the way. "Wait for my call. I need to take care of something first."
"All right."
The call ended.
I picked up the objects from the envelope: the cellphone. The watch. The compass. The coordinates.
I switched on the phone. Distorted pixels filled the tiny screen. I searched for files, galleries, contacts. Nothing. Empty.
I picked up the watch. It read 1:4:18. I shook it. Tried to open it. No indication of where it was made.
I held the compass. Broken.
Finally, I studied the coordinates. An abandoned bus station on the edge of Centrália.
Why? The question echoed in my mind. I rested my forehead on the table.
I spent the day walking in circles. Thoughts revolved around Maia and her question. Ready? How could I know?
My life went on. My work, my research, my… family. But there was another choice. One in which I would move forward with more than memories—with answers.
That night, if I dreamed, I forgot. Part of me hoped Maia would come into my dreams, tell me what to do.
Only darkness for company.
I woke somber. Empty eyes on the horizon. I picked up the letter and reread every word. Her voice resonated in my mind.
Maia… what do you want?
I wanted to deny it. Wanted to ignore it. I tried to convince myself it was illogical, but a feeling pulled me forward. Toward her. Those questions had tormented me for a long time. And now, I had to face them again.
Then something clicked. A glimpse deep within my being. The answer had always been there. Hidden. Filed away. Locked. Maia's words opened the lock. In that moment, she asked:
Would you cross your own corchesweave?
My gaze fell on the letter. "Yes. I'm ready to cross yours."