Ben's friendly smile was the most terrifying thing Damian had ever seen. It was a mask, and behind it was something cold and knowing. The silver tool in his hand looked innocuous, but every instinct screamed that it was a weapon.
"Routine check?" Damian heard himself say, his voice strangely calm. He slowly moved his hand toward the keyboard, hoping to close the files.
"I wouldn't," Ben said, his tone still light, but with an iron edge. "Let's just keep everything as it is for the review, shall we?"
Damian's mind raced. He was trapped. The library was empty. Ben was between him and the only exit. The Archivist was watching. His one hour of freedom was almost up.
Think. What would V2.0 do? He was paranoid, but he was also smart. He wouldn't have left a digital trail without a backup plan. He trusted physical things. The key. The chip.
The chip.
Damian's fingers, still hovering near the keyboard, twitched. Instead of closing the file, he jabbed the eject key. A small, satisfying click sounded as the data-chip popped out of the terminal's slot.
Ben's fake smile vanished. "What are you doing?"
In one fluid motion, Damian snatched the chip and slammed his other hand down on the terminal's power button. The screen went black.
"Hey!" Ben lunged forward, the silver tool extending like a stingray's barb.
Damian didn't think. He threw the hot coffee from the Arboretum café directly into Ben's face. Ben yelled, more in surprise than pain, his hands flying up to his scalded eyes. It was only a second of distraction, but it was enough.
Damian bolted. He didn't head for the main exit. He ran deeper into the library, toward the display cases of old books. He heard Ben cursing behind him, footsteps following.
His heart was a jackhammer. He had no plan. The chip was a burning secret in his fist. He couldn't let them get it back. He skidded around a corner and saw it: a small, dark doorway marked MAINTENANCE.
He wrenched the door open and slammed it shut behind him, plunging into a narrow utility corridor lit by harsh, flickering lights. Pipes hissed overhead. This was the guts of the Arcology, the messy reality behind the clean walls. He ran, not knowing where he was going, just putting distance between himself and Ben.
After a few frantic turns, he stopped, leaning against a cold pipe, gasping for air. He was lost. And he was still holding the chip. It was evidence. As long as he had it, they would hunt him.
He looked at the tiny black rectangle. It held the truth. The truth about Elara. The truth about what they were doing to him. He couldn't destroy it. But he couldn't keep it on him.
His eyes darted around the maintenance tunnel. There were grates, conduits, junction boxes. He needed a hiding place. Somewhere no one would ever look. He spotted a pipe running along the ceiling with a heavy layer of dust on top. Too obvious. Then he saw it: a small, dark gap where a section of wall paneling had come slightly loose near the floor.
He knelt down and pried at the panel. It gave a little. Behind it was a hollow space filled with ancient, brittle wiring. A tomb for secrets. He pushed the data-chip deep into the nest of wires, then snapped the panel back into place. He scraped some dust from the floor and rubbed it over the seam, making it look untouched.
It was done. The truth was buried again.
Now he had to get back to his apartment without being caught. He had to act normal. He had to be a blank slate.
He took a few deep breaths, trying to slow his pounding heart. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had to come up with a story. A reason why he was in a maintenance tunnel.
He started walking, trying to find a way out. After a few minutes, he found a ladder leading up to a hatch. He pushed it open and found himself in a quiet hallway on a residential level. He looked a mess, but he was back in the "official" world.
He started walking, trying to look like a confused man who'd taken a wrong turn. It wasn't hard. He felt completely lost.
He was still blocks from his apartment when two Aegis officers in black uniforms rounded the corner. Their eyes locked on him immediately.
"Damian Grey," one said, his voice flat. "You are in violation of your restricted movement order. Come with us."
There was no point in resisting. He nodded, putting on a dazed expression. "I… I got lost. The halls all look the same."
They didn't answer. They just escorted him, one on each side, back to his apartment. Inspector Rourke was waiting by the door, his arms crossed. His expression was unreadable.
"Taking a tour of the maintenance tunnels, Mr. Grey?" Rourke asked. "Your heart rate and location were flagged by the Archivist. Care to explain?"
Damian looked him straight in the eye. He channeled all his fear and confusion into a performance of sheer, pathetic helplessness.
"The library… the old books… it triggered something. A memory of getting lost as a kid. I panicked. I saw a door and I just… ran. I don't know why. I'm sorry." He let his shoulders slump. "I don't feel right. My head is… fuzzy."
Rourke studied him for a long, silent moment. He was looking for a lie. Damian held his breath.
Finally, Rourke nodded, almost to himself. "The integration process can cause disorientation. Fugue states are not uncommon." He sounded like he was reading from a manual. "But this is your final warning, Grey. The next time you step out of line, your integration will be deemed a failure. And failed Versions are… decommissioned."
The word hung in the air, cold and final.
Rourke and the officers left. The door sealed shut.
Damian stood alone in the silence. He had survived. He'd hidden the chip. But he was more trapped than ever. He had the truth, but it was locked away in his own head and buried in a wall. The only thing he had left was the name.
Project Chimera.
And a terrible, growing certainty that Elara hadn't died in an accident. She had been murdered for asking the same questions he was asking now. He was walking the same path his previous self had walked. A path that led to a dead end.
He walked to the window and looked out at the glittering, artificial city. Somewhere out there, Ben was reporting his failure. Somewhere, the people behind Project Chimera knew he was getting close. He had no allies, no weapons, no way out.
But he had one thing V2.0 didn't have at the end. He had a warning. And he knew where the body was buried. Now he just had to figure out how to dig it up without getting buried himself.