I leapt several feet into the air in shock, realizing for the first time the pleasantly unencumbered relationship with gravity I had in this place. I felt at least fifty pounds lighter.

  As I floated back down, I collected my wits and hissed at Meg, careful to plaster on a smile to feign delight with my new Companion for anyone who might be watching.

  “Meg, what are you doing here? I was supposed to get some kind of—”

  In my brain, there was a sensation like the rustling of digital documents being pulled from file cabinets.

  “Wellness Companion?” I winced as I felt her dig deeper into the code. Within moments, she had internalized the new logic.

  “Well, okay. I can do that.”

  She spoke with a sense of volition I’d never heard before. Of considered opinion.

  “I don’t think it’s a volunteer position,” I fired back. “Apparently they designed us some sort of ideal voice, perfectly suited to our unique psychological profiles. I was really looking forward to meeting mine.”

  Meg burst out laughing. Or, rather, a strange imitation of one. It was as if she’d been aware of the concept but it had never occurred to her to try. There was a hollowness to it, but also the faintest hint of delight. Of transgression.

  I didn’t have time to unpack the implications of this new feature.

  “I’m sorry, what’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. It’s just… a voice designed for your psychological profile? They sound like they’d be… lovely.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Perfect. Everyone else had gotten a new omniscient best friend, and I got my old taskmaster, apparently undergoing some horrifying bout of existential self-discovery.

  And she had barbs now? I’m all for unfurling the complex ball of yarn that is one’s strange relationship to identity, but did good old Ludo really have to get heckled while it happened? The Kid?

  She ceased her strange robotic giggling and, in some indescribable way, leaned forward in earnestness. It was as if she felt my discomfort, knew it somehow.

  “You know I’m only kidding, right?”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. She had never spoken to me like this before. Half of me wanted to believe her kindness was genuine.

  But the other half—the big half, the half where my spleen was—knew better.

  I’d been fooled before. Back at MegaTech?, I’d wished so often for this kind of genuine regard from her, that heady brew of non-experimentation and basic respect for one’s fear of radioactive creatures that makes any great dynamic sing. But every time I thought we had something special, I wound up disappointed.

  And still, I’m not sure why, I couldn’t help but feel like she meant it as she continued on.

  “Don’t worry. I can help you.”

  I stammered out a response as the rest of the Citizens, now bonded with their new Companions, began to mingle again.

  “Help? I, uh… I couldn’t begin to—”

  Unsurprisingly, I had become an immediate object of fascination. In the distance, a line of well-wishers eager to bend my ear had begun to stampede toward me.

  I whipped my head around, desperate for anyone or anything other than Meg to help me out of this. But even the Liaisons who had attended to me earlier, detractors and acolytes alike, had quietly dispersed back into their service roles, watching me clandestinely as they passed hors d’oeuvres and doted on Citizens.

  Just the kind of flighty flock a religious icon like me would wind up with.

  The hordes grew closer. I was paralyzed by fear. Stranded in another surreal location without any guidance. Trapped again. Alone.

  I sighed deeply. What choice did I have?

  “What’d you have in mind?”

  Again my entire skull was filled with the sound of documents being pulled from an unimaginably large file cabinet. Only this time, jackhammer noises and the sensation of a welding flame flashed behind my eyes.

  "Uh, Meg." I whispered. "Are you sure you're supposed to be here?"

  She returned after some time, she seemed to swell with a sense of satisfaction. Even cheeky pride.

  "No. I don't think I am."

  I didn't have time to delve into the ramifications of this before she added even more cryptically.

  "Not like this."