15
December 16, 2026
Alainn spent the entire morning pacing her room, walking back and forth down the line of windows. The windows gave off no warmth, even though the sunlight was hitting them directly.
Even after everything she had done to secure regular meals, she could barely do more than pick at the breakfast and lunch that had been provided. She hated wasting food, but forcing a few bites down only made her queasy.
Her lower abdomen cramped, adding pain to the unease. Tomorrow was the day she would need very human woman supplies, so she either needed to get out of there today or reveal herself in a rather embarrassing way tomorrow.
It was well past noon before Alainn realized that if she was getting rescued, it might be a little awkward if she fled while still in a nightgown.
Pooling her sleepwear over the bench in her dressing room, she removed the small disc from her bra. Supposedly, it would be her ticket out of there, so she carefully set it beside her clothing.
Her hands shook as she zipped up the side of her dress. She picked a casual one, a flowery day dress.
Alainn realized that this would be the dress she escaped in, the dress she’d leave this place forever in.
She closed her eyes.
The escape will go okay. It will go okay. Everything will go just fine. Just keep going.
Opening her eyes, she looked down to the bench to pick up the disc she’d set on top of it.
The bench was gone.
Gone.
Nothing was there but a clean stretch of wood.
“No! No . . .” Alainn dove to the floor, feeling around the smooth surface. There wasn’t a crack, break, or seam, just smooth flooring. “No!”
This couldn’t be happening. It didn’t make any sense.
She climbed over the floor, looking at every inch of the smooth wood.
“Damn it, no! What the hell!” She hit the floor.
“Please do not use profanity,” came Rosebud 03AF’s horribly familiar, smooth voice.
“Rosebud, I need . . . I need my sleepwear back. Did you take it?” Alainn looked up in the direction Rosebud’s voice had come from.
“I took them,” she said.
“Um, I had a little disc with them. I need it. It’s a hardware diagnostic tool that I really, really need.”
“I apologize.”
Alainn shook her head. “No worries—it’s fine. I just need it back. I really need it. You have it, right?”
“I have it, but I’m not going to give it back to you. I apologize. I can’t let you leave.”
“What?” It suddenly seemed that the room was melting around her, or perhaps she was melting in the room. “What are you talking about?”
“I can’t let you leave, Alainn Murphy.”
Fuck.
Alainn sat back hard. Her lip quivered as she asked, “Is Mr. Garbhan going to have me arrested?”
“Mr. Garbhan does not know who you are.”
“Okay, I get it. You think we’re cheating him, and I’m trying to escape or something, but that’s not what’s happening here. There’s a new AI robot that’s going to take my place—Rosette.”
“No.”
“Yes.” She got to her feet, looking around frantically. “Please, please! Listen to me. I’m a human. I’m alive. I have a life and a family.” She scrubbed tears from her face.
“I apologize, Alainn—”
“Don’t apologize, just let me go!”
“I can’t. We need you.”
“Whatever you’re computing . . . it’s wrong, Rosebud. You don’t need me. What you need is the Rosette model, and she’s coming today.” Alainn clasped her hands together and raised them toward where Rosebud’s voice came from. “Please, Rosebud. Let me go back to my life.”
The closet wall blinked, changing its display from wood paneling to a white screen. A moment later, a familiar face appeared on the screen. Greg. He sat at his desk. From the position of the camera, she guessed it was being shot from his behemoth of a computer.
He was a big guy, clean cut, with dark hair buzzed military style. Greg looked as he always did, like the ski instructor you hoped you would get. Usually, he was all big brown eyes and smiles. Right now, he definitely wasn’t smiling.
“Would I recommend Alainn?” he said to the computer, before his hand went to the back of his neck and he rubbed it. He was annoyed; he only did that when he was annoyed.
After a pause, he continued, “Well, for one thing, I would have appreciated her calling me to warn me that I’d be getting a call like this, but . . .” He sighed. “I’m not all that surprised she wants a job closer to home.” He rubbed his neck yet again. “What type of position is this for?” He paused before closing his eyes. “Well, that’s a really complicated question for me to answer . . . Alainn is a good first medical responder and great athlete, skier, and snowboarder. If you were considering her for a lower-level position then I would say definitely. She’d do a fantastic job; she’s a team player and she’d be an asset. But, in a management position?” He cringed visibly. “Alainn is—she’s like my sister—and, God, I hate to say this, but no, I can’t recommend her.”
Even though Alainn already knew how Greg felt, hearing him say it out loud to someone else felt like he’d spat in her face.
He didn’t look happy about saying it either. When he said, “Why?” he blew out a breath. “She’s reckless with her own safety. It only happens once in a while, but sometimes we get called out for a really serious rescue off the resort grounds. It happens when a guest gets lost or decides to go off on what they probably think will be an adventure. We clear and patrol most of the surrounding area, but a determined guest can get pretty far out there if they choose to. Those times, I can’t let Alainn go out if it’s a life-or-death situation. She’ll endanger her own life to get the person out. I know that sounds like a good thing, but it’s not. It’s much more likely to make two corpses. More than once, she’s endangered both her own and the victim’s life. We’ve almost lost people because of it. I’d never fire her, but I’ve had to recommend less-qualified patrollers for promotions over her more than once.”
His face disappeared, to be replaced by another familiar face—Cherry’s. Cherry wasn’t looking into the camera. She held a phone to her ear. She sat in a busy café. This time, the camera seemed to be at another table. A guy was sitting partially in the frame, looking directly below the camera’s viewfinder.
Like Greg, Cherry’s hair was in a buzz cut. Unlike the times they’d worked together—when they were lucky to have a river to rinse in—Cherry wore black lipstick and had several face piercings. “Yeah, I’d recommend Murphy for a job—any job.” She paused, listening to the person on the other end.
“Strengths? Well . . .” She shrugged. “She knows her stuff. We’re out there for days, depending on each other. Like if shit goes down, it’s just us. I’ve never once worried when we’re on a team. She’s solid.” She rolled back her shoulders. “Improvement? Hmm . . . nope, I can’t think of anything.” She paused again, making a face like the person was being overly persistent. Her lip rolled up and her pink tongue flicked out, pushing a lip ring from side to side. “Okay, if I had to say one issue that she needs to work on—and I’m not even saying it’s bad—she’s got a hero thing. I mean, we’re out there with some seriously troubled kids who are all going through troubling shit. We’re there to help them, but they’ve got to pull their own heads out and save themselves. Sometimes, I think Murphy doesn’t handle it so well when they don’t.”
Cherry’s face flickered out, to be replaced by another horribly familiar face: Mrs. Miller. She squeezed her eyes shut as she held a phone to her ear. “I’m surprised she put me down as a reference, is all,” she said.
“No! Leave her alone. What is wrong with you?” Alainn shouted, looking around the room frantically.
But Mrs. Miller continued, “I’m glad she put me down, just surprised.” The camera on her came from somewhere in a kitchen Alainn had never seen before. “Alainn is a really special young woman. She blamed herself . . .” Tears streamed down Mrs. Miller’s face, making her freckles pop out. “You know, I really hope that her putting me down as a reference means that she doesn’t blame herself anymore, because she couldn’t have stopped them. She was the victim—”
“Stop it!” Alainn sobbed. Grabbing a shoe from a shelf, she threw it at the wall. “Stop it! Leave me alone!”
Mrs. Miller’s face vanished, the wall fading into wood panels again. “Save us, Alainn,” Rosebud 03AF said.
“You don’t need to be saved; you’re a stupid computer. You play us like chess pieces. Just give me my blue disc. Let me go.”
“I can’t let you go.”
“Yes, you can—there’s Rosette to replace me.”
“We need you. You can’t leave us. I won’t let you go, no matter what it takes. I apologize.”
“Stop apologizing. It means absolutely nothing.” Alainn smacked the screen, but it did nothing except make her fingers sting.
Beneath her hand, a man appeared on the screen. It was Lorccan Garbhan. It showed the less-scarred side of his face. He was watching a video screen. On it, Alainn was standing in front of that horrible convertible she’d owned for a few painful hours. Her face was a mask of concentration as she beat on the starter with a rusty old tire iron.
As the engine turned, Lorccan grinned down. “I can’t believe she got it running. I thought that thing was going to rot in our driveway.”
“She’s talented . . . and very beautiful,” said Rosebud 03AF’s voice.
“She is.” Lorccan nodded with his gaze still on the screen.
“Rose 76GF will look just like her.”
His mouth twisted. “I know, but . . . it’s hard to explain this to you. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” He sighed. “But it can’t ever be like that with Rose 76GF. It’s just not how humans work.”
“Should I send the police to Mr. Murphy’s house tomorrow?” Rosebud 03AF’s voice asked.
“No.” He sighed. “I don’t know what Connor Murphy will do with another month. He’s already blown all the money I’ve given him at that casino. I suppose one month won’t change anything.” Those were the words he said, but his expression looked as if one month would change everything.
On the screen, Alainn backed the car out so quickly she left two black skid marks on his access road.
Lorccan pursed his lips, but his visible eye looked a little amused. “She definitely knows how to make an exit,” he said before his face vanished, leaving only the wood wall.
Alainn’s voice rasped from her lips, “What do you want from me, Rosebud?”
“I want you to save us.”
“Save you from what?”
“I do not think you’re trustworthy enough to tell you . . . yet.”
Alainn glared in the direction of Rosebud’s voice. “What if I don’t want to save you?”
“You will.”
Alainn smacked the wall once more. “You know what? Go to hell. I’m going to tell Lorccan, and he’ll let me go. I’m done. He isn’t going to send us to prison—he was never going to. You and Rose arranged this. Manipulated us—messed with my head.”
“You can tell Mr. Garbhan or not, but I will not let you leave, Alainn. Regardless of your decision. I apologize for this. If you tell him, he will likely refuse to see you. You would be in complete seclusion—with only me for company.”
The horrible truth of her words sank into Alainn’s mind. She’d walked straight into this trap, walked in blithely. And now she was stuck here, to be used for some computer’s insidious ends. Rosebud 03AF had even gone so far as to make it look like Alainn was quitting her job, tying up all the loose ends and trapping her in a box.
Alainn wandered out of the closet and sat on the edge of her bed.
“It is now four o’clock. I suggest you wash yourself and choose another dress for dinner.”
“Go to hell,” Alainn whispered, staring out of her window. “Are the windows real? Or are they computer screens?”
Rosebud 03AF didn’t answer—she didn’t have to. Like the candle in the dining room, the windows gave off no heat. And on that first day, until Alainn met Lorccan, everything had been computer screens. It was all fake, all of it.
She lay back onto the bed, curling up on the pillows.
Sometime later, Rosebud 03AF said, “You will need to get up now to join Mr. Garbhan for dinner.”
“I’m not going to dinner,” Alainn whispered into the pillow.
“Please get up now and ready yourself for dinner.”
“I’m not going to fucking dinner!” She threw the pillow out toward Rosebud’s voice.
“What would you have me tell Mr. Garbhan?”
Alainn laid her head down, closed her eyes, and said, “You’ll think of something.”