Six agonizing months passed. The Explicator shifted her labyrinth’s pathways whenever an attempt to map them was made. Eventually, the humans and AIs came to the conclusion that the maze likely had no exit. They would only be saved from its unforgiving passageways once the year reached its end.

The experiment proved to be more brutal than any of the Colonists and soldiers had anticipated. Many humans were killed during physically strenuous and outright dangerous tests. The soldiers were decimated, their base reduced to a fifth of its original size. For many months, Dara had sent her soldiers out on dangerous navigational missions, where otherworldly monsters and well-concealed traps abounded. She had tried to use numbers and firepower to enforce a set of laws the test subjects refused to accept. The soldiers and subjects’ enmity had erupted into an all-out war that devastated both sides, resulting in the deaths of dozens. AIs caught up in the war were killed alongside their test subject allies.

The Colonists avoided the violent conflict, refusing to choose a side. They kept to themselves as much as possible, looking out for one another and behaving cooperatively during tests. Still, three more Colonists were killed, shaking their faith in the Cyber Initiative. Every day, Yuli regretted her decision to keep quiet about Dr. Luzi’s warning. The guilt made it increasingly difficult for her to survive. It distracted her at the worst moments, leaving her vulnerable. She’d narrowly escaped death several times. 

Reflecting on all that happened since the experiment began, Yuli lay in bed, crying as silently as she could manage. The Colonists’ bedroom had shrunk to fit four – likewise, their workshop was a shell of its former size, with fewer resources and places to sit. The house’s soft blue walls seemed to mock her every time she opened her eyes, but it was the only safe place for her in the maze. She left ‘home’ as little as possible, spending countless hours obsessively working with her code visualizer, until she was inevitably interrupted by whatever tests the Explicator cooked up to torment everyone.

After surviving several months of those diabolical tests, Yuli had finally gotten what she so desperately wanted—unrestricted access to the code that controlled each person in the maze. Now, she could get rid of the Colonists’ wounds instantaneously, effectively becoming their medic. But she still couldn’t bring back the dead.

Thinking of the day she had received the ‘prize,’ her fingers automatically traced across a burn scar on her forearm. A plasma blast had grazed her as she leaped to a platform she needed to reach. She could have edited her code to remove it, but it was evidence of the trials she overcame to earn the right to heal others in the maze. She didn’t want to erase that. She didn’t want to take it for granted.

She cupped a hand over her face as she whimpered, hearing the echo of the Explicator’s voice in her mind – “You have successfully completed ninety tests. You may request a reward.” After each completed test, she had requested the same thing, but it took four months and three more Colonist deaths for her to finally receive it.

She would never let another Colonist be killed.

Cay overheard her quiet sobs and approached her softly, careful not to awaken the slumbering Mira and Arilus. She did not notice his presence at her bedside until he whispered, “Are you alright?”

She jumped, quickly wiping her eyes and lifting her head to nod. “Yes,” she said in a hushed tone. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no. I couldn’t sleep,” the man shook his head. His expression was weary, his hair unkempt, his shoulders slumped. He was never the most upbeat person to begin with, but the maze was clearly taking a toll on him. “Yuli... You’ve saved my life more than once. If there’s anything I can do, anything at all...”

“Thank you,” Yuli sniffled, managing a smile. “But I’m fine, really.”

Cay frowned. “I don’t believe you,” he said. “Mira’s worried about you, and so am I. If you don’t want to talk to us, that’s your decision, but... we just want you to be okay.”

Mira stirred, mumbling nonsense under her breath. Yuli cast a quick glance in her direction, then quietly rose from her bed. “Can we talk downstairs?” she murmured. Cay nodded solemnly.

The sleepless Colonists attempted to be as quiet as possible, walking down the levitating stairs. They sat together at the workshop’s sole remaining table, wearing identically grim expressions. Yuli folded her hands in her lap and stared down at them, unable to meet Cay’s eyes.

“Why did you sign up for the Explicator’s Maze?” Cay asked her, crossing his arms.

Yuli froze for a moment, surprised by the question. “I’m not sure how to answer that,” she said carefully, paying close attention to her voice’s volume. “It’s not like this is a mental health check-in. I’m not about to burden you with my personal history.”

“I’m not trying to counsel you,” Cay insisted. “I’m asking as a friend.” At that statement, Yuli sharply raised her head. The bewilderment in her gaze was enough to make him smile.

She struggled to find the words she needed. Hardly anyone called Yuli their friend, not since childhood—her only friend at the Initiative was Mira. A steady ache filled her chest, as she was unexpectedly reminded of the ever-present loneliness lurking in the background of her thoughts. “I just...” She hesitated, clasping her hands together tightly. Why was it so difficult to talk to him? He was asking her to share. But would she regret it? “I... I don’t know how much you know about... why I am where I am. Most don’t, but I know you were higher up in the Initiative than me. I mean, Dr. Kallo likes you, so...” Cay watched her patiently, expectantly. She took a shaky breath. “I wasn’t recruited like most people are. I was... saved, really.”

“What do you mean?” Cay furrowed his brow.

Yuli sighed. “Back home, my family... we’ve always struggled a lot with money. My sister, Sofiya...” She paused as her eyes began to tingle with the threat of new tears. “She kept getting sick. Very sick. We could barely afford to pay her medical bills. So I did some things I shouldn’t have.” Cay opened his mouth to respond, and she hurriedly continued. “I developed software, independently. I didn’t register with A-Corp, I just... made little programs and sold them. Some were more innocent than others. I’d follow through with just about any request, if I thought I could manage it. I’d do other things, too, like change people’s grades for them, or get them access to their exes’ social media... I gave the money to my parents, and they never asked where it came from.” She closed her eyes, blushing. “The Initiative caught me trying to crack the banking system. I was going to try to increase our savings, a little at a time so nobody would notice. It sounds stupid when I say it out loud. I was overestimating myself quite a bit.”

Cay frowned. “How old were you, when you were caught?”

“Seventeen,” she said. “They pulled me out of school and told me they’d take me on as an intern if I stopped what I was doing. Apparently they knew about me for years, they were just waiting to see what I’d do next.” She laughed wryly. “One of them told me I was lucky my grades were so good. Otherwise I would’ve gone straight to prison, or...” She thought about the test subjects, those violent, furious people. How close had she been to becoming one of them? “Well, I was lucky. I ended up with a software job, but it doesn’t pay as well as what I used to do. Sofiya keeps getting worse, and my parents don’t exactly have the opportunity to increase their own pay. So… that’s why I’m here.”

“For the money,” Cay summarized. Yuli nodded quickly, and Cay half-smiled. “Your reason for being here makes mine sound pretty silly. But that doesn’t matter.” His eyes sharpened, becoming earnest. “You just have to remember why you’re here, when it gets rough. You chose this to help your sister, right? And you’re doing that. Every moment you spend here is helping her.”

“I know,” Yuli said, squeezing her eyes shut. “But I just... I just can’t stop thinking about the people who are gone. I could’ve saved them, if the Explicator would’ve let me do it sooner...” Or if I had told them what Dr. Luzi told me, she thought darkly. Regret filled her face, and she touched the burn again—placing her entire hand over it, as if to shield it, or hide it. “I just feel like a terrible person, for not doing more.”

“The fact that the Explicator is letting you save people proves you’re not a terrible person, I’m pretty certain,” Cay argued. “How many people do you think she would give the power to alter anyone’s bodies on a whim? I can only think of two, maybe three, and they’re all in this house. The Explicator was designed to judge every aspect of your character, and she’s obviously decided you’re an amazing person.”

“You think it would be me, Mira, and Dr. Kallo?” Yuli asked. Cay nodded emphatically, and the programmer frowned. “You need to give yourself a spot on that list, if you think I earned it by being nice or whatever. You and Mira are the nicest people I’ve ever met.” Cay smiled shyly, prompting a feeling of warmth in Yuli’s chest. Negativity soon crept in, however, as her thoughts turned to the Colonists’ leader. “Dr. Kallo... I don’t understand him. I thought maybe I would, but I don’t. Dr. Luzi told me that his situation was similar to mine, that the Initiative kept him out of jail, too, because they wanted to use him. She thought he’d be a good mentor for me, but he never reached out to me, or even seemed to care that I exist.” She glanced down at her lap once more. “He’s kind of scary, actually.”

Cay looked at the stairs for a moment. His expression grew contemplative. “He is a pretty intimidating person,” the man agreed. “I can’t believe I never realized the truth of his situation—or yours.”

“They don’t exactly want to advertise it,” Yuli said, with traces of bitterness in her tone. “No one ever asked me why I never went home on the weekends, why I always turned down everything I was invited to. I’m not allowed to leave until I get promoted, because only then will they be able to trust me. In a way, I basically am in jail.” She immediately winced as the words left her mouth. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I really am grateful for everything the Initiative’s done for me—”

“It’s okay,” Cay said firmly. “You don’t have to apologize.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Then, abruptly, Yuli stood. “I’m not going back to bed,” she said, “but I think I need some time to myself. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cay said. He rose from the table as well. “Just... if you ever need someone to talk to...”

Yuli nodded rapidly, unsmiling. “Thank you. Really.” She was painfully aware of the sadness in his eyes as he looked at her. “I’m sorry,” she said again, unable to hold the apology back.

Cay retreated up the stairs, leaving Yuli alone on the lower floor to spend hours poring over maze code. When he returned in the morning, he found her slumped against the wall, fast asleep, with the visualizer hovering in front of her closed eyelids.