Emerging from the stygian confines of the building, the early evening sunlight blinded her. Norma raised a dusky forearm to her face, heartrate pounding with something akin to excitement. She had no clue what to expect of Pleroma I, but when her eyes adjusted, she was stunned by the contrast from the desert rippling outside the wall.

"Geo-engineering, human ingenuity, and a bit of duct tape," Mr. Betts joked.

She glanced over her shoulder at the man standing in the frame of massive hydraulic doors. Nothing but darkness at his back. He extended an apple. She turned away from him. Verdant forests spread ahead of her, and a smooth ribbon of asphalt snaked through the trees. Each deep breath she took delivered the loamy smell of rich black earth, at odds with the sibilant dunes that had choked her with sand upon arrival.

"We use underground cooling stations," Mr. Betts ambled toward her and pointed with the apple at the arriving electronic autobus, "completely altering the terrain and climate, so this place is habitable for you while you complete your observations."

"Who watches the watcher?" Norma wondered aloud. Neon text suddenly lit her retinal insert. She froze with hope that her internet connection had somehow remained open. It took precious little for her captor to dash those hopes.

Biting into his fruit and grunting a laugh, he gave her shoulder a rough squeeze. "We don't have to watch you too closely. The Digi-pill you were given contains a tracker that, by now, has embedded itself somewhere within your digestive tract. Getting rid of it will be absolute murder.

"And here's your transport to the Executive Housing bloc," he continued. "Check your insert. Along with employee profiles, you should have your first directives from The Board. No further data will come from the outside. We've outfitted the city with a private intranet unattached from the public global quantum network."

"Coño," she whispered. He was right. The message was a street map of Pleroma I. She blinked to clear the layout from her field of vision. The door of the bus whooshed open, and on the shimmering dashboard was a preprogrammed route.

Mr. Betts gave his snack another distracted bite before snapping his fingers. Nils materialized from the wall to dispose of the apple core. Norma couldn't help feeling similarly powerless. At least for the time being. As the robot returned within, Mr. Betts stuck out his hand to shake hers.

"So, this is where we say our goodbyes, Ms. Reyes. I'll stay connected via VisuoChat. Don't get brave once you're on your own. I have paramilitary forces stationed along the wall to ensure staff remain compliant with our stay agreements."

"Oh, is that what you call what we have? We both know you mean imprisonment."

"A matter of perspective," he laughed. "The other EI agents contracted to this operation understand exiting before the one-year security clearances expire won't happen under any circumstances. They're being paid ridiculous sums to be here. Same for you. This installation sustains adequate food, water and waste management, proper medical facilities. It's not a prison; it's... it's actually eutopia."

~*~

Eutopia. It was dusk. Aboard the empty bus that floated like a ghost ship into an empty city, Norma fought sleep to survey the unfamiliar environment. Forests gave way to tidy modern homes. Nothing moved. Not an animal stirred. Neighborhoods made room for condominiums to rise alongside other buildings. Regardless, emptiness prevailed. It was eerie.

Her stomach rumbled with hunger, and she hugged her knees to her chest. She confronted the toll the day's events had taken. Her brief dance with sleep had been drug-induced and not restful. She hadn't eaten since lunch Friday afternoon. Now Saturday had stolen another day.

The thing that stood out in her mind was Mr. Betts' attempt to leverage 'collateral.' The problem was she had next to nothing left to lose, aside from her company. The Board—the nine cowards hiding in the shadows of this operation—had already compromised Wang & Reyes by kidnapping her.

She sighed as the bus turned from the main street to a block of homes that were statelier and more refined than those seen previously on her inaugural drive through the city. A computerized voice announced: "Executive Housing, Pleroma I. We have reached our destination."

For the next twelve months this would be her neighborhood, courtesy of Mr. Betts and The Board. Norma left the bus. Scanning the well-spaced residences, she tensed when her insert revealed which one was hers. Back in New Silicon, she had yet to sink her sizeable income into a home. But this was... perfect? Was that possible?

Deepening night laid a black backdrop. Hyacinth clouds bunched in a symmetrical panorama against the dome of the sky. At its apex, the sky was speckled with the first bright stars. Then there was the house: Three stories of understated opulence with white stucco walls and tall, undressed windows, elegant wrought iron balustrades. The architecture was blocky, attractive. The landscaping thrust the scent of gardenias upon her as she walked up the sidewalk to the front door. It opened at a touch of the biometric scanner, and that was where her eutopia ended.

Someone was zip-tied to a chair in the center of the ultramodern living room.

A black velvet bag obscured that someone's bowed head. However, at Norma's bewildered outcry, the person snapped to attention. Broad, muscular shoulders jerked with renewed fight against bondage. Norma rushed in, and the room lights powered on automatically. She snatched the face-covering free. Upon seeing who was underneath, she felt her world tilt.

"No! What are you doing here? You were supposed to be in the colonies!" Norma sobbed.

"Mmph!" her best friend grunted past a gag.

The tech entrepreneur rushed through the unfamiliar house in search of something sharp enough to cut the artist loose. Once freed, Skylar Carter launched from the chair into her arms. Norma didn't want to let her go. Sky's wiry body trembled with overwhelm. Mussy blond dreadlocks spilled around her sienna face and hid her glossy eyes. When she tried to speak, her parched throat refused.

Norma dragged her to the kitchen. "How long have they kept you like this? I don't understand," she fretted as she filled a glass with water.

The artist slumped against the island with her head in her hands. "I was on the shuttle. Some men came and took me off. They didn't explain—" She gulped down the liquid, coughing. "They didn't explain anything, just nabbed me and injected something that put me out. I woke up here."

Collateral. The email invitation to the outer colonies had been a trap, Norma realized. She couldn't tear her gaze from Skylar's bruised wrists. The woman's lips were chapped, and there were dark circles under her eyes. When the artist had had her fill of water, she raided the gift basket that sat on the counter like an obscene joke, and Norma paced away in anger at Mr. Betts, The Board, the whole lot of them.

"You're here because of me," she whispered, squeezing eyes shut.

"Yeah. I noticed I got carted here against my will, and you walked right in. But I mean, it's a kidnapping. I'm worth five of you," Skylar managed to joke as she passed a square of cheese. "What's going on here, Norms? Talk to me."

The tech entrepreneur flashed a wan smile. "This isn't about a ransom. I'm not who you think I am, and I know that sounds cliché, but I'm... I'm really not." She crammed the cheese and a grape from the basket into her mouth.

Norma didn't know how to do this. How to tell her best friend they were trapped, at the mercy of heaven only knew who, and that they might not make it out alive? She wanted to kick herself for failing to explain her past sooner.

To make matters worse, Skylar channeled superhuman patience. The artist moved with deliberative grace, dug out the bottle of wine, uncorked it. In comfy joggers and a t-shirt, her lithe form was androgynous and familiar. She poured for them both and extended a glass to Norma, her arm traced by colorful tattoos.

"Maybe you should start from the top," said Skylar.

Norma ignored the drink in favor of another hug. She was terrified her confession would change their friendship. "A year before I met you," she buried her face in Sky's shoulder, "I erased my identity because the government deemed me a national security threat.

"I wasn't a danger to anyone. It was all powerplays and politics," she explained. "I simply wanted to live a normal life. Within our friendship, I found the normalcy I craved. And I thought if I could create something impactful enough, I could—"

"Retire and disappear into obscurity," Skylar finished for her.

Norma bobbed her head. "I was this close, Sky. This close! I am so sorry that I've gotten you into this mess. Somehow, they found me. Now, they're using you as collateral to make sure I do what they want." She disengaged from the hug and parked her hip against the kitchen island as Skylar absently massaged the redness encircling her own wrist.

"I hesitate to ask, but... What do they want you to do?" The artist locked eyes with Norma.

"Officially? They want me to prepare bio-AI for life in the real world. Unofficially, someone wants me to fail with enough e for effort to collect my paycheck and go home. My handler doesn't want these robots to leave Pleroma I."

"I say we explore the perimeter and check for vulnerabilities," Skylar replied.

"No, the wall is unbreachable. Until I've had more time to explore things, I can't decide whether an escape attempt has better odds than finishing out the full year of my contract."

"A whole damn year?" Sky brought her wineglass to her lips and peered at Norma over the rim.

"You were headed to the colonies for three years. Maybe we can run this place together," Norma planned aloud with a hint of enthusiasm. "I'm methodical; you're a creative genius. I bet we can have a much bigger impact here than we ever could have at Wang & Reyes."

"Hey, tackling goals and burying your nose in the books is your happy zone," Skylar said wryly, "but I've been tied up for two days. Forgive me if I don't jump at the opportunity to assist our kidnappers. Everything that glitters ain't gold."

Norma shrugged. "For now, I don't have a choice. It's as simple as that. Whether or not you help me, I have to do this, so try to stick close."

"Oh, you're my jailer now, too?" Sky asked with a tense grin. The tech entrepreneur crossed her arms to hug herself but didn't answer. The artist's grin faded. "You're my jailer now." She retraced her steps to the living room with Norma on her heels. At the front door, she laid a hand on the wall-mounted biometric scanner. The door clicked partially open as Sky glared over her shoulder at her.

"I'm your best friend, Skylar, and I'm trying to keep you alive. Where are you going?" Norma asked in a rush.

Sky opened the door the rest of the way and stepped into the night. "Checking to see if I have permission to move about the country and surprise, surprise."

"Wait, Sky—"

"Hello," a man greeted in a resonant voice. Skylar jumped, startled, and Norma gaped at the stranger. Her magnum opus—her own personal bio-AI unit—was on her doorstep.

revised 2021