Two years ago, Zaharah had planned to submit her work to the National Art Gallery. They had a section there, dedicated to young artists trying to get their names out there. She'd planned and brainstormed, bounced ideas off her family at dinner. Then the accident happened, and that plan went up in literal ad proverbial flames along with her old life.

With her new life in Denden came new plans. More ambitious plans. Move to the mainland. Get a job. Find a decent place for her and Jade. And that plan was being crushed under the heel of the Director. She was being crushed. And the crushing weight of it reminded her of her sister Raquelle—the person who, were she alive and with Zaharah—would smack her over the head and tell her to get her shit together. "Oh, someone's got you under their heel, then bite off their foot." Or something like that.

Quelle was their older sister, the middle child with middle child syndrome. Slow to patience and quick to wrath. A former Special Defence Force Marine, rum enthusiast and all-around badass. The Makana had asked her to join their ranks a few times; she responded by sending them an anatomically correct wood carving of her hand flipping the bird.

Zaharah and Jade had idolised her when they were kids, hung onto her every word, even the derogatory ones. "Deverauxs do not let anyone walk all over them," she'd say.

Then why am I letting the Director walk all over me? Zaharah wondered. Because she was big and scary and powerful. A giant stepping on all the ants.

Not this ant. This ant would escape the giant's earth-trembling strides and big ugly feet. Zaharah yanked her phone from the desk and shot a text to Dr Will. It was time for a power move. She pulled out the hoodie and leggings she'd stowed beneath her pillow and swapped them with her pyjamas. The glowing desk clock read 2:30 am.

With haste, she could get to the lab by three. Zaharah took her key card and phone from the desk, and tiptoed around the maze of suitcases, textbooks, and shoes to the door. As she laid her hand on the panel, a beep came from behind her. She turned with a finger on her lips.

Skorpi looked up from his charging pad, green eyes glowing in the dark. He beeped again. Longer. Whinier.

"Okay. Okay," Zaharah whispered. She reached over and grabbed him by his stinger. "Just be quiet." She hazarded a glance at Jade—a shadowy heap atop her bed that rose and with long breaths. The person Zaharah was doing all this for.

Jade had begrudgingly packed her things with some help from Markus, then spent the rest of the day whining about the move to her gamer friends over a few rounds of CoD. Dinner had been quiet, even Markus didn't seem himself.

All the more reason for Zaharah to get them out of here. She took light, measured steps out of the room. The glow of the TVs standby light and her memory were all she had to guide her through the dark maze of furniture. She made it as far as the couch before the lights switched on. Shit. Skorpi released a screaming beep and dived into her hood.

"Zaharah," Markus said from behind her.

She turned, but kept her eyes down. "Okay I know this looks bad but I can explain." The hem of his robe came into her line of sight. "I just need to go meet Dr Cyan by the clinic."

"At least look me in the face if you're going to lie to me."

She did. "I'm not—"

"I don't want to hear it." He sat down in the armchair and rubbed his face. It was then Zaharah noticed the thin blue ring around his irises. Androids couldn't cry, or express negative emotions in the same way humans did—another thing science hadn't quite cracked. So their feelings came through their eyes.

Zaharah hadn't seen the blue ring around Markus' eyes since the time Jade ate some rancid food at school, got food poisoning and had to spend a few days in the clinic on fluids.

"I'm not going with you and Jade to the UEC," he said.

Zaharah leaned back against the wall, not of her volition, but because her knees became too weak to keep her upright on their own. Even though he'd only been with them for two years, Markus had become so engrained in their lives that she couldn't imagine not having him around.

"When I spoke to the Director earlier, she said my services are no longer needed. I'm not your android caretaker anymore." His tone was low, dripping with bitterness. "I don't know who the Director will have looking after you two, if anyone at all."

"Markus—"

"Save it, Zaharah. Twelve hours from now, you're going to be on a plane to elsewhere with your sister, and you're not ready for that." He shook his head and sighed. "I'm worried about you and I'm worried for Jade. She's going to be your responsibility now, and I don't trust your judgment."

The words hit Zaharah like a slap across the face. He'd been harsh with her before, but not like this. "Look, I—"

"Go where you're going. I don't care." He stood and hit the light, plunging the room into inky blackness, but not so black that she couldn't see his shadow of a form disappear into the hall.

And Zaharah stood there by the door, tears pricking her eyes and all the angry words she didn't get to say stinging her throat. She would've stayed there all night had her phone not buzzed and snapped her back to reality. A message from Dr Will ticked across the dash.

I'll meet you in the suite.

She swiped the tears from eyes and took a breath. Control the things you can. If Dr Cyan could get her to the mainland, she could take Markus with them. Technically stealing since he belonged to the system, but she didn't give a fuck. Looking out for her family was her top priority now, and if that meant breaking a couple laws, so be it.

Zaharah went down to lobby, pulled her board from the locker and made her way out into the arboretum. In the quiet of night, the sound of her wheels on the pavement was more of a roar than the hum she was used to. The hid light had been dimmed, like pinheads in the ceiling, and the standing lamps lining the walkway stretched her shadow out behind her. The air was cooler and the scent of pine more pungent.

In the dead of night, Denden sung, a sound drowned out during the waking hours by the general activity of the denizens. But during hours like this, the gentle hum of the island undercut the chirping of nighttime insects, a combination of the water systems and the engines pushing them towards the 700.

Zaharah took her normal route past the lab to the clinic. The lights of the former were on, and she wondered if Dwight and his team were still in there. Director Saunders mentioned having him look at her arm and Skorpi. Over her dead body.

The door to the clinic stood open and the reception area beyond was dark. She slipped in, her shoes squeaking against the tiled floor. A glow near the back of the room beckoned her forward—light spilling from the door of the suite and she drifted past the empty chairs and desk to its source.

Dr Will sat by the monitors, crisp white coat over his striped pyjamas. The kink and curls of his hair stuck out around his face in a mock afro tinged blue by the glow of the screens. With his steaming cup of coffee in hand, he almost looked homey. Human.

"Suit up quickly, Zaharah," was it all he said. No goodnight, no smile, no how are you. It seemed to be a bad night for androids, and if her conversation with Markus had taught her anything, she'd best shut up and follow instructions.

Zaharah set her board by the door and went to the bathroom. She didn't waste time looking in the mirror or checking messages. Clothes off. Suit on. "Where's doctor Cyan?" she asked when she was back out in the suite.

"She's not coming." He said in the same deadpan voice as before, eyes still on the screens. It was then that she noticed the thin blue ring around his irises. Great, him too.

She took a seat next to him. "What happened?"

"She texted me earlier, said she had to go. Didn't say where." He tapped at the keyboard with more force than necessary. "After you left she and Aleesha got into quite the fight. It got... personal. Nasty. If I hadn't jumped in, it may have gotten bloody."

Zaharah rubbed her face. First Demarkus, now Doctor Cyan. Who else would become collateral damage because of her foolishness? "She was going to help me get out of here."

"I know. But you're going to have to be creative now Zaharah. There's only so much I can do for you." He hovered a hand over the screen and rotated the 3D model, not of her spine this time, but of her head.

She grimaced at the image of her brain. "W...what are we doing with the Entochamber."

Dr Will finally looked at her, the blue ring gone from his eyes, and punched a button on the computer's console. "I'm going to give you your memories back."