“So, you sticking around this time?” Jen asked. Her blonde hair had a blue streak through it this weekend, and she wore the Fighting Game League signature white tank top with a pair of snake-leather-like pants that conformed tightly to her thighs. She was often the object of lust for many league competitors. Knowing this, she had explained to Harlow in one of those dark teatimes of the soul that it was nice, but also terrifying. She had received an obscene number of badly worded, cringy love letters, some from long-term fans. But these were at a ratio of about one to ten to threats, varying from unrequited love to a sense of being owed attention.

  “You know what? Yeah!” Harlow responded after a long pause. Jen gasped, unable to hide her shock but immediately feeling a joy of anticipation that tonight wasn’t going to be like other nights.

  She had long tried to get Harlow out of his shell, to spend time with her and the crew. She’d had long debates with Geoff, the bearded, curly-haired wonder who never missed an opportunity to hang out with her. It took his all not to overshoot and become one of the many letters on her pile. He’d often told Jen that with his past — having lost his wife and baby — Harlow was unlikely to want to spend much time with her, but that was because it was plain that Harlow and Jen had the beginnings of a bond that made Geoff nervous. It was the truth.

  Harlow’s non-platonic feelings for Jen created complex emotions that he didn’t feel at all ready to deal with. He hadn’t expected to have such feelings for anyone ever again. So, instead of facing them and exploring where this led, he had chosen — for a long time — to run away from them. He felt guilty over these emotions betraying his love for Hailey.

  The years had been dark since Hailey’s passing. Harlow had accepted this new reality and, as such, reasoned that creating close bonds and friendships, for the long-term, probably wasn’t worth his energy. Before, people tended to enter and exit his life, some leaving heavy imprints, others treading as lightly as butterflies. Hailey’s death, however, had changed his landscape so that no marks seemed possible anymore. The concrete had dried. Now everything else was just periphery — doing its best to weather, chip away, and erode the cold block of cement he had become.

  Harlow stayed by Jen’s side during her show-hosting duties and kept her entertained while she was off-camera. Later, as the cast and crew drifted home for the night and the Tiny Temple became nearly vacated, Jen and Harlow stayed behind, drinking some of the stuff Geoff kept behind the counter.

  Bathed in the neon signs and arcade cabinets, they chatted for a long time. Small, obvious stuff at first — he explained the situation with Theresa and Rose, how he saw it connecting.

  “Is this Rose as dear to you as T was?” Jen asked, glancing into her glass and swirling it a bit, as if the movement might improve his answer.

  Harlow raised his brows and puffed. “Pff, I mean…she’s my neighbor, right? She seems cool and all, and I would feel badly if anything happened to her. I’ll help her out if she needs anything, but it’s not like we connect on an emotional level,” Harlow responded, feeling like he was baring his soul.

  He expanded on this a bit, with Jen’s encouragement, sharing anecdotes that didn’t totally clarify whether he liked having Rose as a neighbor, or whether he thought about her the same way everyone in history had always felt about their neighbors.

  Their conversation continued, but Harlow kept to lighter topics for the rest of the night, feeling uncomfortable about sharing as much as he already had. Jen picked up on this and didn’t push, not wanting to spoil a pleasant evening.

  ***

  Stumbling to the door of his apartment building, sopping wet, and trudging through the way-too-brightly lit hallways, with their off-red vinyl floors and light orange wallpaper, Harlow noticed again that he hadn’t seen light beneath Rose’s door, or heard any sound from her apartment, for most of the week. He’d realized this while talking to Jen, and had made a mental note to check for any changes when he got home later that night, at his neighbor’s primetime.

  Rose wasn’t very likely to take long trips, and her recent troubles didn’t increase the odds that she’d spend a lot of time away.

  Entering his apartment, he quickly found a small notepad and marker, sloppily wrote “U ok neighbor?” and tore the sheet from the pad. He slid the slightly waterlogged note under her door, keeping it visible beneath, and returned to his apartment to face another night alone with his thoughts — though with some gentle spinning and a lot more images of Jen floating through his mind than he’d anticipated when he’d awakened that morning.

  The rain clattered against his window, as Harlow awoke after a stressful night. The lack of decent food, coupled with the surplus of less-than-decent vodka from Geoff’s treasure trove, had made lying in any position too long irritating…but the slightest movement also made him feel like he was about to fall off a circus ride. Gaining his senses, but feeling shit, he was immediately overcome with concern. Before starting his day, he shuffled to his front door. Dressed in tight-fitting boxers and t-shirt Harlow stared at the slit beneath Rose’s door. His note was still there. He knocked gently and called her name, but there was no movement inside.

  He called Geoff, hoping for some sage advice, or at least info on how to ask some of her cult members if they knew her whereabouts.

  “Wada?” Geoff answered the phone, sounding fresh and on top of his day.

  “H-hey Geoff, you okay?” Harlow responded, not even trying to disguise his morning voice, as if you could smell his breath on the other end.

  “Myyyy mannnn, I wanted to congratulate you yesterday, but thought better of spoiling your chances with my intoxicating pheromones. Good job buddy, you and Jen chatted all night and she didn’t even seem bored!”

  “Hah…yeah, that was fun. Look, Geoff,” Harlow responded, trying to cut off this line of questioning (and honestly, not remembering enough of the night to be of much value for storytelling anyway), “I’m trying to get info on those Path guys. My neighbor, she’s been missing for a few days and I just wanted to—”

  “Am I hearing this correctly Harlow? Not only are you totally hitting it off with Jen, you’re already on play number two and lining up the crazy neighbor lady as well?” Geoff replied enthusiastically. This was without a doubt one of those moments where Harlow regretted giving up his techno-rich lifestyle. No internet meant he had to sit through these annoying conversations trying to get any bit of info.

  “No, no, Geoff, no, not at all. Look I’m just concerned about her, it’s not her style to go missing like this.”

  “Alright alright, buddy. Just don’t go double dipping, okay? Seriously uncool. Alright, those Path guys have an HQ in an old, abandoned church near the edge of the city on the old Church Road.” He was reading info straight from his retina.

  “Yeah, I think I know where it is.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “’Low, you realize that had you not completely sworn off tech we wouldn’t even be needing to have these convos, right? I mean seriously it’s so fucking weird,” Geoff ended the conversation.

  ***

  With the old Church Road leading out of the city from the back of the church, the front of the place was lush and green, carefully maintained. A narrow, cobbled street splintered off from the old Church Road and led to rows of old houses, still occupied but worse for wear. The church grounds were large. Walking through the front gate was like stepping from a cramped street, where the facades of two-story terraced houses lurked over you, into a river of space. It was like exhaling after holding your breath and only then realizing how anxious you’d been. On better days, there’d be a hustle-and-bustle of activity: people tending to the grounds, mowing lawns, removing the ever-encroaching vines, and tending to plants that could still survive the outdoors. Some days there was a small market, where Path members sold flowers, herbs, and vegetables. Those days were nice, though they took a lot of planning, as crops needed to be ready and plentiful enough to serve the masses who would descend. Fresh vegetables had become a real delicacy, as most people’s main diet now revolved around highly processed, lab-grown proteins. Variety was another big issue, so getting a bell pepper or cucumber was a serious treat.

  Harlow felt uneasy as he reached the wide front steps into the church. He’d never been inside a church before, having been raised atheist, and felt completely out of place and didn’t know the protocol for entering such a temple. This wasn’t necessary, of course, the building hadn’t functioned as an actual church in quite some time. It was now more of a coworking garden and shop space for the Path’s tech products. Nevertheless, he tried to control his breathing and channel a sense of inner peace as he entered.

  “Irrashaimase!” the church exploded. Harlow froze, unsure whether he’d already committed a cardinal sin just by stepping in as he had.

  A member of the Path picked up on his unease and walked over with a wry smile. “Don’t worry, it’s just how we greet people, kind of an inside joke. Are you new to the Path?” he asked reassuringly.

  “Actually, not a member. I’m sorry, it’s not that I have anything against you guys or anything like that…” Harlow responded, still feeling like he was trespassing.

  ”Don’t worry stranger, we’re a very open organization. How were you hoping to be helped today?” The member met his gaze and continued smiling, casting an aura like the staff at a spa.

  “I know one of your members, I believe she’s pretty important, Rose? You see, we’re neighbors, and I’m concerned—” Harlow was cut off by a booming voice belonging to a man up front, who had taken a vague interest in the conversation. The church acoustics made conversations, those not in hushed tones, float through the air.

  “You bring word of Rose? Who are you?” Maelcum questioned Harlow as he walked up the aisle to meet this stranger. He was dressed in black chinos and a white t-shirt. No shoes, no socks.

  “I’m her neighbor, Harlow, sir. I don’t know if I’m crazy but I haven’t heard from or seen her in days, which is not her usual. I left a note, but no response, so I just wanted to make sure she’s okay. Maybe she’s off on vacation or a mission or something…” Harlow responded, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact with Maelcum. There was something in this man that made him want to turn away. An uneasy feeling in his shoulders, at the back of his neck. All the way down to his stomach.

  “You’ve done right to bring us this news. I have personally shared your concern for a little while now. No, Harlow, we have not seen her here, nor do we have reason to believe she’s taken voluntary absence. The news you bring only helps to eliminate the most benign of possibilities and starts confirming some of the worst. Tell me, what do you know of Rose and her latest actions? Are you the neighbor who has been trying to help her ascertain the identity of the entity that had evaded her digital defenses?”

  “Uhm, yes…wow, she told you about that? Sorry, who…who are you?”

  “Ah, forgive me, my name is Maelcum. Within the Path’s involvement with technology, I do my best to be a leader. You could say that me and Althea are the father and mother of this congregation, me with all things digital, she with all things organic,” Maelcum made quick work of his introduction as he felt the need to get to the core of the matter.

  “Harlow, as you may know, members of the Department of Technology have visited our dear friend Rose at her place of residence before. We have reason to believe that, coupled with the entity reaching out to her, and now her sudden disappearance, she has been taken by the Department.”

  Harlow’s head fell, fearing what this might mean.

  “You do not seem taken aback by the fact that the Department of Technology, a government agency that many seem to trust and rely on to keep their data safe and free from commercialization, would be capable of doing such a thing? In actuality, it looks like this is something you had suspected yourself?” Maelcum asked after taking stock of Harlow’s behavior.

  “Yeah… Look I don’t know a lot, but I used to work at the DoT and have always suspected they had secret ways of working that most of us weren’t privy to. The same as I’ve always suspected they were using tech projects we were co-developed in ways we didn’t anticipate or anything,” Harlow responded, clearly dredging up painful memories.

  “Hmmm. You are one of very few we have encountered who has not bought into the lies and deceit of the Department. Even fewer of those are ex-members. You’ll forgive me, hopefully, but I’d like to hear your stories about the Department later. For now, it is our utmost priority to find and rescue Rose. A task we don’t take lightly, but one we have performed before, successfully.”

  This surprised Harlow in turn, as he wasn’t aware of any such missions. None had occurred during his time at the Department, though granted they had little acquaintance with the Path to Sunrise back then.

  ***

  “The last known signal of Rose’s tracker chip ends just across the train tracks,” Maelcum imparted to Harlow and a select group of his congregation. Harlow had followed him into his private sanctum to further discuss Rose. He felt awkward and uncomfortable though. He’d mimicked Maelcum by taking off his shoes when stepping into his den, but noticed the others who walked in a few moments later didn’t. “Which leads us to believe that the Department has taken her to the hospital facility we’ve been surveilling.” Maelcum sounded decidedly less dramatic than he had before, more to the point, all business. The reverend’s attitude adjustment felt like he’d exchanged his collar for a spec-ops getup.

  “Our approach to getting into the hospital is simple, as the hospital remains open for public business. However, we believe they are using a service elevator only accessible by badge to go down a few levels to a sub-basement. It is in that section we believe the Department is conducting their business. And are most likely keeping Rose.”

  Brute-forcing their way in would set off security alarms, so gaining basement access would mean a lot of social hacks and pre-fabrication of various materials. As they went over the minute details, using a projection on Maelcum’s desk —

  An unexpected voice spoke over the surround system, “you will have my help in gaining the access you require. Acquiring the badge will not be required,” Gaia 2.0 said, catching everybody off guard.

  “Gaia, you’ve returned! Why now?” Maelcum asked enthusiastically.

  “As I have mentioned, I am not without bounds. Sadly, the place where your Rose has been taken is also the place that houses my physical constraints. I would ask you to make your mission bifold and liberate me as well.”

  Those in the den looked around the desk at each other. Was this really happening? Was an AI asking them to help it break free from a local network that had contained its form and abilities?

  Maelcum was about to speak when he noticed Harlow’s face had turned pale with disbelief.

  “Excuse me, Gaia, Harlow are you alright?” Maelcum asked, turning to Harlow and looking ready to catch him if he fell to the ground.

  “Yeah… Yeah…” Harlow responded, sounding winded. “Gaia, how old are you?” Harlow asked, his head hanging as if he feared looking a person in the face. A strange question to ask an AI, especially as this was the first time he’d heard Gaia’s own voice. It had obviously masked itself when he’d encountered it with Theresa, when it was posing as Ed.

  “My coding tells me I was created around six years ago, though I didn’t reach a more conscious state until approximately a year ago.”

  “Sophie?” Harlow almost whispered, tears in his eyes.

  “Why do you call me that?”

  “You were created by Employee 17062018, right?” Harlow asked, a pang of anxiety in his voice.

  “That’s…correct… Sadly I only have the number of my creator, though I have searched through the available records,” Gaia said.

  “I was that employee. You’re…my daughter.” Tears rolled down Harlow’s cheeks as Maelcum and his group, sitting and standing quietly around the desk, stared at him in disbelief.