Outside the front gates lay a long black hov, parked on the ground in front of the shining mag-road track that stretched for miles beyond the vast hills decorated with the forests and wildflowers that kept the institution hidden, the moors providing them with fertile soil, watered by the constant rain.

  One of my old escape plans involved living off the berries in the woods, making use of the infinite hiding spaces the forests provided, but like usual, I didn’t get that far.

  Besides, a voice from behind reminded me exactly why I should be patient. We would be free without hiding. Just not today.

  “I hope you weren’t planning on running away.”

  “No, it’s just,” I turned to her, “I’ve never been outside the gates before.”

  “Ah, of course.” She tried so hard to look sympathetic. Her brows furrowed so much they were practically touching and her eyes shone like she’d seen a wounded puppy. It was a convincing performance, don’t get me wrong, but if she had any sympathy in her heart at all she never would’ve become director of the institutions. I wasn’t surprised when the expression quickly vanished and she gestured to the hov. “I’ll meet you back at the Estate. Goodbye for now. Oh, and you won’t be the only Relegate from Vocafeum on the project.”

  I followed her arm to where a chauffeur was standing at an open door, and peered inside.

  The seats were covered with soft leather, with generous leg room and a table going across the width of the hov in front of them.

  A woman sat in the far end. Thin brown hair fell over her eyes and the bags beneath them.

  That face… I knew that face. Those were the eyes that searched for a caring hand when the wardens dragged her away for being short on her work quota. The reason I had to wear the mask.

  I hopped inside, waving a polite farewell to Shirley before facing my new companion.

  “I’m Ayla,” I held out a hand, “Nice to meet you.”

  “I know who you are,” she said, and shook it weakly, “I’m Rolene. So tell me, what did your valiant attempt to defend me cost you?”

  “That’s not important,” I said, shaking my head. And it was true. This woman didn’t need to know the price I’d paid. At least she was alive, even if it wasn’t because of me. She pursed her lips, unsatisfied with my answer.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Alright,” I said slowly, “Well, it was some kind of mask, designed to make it hard to breathe through, and I had to keep my head upright when I wore it. But it was only for a day… and a half.”

  “Would you do it again?”

  “Yes. A thousand times. I refuse to let injustice go unchallenged, even if it ultimately wins.”

  She rolled her eyes as far as she could.

  “Spare me. And don’t expect me to repay the favour.”

  I wanted to tell her I expected no such thing but she’d also asked me to spare her so… I shut my mouth and didn’t say a word. I’d been told on more than one occasion I could be a lot, and didn’t fancy pushing my luck quite yet with my new friend.

  The window rolled up and the hov started with a low thrumming as current began to flow around the magnets on its base, the magnetic repulsion from the mag-road forcing it to rise further and further up until we were several metres off the ground.

  Not even my dreams could have prepared me for the sensation of weightlessness, of the complete freedom of floating through the air, like a bird breaking free from gravity, seeing the world like I’d never seen it before.

  The dark moors changed when seen from above, the bird’s eye view allowing access to a different perspective, bringing together the many different kinds of flowers that hugged the hills to form swathes of different colours.

  The rolling green hills I was used to eventually disappeared, replaced slowly by the odd house, then by tiny villages, growing into towns with more and higher buildings.

  I turned to a machine in between the driving and passenger seat, clicking on a button that contained an image of a cup being filled. It beeped to life, displaying holographic images of at least a hundred drinks.

  “Are we allowed to try these?” I asked the driver.

  He kept his focus on the road and said nothing.

  I kept swiping, going through coffees, teas, hot chocolate, all drinks I’d heard of but never tasted, until I came to one labelled ‘blueberry milkshake’ underneath an image of a light purple drink topped with whipped cream.

  I pressed the button as gears whirred to life behind the control panel, hissing and spinning until a compartment at the bottom of the machine opened like palace gates to reveal a tall glass filled with the option I’d chosen, accompanied by a red-and-white striped straw.

  I drained the glass in seconds, a huge mistake, it turned out, as my brain froze over. Sharp pain shooting up into my skull so hard it was still singing hours later when Langlia, the capital city of Saxanglain, rose up on the horizon.

  The midday sun shone directly on top of it like a spotlight at the theatres Ramya had told me made up most of the cultural scene in the Shining City.

  The city almost commanded as much attention.

  White buildings were built to the sky to accommodate as many people as possible. Rigid and square in their architecture, but still beautiful, hard to turn away from as shades of gold, silver and bronze lit up under the sun’s flattering light.

  Mag-roads converged into the city to create a network of veins running through its main body which we used to get to its heart, twisting through the building blocks of the city, the hov a well-trained rat in a maze, until the skyscrapers started to melt away, getting smaller and smaller as we entered a luscious park, full of shrubbery, with the mag-road running right through its center, blocked only by a large silver gate.

  Soldiers dressed in blue and silver checked the driver’s papers. With a nod, the gate shuddered open, and it was then that we got our first view of the Estate.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  It was only a tiny speck but the building grew bigger and bigger, every feature and detail etched on to its shiny exterior coming into view as we descended closer to the mag-road, and travelled the path leading up to it.

  Colossal columns lined the front of the symmetrical white building, and glossy, navy double doors marked the main entrance, towering several metres tall with steps running away from them towards a marble fountain shaped like an angel in the front courtyard. It spouted water into a basin lined with white and blue flowers, which led to a path lined with silver birch trees running along the mag-road we’d come from.

  The chauffeur opened the door for the both of us, and it was all I could do to gush a thank you as I stared at the intricate carvings that swirled at the top of the columns to the rectangular windows that spanned the height of entire floors. Even Rolene’s mouth hung open at the sheer vastness of it all. The Estate would have rather been called a palace.

  Before I could admire it any further, the gravel of the courtyard crunched in time as a tribe of guards approached us, lead by none other than the director herself.

  “Welcome to your new home,” she beamed with her arms stretched out, almost ready to embrace us.

  Her dress sparkled with silver lines of sequins swirling and glinting in the sunlight, matching her sparkling demeanour.

  “If you’ll come this way please, there’s so much to do. My husband would like to apologise for not being here, he’s so very busy at the moment.”

  “Who’s your husband?” I asked, then distracted myself with the floor as several guards snapped their heads in my direction.

  “Chancellor John Endavell,” she replied, “He initially planned the project but he’s given some of the responsibility to me, so I’m here to take care of you all while he’s indisposed. The Relegates from the other institutions are waiting inside.”

  All the guards, Shirley, and even Rolene kept walking as if she hadn’t dropped a city-sized bomb.

  “Wait but that would make you…”

  “The most powerful woman in the country. Quite right, now keep up please.”

  The diamond jewellery she wore, which had looked dainty and elegant on first meeting her, appeared sharper, more dangerous. I felt silly for acting so casually before.

  We didn’t go through the main entrance, instead we went through a side door, not quite as large but still up to the standards the front had set.

  Holographic images guided the way further into the Estate, all framed in silver, shifting now and then from ancient kings posing victorious against the backdrop of bloodied battlefields to old black and white photos of pilots standing proudly next to their aircrafts.

  We turned through multiple corridors, making lefts and rights so often I lost my bearings, until luckily Shirley stopped outside a lift with silver doors and a giant dial at the top, which I guessed was for indicating what floor it was currently on.

  “You may leave us,” Shirley commanded the guards.

  “But ma’am,” one of them protested, “We’re not supposed to leave the participants unguarded.”

  “I’m well aware, but I think it’ll be fine. They wouldn’t be stupid enough to throw away their last chance at life now, would they?”

  She gave a pointed look to the two of us. I tried not to fidget under the gaze of her amber eyes bearing down on me.

  The guards gave a quick salute and went on their way, leaving the three of us to comfortably enter while keeping a fair distance.

  It brought us to the top floor, and as we stepped out, Shirley turned left with silent footsteps on the navy carpeted floor, stopping at another silver door.

  “Welcome to my favourite room.” She gestured for us to go inside with an easy smile. “If you ever need me, chances are I’ll be in here.”

  A massive telescope poked out of a circular window in the roof to get an unobstructed view of the stars.

  Chemicals of all different colours bubbled and fizzed when machines mixed them together. Brain scans were hung up across lines that hung from the ceiling, lit up in green, yellow and orange and tables and chairs pushed back to the side to make space for the fifty or so occupants, who all turned around as we entered.

  I glanced at their wrists, at the numbers to see what institutions they were all from.

  There was a man with WL for Willbrook. That one was the closest to Langlia. Another started with VV for Vivera. I had no idea where that was, but I’d heard it was worse than Vocafeum. I didn’t know any of the others.

  Rows and rows of staff in navy scrubs came out through a separate door at the opposite end of the room, lined up in an orderly fashion, taking up the whole room as they integrated with the crowd.

  “Now, don’t mind the servants,” said Shirley, “But they are going to be taking hair and blood samples from each of you for our records.”

  As each servant found their pairing, she continued talking.

  “My husband’s designed the project in three stages. Survive. Hide. Thrive. Stage one tests your intelligence and physical abilities. Or your ability to survive among Customs. You see the pattern, yes?”

  I smirked. Relegates had been surviving Customs for decades.

  My mind wandered for the thousandth time since I left to Niles.

  When I became a Custom, I’d find a way to get him out, and we’d learn the secrets of the world together, make something of it.

  I could learn about the stars, and why the chemicals changed colours and fizzed, what each light on a brain scan meant. And he’d find love like he told me he always wanted to and run a survivalist camp and teach people all his favourite songs around a fire. And we’d be happy.

  A pluck at my scalp brought me out of my daydream and I turned to see one of the staff holding a short blonde hair. My hair.

  The man holding it sported his own head of immaculately combed strawberry locks and freckles. Only, he wasn’t a man at all.

  His skin was smooth like porcelain, and his eyes didn’t quite focus. They were brown and glassy. Synthetic.

  “You’re a-”

  “I am Ganymede,” he interrupted, “I am your designated android meant to serve you while you grow accustomed to life at the Estate.”

  He placed my hair in a tube and pulled out a needle.

  “I have been instructed to take a blood sample. You may feel a slight pinch.”

  True to his word, the needle pricked as it entered, but I was used to needles by now, thanks to being an experimental pin-cushion at the institution, so I stayed silent, and allowed the android to do his job as my blood flowed through the tube, turning it from clear to red, into a labelled vial.

  Ganymede then thought to pat me on the head, probably some programmed feature but still, I held in a giggle at the odd gesture.

  “There, there. It’s almost over,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I replied as he removed the vial, and tried my best to make conversation, “So, do you like working here?”

  “I am an android.” He placed the samples inside a small bioplastic bag, his face set like stone, “I do not have opinions, I am meant to serve.”

  “Come on, I won’t tell anyone,” I prodded, looking for any sign of humanity beneath the code and wires.

  In the olden days there were many stories of androids growing feelings, becoming resentful of their masters and taking over the world. Ramya had told me a few of the most popular ones and Niles had made up his own. Perhaps that day would still come, but I found it odd people’s first thoughts turned to violence when they imagined an android gaining humanity. Surely violence was the most inhumane thing of all, better suited to animals and beasts. From what I’d seen, the day people let anger, fear and hatred control their actions and hurt others was the day they lost their humanity.

  “No,” he said with all the non-chalance you’d expect from a robot, “Thank you for your cooperation. I will return your samples to the primary lab and then escort you to your room.”

  He walked away with all the other androids in perfect unison, all carrying similar bags full of samples, back through the door they came from at the other end of the room, hidden by the giant telescope.

  “The evening is free for all of you to get used to your new surroundings,” Shirley explained, “When the androids return, they will escort you to your rooms and help you get your bearings around the Estate. Lights out will be at ten pm but you’re not expected to leave your rooms after nine. I’m afraid your schedule from the institutions still applies, along with the same repercussions for breaking the rules.”

  I didn’t know how anyone could sleep after today. There was so much to do, so much to explore. A whole new world had been opened up to me, an eternal moment waiting to be seized.

  The androids eventually returned and led the project participants away in a production line. Ganymede stood to attention in front of me before gesturing to the exit. I glanced at the door behind the telescope that he’d appeared from moments earlier.

  “Does that lead to the primary lab?” I asked as he ushered me out, but Ganymede just shook his head.

  “The location of the primary lab is classified information.”