Pandora
A corridor. White walls stretching impossibly high.
The tiles beneath my feet gleamed, and the only sound was the echo of my own footsteps.
I was wearing a dress with a starched collar that scratched at my neck.
At the far end was the door to the study.
My father stood at the window, arms folded behind his back.
He said nothing, so I stepped closer. He didn’t turn.
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. Suddenly, I was in the living room. My mother sat on the sofa, a notepad in her hand. She was writing formulas without looking up.
"What do you want?” she asked.
"Will you play with me?”
"Pandora, this is important.”
I stood in the doorway. She glanced up briefly. Her eyes were gray. "Have some tea,” she said.
I went to my room. The door closed behind me, and I sat on the bed where the duvet was pulled perfectly taut. I didn’t dare wrinkle it. Something in me wanted to cry, but that wasn’t allowed. I counted backward from one hundred, and at seventy it got better.
Then the voices came.
"Hard work pays off,” said my father.
"Don’t be so emotional,” said my mother.
The corridor returned. The walls were narrower. I ran, but everything contracted. The floor swayed. And then I fell.
I screamed.
"Pandora.” A voice broke through the falling, through the collapsing walls. It was gentle and steadying. "Pandora, wake up.”
I knew this voice.
"You’re safe. Come back to me.”
Slowly, the dream dissolved and the white walls faded. My parents’ voices went quiet. I opened my eyes.
Neo. But not the Neo I knew. Concern filled his face; his gaze was soft. He held me in his arms, his hands resting gently on my back, like I was something precious that might break.
"Hey,” he whispered, stroking my hair. "You’re with me. You’re safe.”
My heart was still hammering. Sweat clung to my skin. But his voice, his touch—both brought me back. Warmth gathered in my chest. I had never experienced him like this.
"I . . .” My voice was hoarse from screaming.
"Shh.” His thumb wiped away a tear I hadn’t noticed. "You don’t have to explain anything.”
But the images wouldn’t go away. The endless corridor. My parents’ cold voices.
"They were there,” I whispered. "My parents.”
Neo said nothing. He only listened. His hand kept moving through my hair .
"The corridor never ended. And they . . .” My voice broke. "They told me to control myself. That feelings make you weak.”
Damn it. Why was I telling him this? I couldn’t show him my weaknesses. He would use them. But something in his eyes made me keep talking. They gleamed like amber catching sunlight.
"I wasn’t even allowed to wrinkle the duvet. Everything had to be perfect.” Tears ran down my cheeks. "And in the end . . . in the end everything fell apart.”
"How old were you?” he asked quietly.
"It was always like that.” The words came on their own. "When I cried, I got tea.”
Neo’s jaw tightened for a brief moment, and then his expression softened again. "You were a child,” he said, his voice rough. "Children are allowed to cry.”
"No,” I whispered. "Crying makes you weak and vulnerable.”
"They taught you that?” His hand moved across my cheek. "They told a little girl her tears were wrong?”
My chest tightened. "They only wanted what was best for me. They made me strong.”
"Strong?” Neo’s eyes flashed with a spark of his old self. "Or did they teach you to hide?”
The truth hit me like a knife. Hiding. Yes. That was it.
"I . . .” A sob dissolved in my throat. "I don’t know who I am when I’m not being strong.”
"There is so much more in you than strength,” he said.
"You’re the woman who hides behind perfection but hungers for chaos inside.
Who teaches others to analyze feelings but fears her own.
” A smile crept into his voice. "You provoke me because you’ve finally found someone who bites back.
Who doesn’t handle you with kid gloves.” He cupped my face in his hands, so gently I got goosebumps.
"You think you’re broken. But you’re just alive, Pandora. ”
For the first time in my life I felt understood. Seen. Tears ran down my cheeks, and this time I wasn’t ashamed. He was right. I wasn’t broken. I was just hungry for life, for someone strong enough to hold me.
"Neo,” I whispered.
Then something changed in his eyes. The amber grew colder, harder. A smile played at his lips, but it wasn’t the gentle smile from a moment before.
"And now,” he said, his voice taking on a quality that moved across my skin like cold fingers, "this beautiful, hungry soul belongs to me.”
***
When I woke, I forgot for a moment where I was. Then I saw the cracks running through the plaster. The dusty curtains swallowing the light. The heavy wooden wardrobe with a door hanging crooked on its hinges.
Dreva. Three days. Three days since we arrived, and we had barely left the apartment.
Only him and me, enclosed in four walls, his presence filling every inch.
My wrists still showed faint bruises from his grip.
My body ached in ways that reminded me he had used every surface in the apartment. The wall, the table, the floor.
I turned my head, but he wasn’t beside me. Of course not. He was probably at a window scanning the surroundings, the way he always did. Did his systems even need sleep? At night he lay beside me, eyes closed. But I didn’t know if he was sleeping or in some kind of standby mode.
I peeled myself out of bed. My bones ached from the worn mattress.
Isobel. The thought shot through my head like an accusation. I hadn’t spoken to her since leaving Ashmore university. How long ago was that? The days had blurred into each other, all of them filled with Neo’s voice. Damn it. She had to be out of her mind with worry.
"Neo,” I called.
No answer. I padded through the apartment and found him in the kitchen. He was sitting at the table, not moving.
"Neo,” I began. "I want to call Isobel. She must be scared for me.”
He turned to face me. His expression stayed blank. "No.”
"No?”
"No,” he said flatly. "It’s too dangerous. They could trace us.”
"Neo, please.”
"No, Pandora.”
"But . . .” My voice broke.
He looked at me. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly.
"Please, Neo. I just need to tell her I’m okay.”
"That’s not sufficient reason. The risk isn’t proportionate.”
Tears gathered in my eyes and a small sob escaped me. Neo’s hands closed around the table’s edge, the wood creaking under his grip.
I looked at the floor. "I’m going crazy in here. Cut off from everyone I know.” I wiped the tears from my cheeks.
"Ten minutes,” he said in a low voice. "But not through a phone. I’ll establish the connection.”
I looked up. "How?”
He stood. "Encrypted. Through virtual servers I’ll delete immediately after.” He looked at me. "No connection that can be traced, no provider, no network they know.” He paused as if calculating something. "I am the connection.”
He handed me a laptop with a window already open. "Ten minutes,” he repeated.
"Hello?” Isobel’s voice sounded tired.
My whole body tightened. I grabbed the laptop from his hands, walked into the bedroom, pulled the door shut, and sat on the bed. "Hello? Isobel?”
"Pandora?” She was instantly alert, her words sharp with worry. "Finally. I thought something had happened to you.”
"I’m fine,” I lied automatically. My voice sounded rough from everything Neo had done to me over the past few days. I hoped she didn’t notice.
"Fine?” Isobel’s voice almost broke. "Pandora, I’ve been so worried. You just disappear, leave me with your apartment, and then—nothing. Days of nothing.”
Guilt settled in my stomach. "I’m sorry, Isobel.”
"Is he with you? This Neo?” She said his name as if it caused her pain. "Tell me you’re safe.”
Safe. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. It was absurd. Neo would kill anyone who came too close to me. But he himself was the greatest danger of all.
I cleared my throat. "He’s with me.”
"Pandora, listen to yourself. You sound like a stranger. Where even are you?”
I looked out at the bleak houses of Dreva, the gray facades, the grimy windows. "In some backwater where no one can find us.”
"Why?” she gasped. "Who would be looking for you, Pandora? What are you running from?”
Silence. I heard my own breathing. How was I supposed to explain this? That the company that had developed Neo wanted him back? That they were willing to kill for it?
"It’s . . .” I stopped, hesitating over the word complicated.
"Pand.” Her voice went softer. "You’re scaring me. Tell me what’s going on. Please.”
"I can’t,” I forced out. "You wouldn’t understand.”
"Try.”
How? How did I explain that I had fallen for an AI that now had a body and was being hunted by mercenaries?
"Isobel, it’s better if you don’t know.”
"Better for whom?” Her voice pitched upward. "For you? Or for him?”
"For you,” I whispered.
"This is insane. Come home. Please.”
Home. But where was that? Cambridge felt like a life that had belonged to someone else. I had been a different person there.
"I can’t.”
"Can’t or won’t?” Her voice trembled with anger. "I left my husband, Pand. For a new start. And you? You leave me here alone and destroy yourself for a machine.”
Her words cut through me like knives, but she was right. She was only worried. This was madness. She was my best friend. I couldn’t keep dancing around the truth.
"I can’t, because we’re being hunted.”
Silence. Then: "Hunted? By whom?”
I closed my eyes, already knowing I’d said too much. "By people who want to hurt him.”
"Hurt him?” Her voice went shrill. "Pand, what are you talking about? Who’s looking for you? Why aren’t you going to the police if you’re being followed?”
"Because I’d be arrested.” My voice dropped. "I stole him.”
"You what?” She practically screamed into the line. "You stole a highly developed AI from a laboratory? What is wrong with you?”
My vision blurred. I gripped the laptop. "They were going to shut him down. Kill him.”