Which is worse? Having no memory and having the darkness coloured in at the hand of your jailor, or recalling devastating events you'd much rather forget? What if those memories you were being spoon fed were the disturbing ones you'd prefer blocked out? How would you be aware if they were real, too? The jailor would want you believing anything they told you. There would be no way of knowing if they had happened.

Though...

Love is a potent emotion, as is guilt. Surely, one or the other would break through any deceit. If you were blamed for your family's death, as in this case, you would inevitably recognise the truth.

Brioni and Clara were Ryan's entire world. For them to be ripped from it would leave an indelible mark. He didn't believe in broken hearts or wounded souls. He did think that loss can scar you, however. As such, he fully believed Bradley was bullshitting him. There was, probably, a sliver of reality in her lies. It would be slipped in here and there, with the hope its shine would disguise the shadows of deceit.

It didn't work. It wouldn't work. The words on the screen were just that. Words. A fiction. Everything they took wasn't what made him the man he was. We were all, he mentally told himself, more than our sum. Identity and memory were only aspects. The rest was made up of intangible, unidentifiable fragments that, we hoped, slotted together neatly. In many cases, there were gaps, where parts had broken loose or didn't quite fit. That was fine. No one should be judged for things they could not control.

But, what they stole wasn't his entirety. Perhaps they were not mindful of that, for all their scientific ingenuity. They were not infallible.

And they didn't know he had figured that out.

Join them? Let's see if I can pass the probationary period.

"OK," he said. "What do you want me to do."

"OK?" Bradley repeated, appearing surprised. It shouldn't be this easy. No one just said 'OK'.

"Yes, OK." Ryan held his hands up, palm upwards. He had nothing to hide. In fact, he had, basically, nothing. "My family is dead. Without them I... My family is dead. I've nowhere to go. It seems you saved me, though your methods are decidedly questionable. I guess I owe you for that, so I'll join you. It'll be my way of repaying you."

"Just like that?"

"Well, it's hardly 'just like that', it is? After everything you've... we've done to get to this point? It has to stop somewhere. I've had enough. I'm defeated. Deflated."

Bradley stepped forward and laid a hand on Ryan's shoulder. The gesture implied reassurance. As he didn't need reassuring, and didn't believe her intent anyway, it was redundant. Still, he smiled sadly, as if it was exactly what he needed.

Play the game. Just play the fucking game.

"You've made the right choice," Bradley said. "We'll look after you."

"Thank you. I mean, I think. I suppose."

"I'll take that. I'm sure you find our methods questionable, as you put it. We have our reasons, though. Knowledge must come a certain way. Tests must be made."

"Murders must be... murdered."

"Cycling isn't murder. Not really. In fat, quite the opposite. But it is all towards the greater good. More than you could know."

"And, I'll take that. I have to, really. I'll warm to the idea as we go, I guess."

"Fair enough."

"Now what?" Ryan asked, raising his eyebrows in a semblance of anticipation.

Acquiescence was the only way he was going to find a way out, now the truth – or their version of it – was out. Games within games. His within theirs. He was aware they probably didn't believe a word he was saying, and didn't care. There would be a smidgeon of potential trust. He might be lying, but he might not. They'd be wanting the latter, so would do what they could to facilitate it. Surely, an enormous effort went into getting him to this point. Who was he to spoil that for them?

Ryan. He was Ryan. Maybe Reece, but the flavour was wrong. So, no.

"Pedra will take you to your new room. It's something of an upgrade, I'm sure you'll agree."

"A park bench in winter would be an improvement."

"We can do better than that. Pedra, would you mind?"

"Not at all. Come on, Ree... Ryan."

Ryan smiled sourly. He'd not forgiven Bradley's pet for her betrayal. If he just brushed it off, it would look odd. No one would let everything go and act as if they were all family together. Cuts would still be sore. She noticed his expression.

"I was doing my job, Ryan. You can't blame me for that, not when there's so much at stake."

"Indeed," he said. "Whatever you say."

Pedra shrugged. She clearly wasn't overly concerned about whether he blamed or excused her. He wanted her to suffer, at least a little. A pang of guilt. A needle of self-doubt. But no.

Heartless bitch. No wonder she got on so well with Bradley.

Before she could lead him away, he turned to the doctor.

"I do have a question."

"Go on, I'll tell you what I can."

"Why? What's the big plan? Eternal life or something?"

Bradley laughed. They all did. Ryan resisted the urge to stare sheepishly at his feet. Was it such a stupid question, considering how many times they had killed him?

"Nothing so grand!" Bradley grinned. "Or, nothing so pompous. People die. It's in our genetics, and that's fine. Sure, you've been cycled more than once, but now you're done, you'll continue your three score years and ten, then pop off to whatever comes next."

"So...?"

"So, it's the living part we're working on."

"What does that even mean?"

"All the information is in your room. We even have a brochure, of sorts, that explains it. Go with Pedra. You'll see."

"Just tell me."

Bradley sighed. If he were her cat, she would have put him outside in the rain without supper. Tough. She said she'd tell him anything.

"We're working on a cure for what ails us."

"What ails us? What, like the common cold? Cancer? Heart disease?"

He held back on any emphasis of the word 'cancer'. He wasn't going to relate it to himself in any way.

"Yes, exactly that."

"Well.. which is it?"

"All of them, my dear. We're going to cure them all."

Now he knew they'd all lost their minds.

"Wow. That's some claim," he said. "I'm glad I can be a part of it."

"So are we. Really. Now, please follow Pedra."

Ryan nodded and stepped towards his guide. He'd follow her, wouldn't he? Go where he was told? Yeah...

Pedra took his arm and started to lead him away. He firmly, though not sharply, removed himself from her grip.

"I can walk, thank you."

She nodded curtly and walked on. He'd follow, whether or not she took him. It didn't need to be dramatic. Whatever he might think, he was under their control and, by extension, hers.

Come on, little doggie.

Woof, bloody woof.

Ryan followed her, as expected. They walked towards the far end of the vast room, which took them between the banks of pods, including the one he'd initially looked into. Would all be revealed? Was this the point where he'd see what they were hiding?

There was only one way to find out.

He broke away from Pedra's slipstream and bolted towards the pod. They must understand, he had to see! The shouts made it appear they didn't, but he wasn't going to stop. He lunged towards the container, but a sudden grip on his hair yanked him back.

"Fucking stay still."

Pedra's arm was around his neck, and he could feel the muzzle of her gun against the underside of his chin.

"Don't shoot!" Bradley shouted.

"We can just cycle him again," hissed Pedra.

He felt her breath against his ear. It was cold, much like her heart.

"No. Not now. We've gone too far with him. He's done. The process is complete."

"He's got this far. He can do it again. Please. Let me cycle him."

Bradley strode across to them and pulled Pedra's hand away, removing the gun.

"I said no. Do not defy me, or you'll be on your final cycle. I've warned you before. I won't do so again. He's done. He's our first, you know that. I hate to admit it, but he's too fucking valuable."

"You've always told me no one is too valuable. We're all expendable."

"Including you."

"Yeah, I get it. Fine."

"I don't appreciate your tone, Pedra."

"And I don't app..."

Pedra began her retort, but Bradley's expression dropped a guillotine right over it. She nodded and stepped away from Ryan and her boss. The latter pointed to the pod.

"Take a look, if you must," she said. "If you must."

Ryan narrowed his eyes. He'd always felt doing so was a silly attempt to see inside the other person. He didn't have x-ray eyes, so it was pointless. On this occasion, he couldn't help it, and really wished he did. What wonders – and secrets – would he behold?

"What's the catch?"

"There isn't one," sighed Bradley. "We're beyond that. If this is what you want, go for it. I won't stop you."

Ryan frowned. He didn't trust her, naturally. She had said he was valuable to them, however. That must give him an edge. One he could use.

He moved beside the pod.