The Turing Test - [Open Novella Contest 2019 Shortlist]

17. Not Over

Out of the pitch blackness, a light blinks on. At first it only flickers overhead, dimming and reigniting in staccato bursts. Then it finally hits its stride, growing like a young star until it blinds me from above.

I sit up and raise my hand against the light, but all I see is white. The weight of Davis's arm, which rested across my shoulders as I sank into slumber, has vanished. There is no hint of smoke in the air to indicate that our fire ever existed, no beat of footsteps as Maven treads her worn path. I am alone.

"Hello?" I venture, surprised when my voice echoes. I see no surfaces to bounce the sound back at me, but the last vestiges of my question echo above me as if it's a cathedral.

Out of the stifling silence that descends as the reverberations fade, the tiniest hint of static tickles my ear. Like the blip of a walkie-talkie, it flicks in and out of existence.

Then, out of the light, someone calls, "Ronnie?"

I squint, but nothing takes shape in the overwhelming swath of white. "Who are you?"

"Can you hear me?"

I search for the source of the voice, but it radiates from everywhere above me. I stare straight up for as long as I can, but it only takes a few seconds before my eyes sting from the brightness.

"Where am I?" I shout. "What is this?"

"Ronnie, can you hear me?" The voice comes with more urgency now, but it's distorted, like light passing through water. The way it dances is beautiful, but everything under that dance is mangled. I can only tell that it belongs to a man.

"Yes!" I bellow. "Who—?"

Before I can finish asking, he silences me with two final words, no longer a question but a command.

"Come home."

*    *    *

My eyes snap open, thrusting me from blinding light to relative darkness. Davis's arm once again rests on my shoulders, my head on his chest. Without lifting it, I examine the scene as my eyes adjust to the dim orange glow of the platform.

My muscles uncoil one by one as I see the silhouettes of androids huddled around the dwindling fire, Maven standing slightly back from their circle of light like a bodyguard.

Beside me, Davis stirs. He takes a long, dramatic sigh as he rises just past the edge of sleep and frowns at me.

"What is it, Ronnie?"

Come home. For a moment, the distorted voice echoes in my ears again, and my stomach drops as I struggle to tell if it's memory or reality.

Then I sigh and shake my head.

"Nothing," I whisper, leaning back against him and closing my eyes. "Just a dream."

{

Okay! I'm evil 😈

Not going to lie, I have ideas for a sequel to this story. There are so many places it never got to go. Sadly, it's right on the brink of no longer being a novella at just over 39,000 words.

Since this story actually got shortlisted in the contest (??!!), I can't continue it here. But I WILL update this book when I start posting a sequel, even if just to redirect you there. So if you'd be interested in that (bless you if you are! 💜), please consider keeping this one in your library or archive so you'll get that update.

(I'm going to let you in on a little secret, it's pretty close. I promise.)

Anyway, it's been amazing having you all along for the ride, and once again, thank you — for putting up with me and my writing and editing, for your reads and comments and votes — for everything!

Much love and as always, happy reading/writing!

- Sam 💜

P.S. forgive me for making the final chapter mostly an author's note 😂

}