Chương 111: 7.13 No Return without Receipt or Label

2104: 04: 18: 10: 45: 00 The bell rang, signaling the end of UniLang. The screen of my tablet darkened as it automatically locked, a circle of bubbles spinning around for a second before resolving into a green check mark.

"All right, that's it everyone," Mrs. Dagema said.

"I'll share the results here next Friday, and until then: no homework." A cheer sounded from a few of the more energetic classmates – including Millie – causing the teacher to smile.

"Class dismissed, see you on Tuesday. And have a nice weekend everyone!" With that all the students rose, some hurrying off and away as quick as they could. Not because the bell had rung in the weekend, but rather the start of the 10: 45 to 11: 10 small break. As I packed my bag and slung it over my shoulder, "You nervous?" Amber asked me. Unlike the rest, the bell did signal the end of the school day for me, instead heralding the start of a whole new round of tests. The RAT test to be precise.

I answered, "I mean, yeah? But also… not really?" I was nervous for it, but not exceptionally so. The real weight behind the secret had always been the fact that it was a secret, and with it revealed, well, what was there to fear ultimately? It wasn't like Mad Android Syndrome was in a hurry to put me down, and both the Heroic Impulse and pseudo-Sam had quieted down since the episode during Geography. Amber skeptically raised her eyebrows.

"Really? The thing that's been eating you up for months is finally about to get resolved, and you're not nervous?"

"Not that nervous," I corrected.

"It was more the reactions from my mom, you guys and, you know, society at large that bothered me – and most of that has been dealt with." Except how Mom would take the truth, of course, but I didn't wish to bring that up again.

"Not… necessarily the outcome on its own – though that's there too, still." Besides the worry about Mom, it was the mixed anticipation and fear of the outcome that still made me nervous. There'd been reasonable challenges to my assertion that I was an android – DNA, chronovariance, the lack of physical alteration from my old medical records; the GAC, basically. But there were also reasonable counterarguments: the underground lab, Trojan Baker, the earthquake timing, the Heroic Impulse, etcetera.

Hell, come to think of it even the fact that Nth-Sight's power failed to properly simulate me was a mark against me being the real Samantha Pearsson.

"Really?" Amber sighed and leaned back, stretching her arms.

"I'd have thought you'd fear not being… you know?" While the students had left, it was better not to talk too openly about it. Besides, the teacher was still there, even if she wasn't really listening in.

"Or turning out to actually be one, either or." I opened my mouth to respond but was tackled and forced into a hug from behind.

"Good luck!" Millie shouted suddenly, right next to my ear. Behind her trailed Jolie and Saga.

"Oh God, I'm so nervous!"

"You'll text us the results, right?" Jolie asked. I pushed Millie off of me.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, faking annoyance at Jolie before turning to Millie.

"Did you have to scream into my ear?" She closed in but before she could do anything, Saga dragged Millie back by her collar.

"Jeeze, what's gotten into you?" I haven't seen her this annoyingly excited since she (and the rest of the Acolytes, and the Wardens) managed to convert Shadeveil to the light side.

"It's the nerves," Jolie said as Saga continued to wrangle a struggling Millie.

"She gets really annoying whenever she's anxious about something, and she's gotten really invested into the outcome of this for whatever reason. Not that the rest of us aren't, but not like… that." I shrugged.

"I don't mind." It was actually good that they weren't that invested. It signaled to me that regardless of what happened, we'd stay friends. Or so I'd like to think anyway. Amber snorted.

"She doesn't care at all," she told Jolie.

"Really?" Jolie asked me. Millie and Saga looked over in surprise as well.

"Of course I care," I said, glaring at Amber. She knew I did, even though whichever it ultimately ended up being, I wasn't… well, I was still extremely invested in the outcome, but…

"Girls!" Mrs. Dagema interrupted.

"Class is over. Time to go." We'd been talking for a couple of minutes by this point. Mrs. Dagema let us because she – and other teachers – knew I had an 'important medical appointment' to get to, so of course she'd let me talk with my friends for a bit. But it appeared her patience had limits. We walked out the class into the nearly-empty hallways. With my friends acting as escorts, we slowly made our way toward the school entrance where Mom was no doubt already waiting. I continued.

"Honestly, whichever one it turns out to be, I could take or leave." Regardless of which, the answer would have massive implications.

"One might have, like, more an effect on my surroundings – on you guys, on Mom, and, like, society or something – while the other's got more to do with my personal beliefs. So both still massive, but since I'll have to deal with it either way…" I shrugged.

"Really, it's Mom and how she'll take it I worry about the most, not so much myself." My friends entered a thoughtful silence, until, "Fair enough," Saga said with a shrug.

"C'mon!" Millie complained.

"I think this deserves more of a response than a 'fair enough'."

"What, so you want her to worry?" Saga asked.

"Or are you telling her we won't be friends wi-""Of course not!" Millie objected instantly.

"Then what're you complaining about?" Saga said.

"I just-! It's important, okay…" Millie crossed her arms sulkily, grumbling, causing Amber to laugh. As we went down two staircases and walked through the halls and the number of students grew, we turned our conversation to simpler things. When we arrived at the school's entrance, my friends gave quick hugs goodbye and I made my way to the parking lot. Mom was waiting for me by the car, leaning against it fake-casual while absolutely failing to control her restlessly-bouncing leg.

That, and she looked pale, unhealthily so. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. At my approach her lips formed a twitchy smile and she straightened.

"Ready to go?" She looked much more nervous than I. I considered saying something, but ultimately said, "Yeah," and threw my bag in the back of the car, entering it on the passenger side. We drove away and while Mom kept her eyes fixed on the road, I noticed her still bouncing her legs restlessly and biting her lips.

"…Are you okay, Mom?" I asked. She tried to suppress the jolt, but I could see through the façade. She smiled and moved to speak one reassurance or another, but before the words came out, she seemed to reconsider. Combing a hand through her short hair, Mom's smile vanished as she said, "No, Sam. I'm not."

"Oh," I said.

"It's… well, no, it obviously has something to do with you, but…" She sighed.

"It's okay, I understand."

"No, Sam. It's not-" She sighed.

"I said it out on the lake and again two weeks ago, and I meant it. I don't care what the results say, you are my daughter no matter what. Even- even if…" She trailed off and put her all into driving again. I nodded. I believed her, or rather, I believed that she believed what she was saying. And considering that Mom always seemed honest and, while (overly) critical of herself, was as steadfast as they come, I knew her word was as iron.

The worry wasn't that she'd kick me out or come to hate me or something, but rather that if I turned out to be an android and not the real Samantha Pearson our relationship would revolve fully, endlessly around a mess of guilt, stubbornness and grief. I believed – or at least hoped – that we could grow beyond that at some point, but… It wouldn't be pretty, but then again, I hadn't expected it to be.

X We were welcomed to the University of Washington's Ji-Barrows Research Hospital by three doctors (after lingering in the waiting room for about fifteen minutes) named Liang, Jones and Aguilar; the research lead and two assistants. They took us somewhere deep into the laboratory sections of the hospital.

"Welcome!" Doctor Liang announced jovially as she led us into the room, "to the Raadsburger Artificiality Test chambers!"

"Also known as the RAT maze," Doctor Aguilar said.

"Rats not included, of course." Doctor Jones rolled his eyes at his colleague.

"Indeed, indeed; no rats. No more than any medical lab should have, anyway," Doctor Liang said, nodding to herself as if she'd just said something profound.

"Which is zero." Doctor Jones again.

"That's objectively false," Doctor Aguilar said. Doctor Jones sighed.

"You know what I meant. Don't be glib." Doctor Liang stroked an imagined beard.

"My, there'd be nothing of her left if she did that." Mom chuckled shakily at the sight. Whatever this routine was, it seemed to have calmed her nerves somewhat; she'd been stiff as a board and sweaty-palmed by the time we entered the waiting room, and only got worse as time went on. As for the affectionately(?)-dubbed 'RAT Maze', it was a green-walled ten-by-fifteen meters test chamber filled with a dozen of the singularly weirdest devices, along with a hospital bed, a desk with a computer, and a number of comfortable-looking chairs. Even the strange green tiles – weirdly textured and wholly different from those of the rest of the hospital – looked to be special.

"It might not look it, but that's a machine too," Doctor Liang said, noticing me staring.

"Can be set to capture certain waves we don't want getting out."

"Or in," Doctor Jones added.

"Or in," Doctor Liang said with a nod.

"But let's get to the point: the Raadsburg Artificiality Test. Need a history lesson?" I shook my head. I already knew the tale of the Last City of Europe's twenty million people struggle against the very worst of its own citizens, the culture of paranoia that bloomed there, and many exoduses (exodi?) and deaths all but bleeding it dry before Chancellor Michelle took over, and Malcator after her.

"Then let's move to the procedure – and no, this one you can't skip," Doctor Liang said. She turned to her assistant.

"Take it away, Jones." The man nodded and pressed something on his tablet.

"The first series of tests will be familiar to you, as they're nearly identical to the General Authenticity Tests. First: a background check with questionnaires and an interview – all taken privately, of course." His eyes flitted to Mom for a split second before returning to his device.

"Then the standardized series of medical tests. DNA sequencing and comparison, image scanning, internal and external lidar photogrammetry, atemporal sedimentation buildup, figuring your position on the Molse-Moradi index, hormonal tracing and fluids sampling, etcetera. Later, during your overnight stay, we'll be performing a brain wave study while you sleep. Questions so far?" Mom and I looked at the other at the same time. She raised an eyebrow, leaving it up to me. I turned to Doctor Jones.

"I don't sleep." Doctor Jones froze, mouth partway open before reconsidering. He turned to his superior.

"We'll scrap the sleep study then," Doctor Liang decided after a brief pause.

"Though you'll still have to stay at the hospital for the night, I'm afraid." Doctor Jones nodded, and marked it on his tablet.

"The reason for your overnight stay is part of the second series of tests," he explained.

"While all the prior tests are made to exculpate the subject from breaching the first principle, the second are-""I'm sorry," Mom interjected.

"First principle?" Doctor Jones looked startled, his dark skin darkening ever so slightly. Doctor Aguilar laughed at the sight, but rather than tease her colleague, she turned to us.

"The Raadsburg Artificiality Test revolve around three basic pillars – or principles, as Jones said."

"Yes." Doctor Jones cleared his throat, regaining his poise.

"The first of which, and which the General Authenticity Test primarily focusses on, is the principle of authenticity."

"I. e.: you are who you say you are," Doctor Aguilar interpreted. Doctor Jones nodded.

"Indeed. The second is the principle of veracity."

"You are who you believe you are, and who you believe you are aligns with the outcome of the first principle," Doctor Aguilar said.

"An important pillar in your situation, and one that the General Authenticity Test deals with only partially. It also catches whether there is outside interference on the subject itself." Mom and I nodded in understanding. It might detect the Heroic Impulse and maybe even the presence of pseudo-Sam.

"The third," Doctor Jones continued, "is the principle of materiality." Doctor Aguilar grinned at that one.

"Which centers around the question of whether you exist at all."

"Whether I exist?" I questioned.

"It is extremely rare," Doctor Liang said, "but the Council of Raadsburg was nothing if not thorough. These tests mainly deal with mental effects on people surrounding the subject – observer interference, for short – along with whether you're a projection, called being, the avatar of extradimensional beings, or a similarly ethereal manner of existence."

"All of whom lack a certain… presence, or substantiality in the real world," Doctor Jones said.

"One that is hard to distinguish by sense and science alone, but can be detected through the application of certain maker machines and specialized powered professionals." Mom's expression was a bit odd and nodded absentmindedly, but I nodded with convictions. While I couldn't say I didn't exist, the so-called 'third principle' might help detect whether I was meant to be some puppet – or avatar – of the Heroic Impulse. Or pseudo-Sam, but that seemed even more unlikely.

Seeing no questions from our end, Doctor Jones continued, "Now, back to the-" Doctor Aguilar interrupted again, pretend-whispering in her colleague's ear, "You forgot about the secret fourth thing." Doctor Jones groaned.

"Fourth thing?" Mom asked.

"Technically, there is a fourth principle," Jones admitted with a sigh.

"Though it's not one any self-respecting scientist takes seriously."

"Speak for yourself," Doctor Aguilar said.

"I think it's, in fact, the most serious of all the principles." From her self-satisfied smirk I found that hard to believe. Doctor Jones refused to take the bait and point out the obvious.

"The fourth principle is the principle of…" A sigh.

"Of cosmogeny."

"The inverse of the principle of materiality," Doctor Aguilar said gleefully.

"Or to put it bluntly: nothing is real, except you." She pointed at me.

"Huh," Mom and I huh-ed at the same time. Doctor Liang was beaming from between her assistants.

"As I said, the Council of Raadsburg was nothing if not thorough. Or Chancellor Michelle was, at least."" Anyway," Doctor Jones said poignantly, "to get back to the point: the second range of tests focusses on the second and third principle primarily. The first half of which will be performed right here during the afternoon and evening." He gestured to the room.

"The second half is scheduled for earlier tomorrow, and is dependent on the outcome of the other tests."

"To be more specific, what we'll be doing today," Doctor Aguilar began, taking over for what I figured was her specialty, "is use a number of the devices to test you, some of which you see here." She gestured vaguely towards the room in its entirety, then walked up and patted a bi-antennaed, vacuum tube-bearing rectangle on a table.

"Like this thing: the Malfeasanic Interference Device – MID for short."

"Malfeasanic?" I asked.

"Like, malfeasance?"

"Doctor Malfus had a sense of humor when it came to his own name," Doctor Aguilar explained.

"Though the name is still apt; it caught many a shapeshifter trying to impersonate a Raadsburger government employee." So there was a machine that could strip away my forms like Deathride's flames? Huh. Good to know. Doctor Aguilar continued.

"Another device is the room itself." She walked up to the wall and tapped one of the bulbous green tiles with speckled relief.

"Depending on their arrangement – which we can change on the fly – these Ngameni-Lawson-Safri Pluritrometry Machines will be able to catch any and all kinds of exotic particle emissions and disrupt influxes of the same. So, say, if there was something telling you what to do at a certain point, we'll notice." I shuffled awkwardly in place. Marianne, Mom and I had together made a package to be sent to her contact for the application of the RAT.

We hadn't skimped on details for obvious reasons, but it felt strange for people I didn't really know to know my most dearly held secret. And from the look on Mom's face, she wasn't that pleased about it either. Doctor Liang noticed.

"A bit of tact please, Aguilar," she said.

"Your tract might resemble that of an engineer over that of a resident, but that is no reason to skimp on bedside manners." Despite keeping the same jovial tone, there was a serious warning underneath it. Doctor Aguilar flushed and said, "Sorry."

"Not to me," Doctor Liang said. The assistant turned to Mom and I.

"Sorry," she said.

"I got a bit carried away there. My intention wasn't to make light of your situation, but my comment was inappropriate. For that, I apologize." After a second, "It's fine," Mom said. I nodded in agreement. Doctor Aguilar sent us a grateful smile and cleared her throat.

"So. Devices aside, tomorrow we'll have two superpowered coming along aid us with the final tests – mentalists, to help map out what they call your mindscape."

"And all that combined," Doctor Liang said, "will assuredly help us figure out who exactly you are, Sam, and who you are not. And if everything goes according to schedule, and there aren't any emergencies or last-second changes in decisions, your trip to the… laboratory you woke up in is on the docket right after. Under the guidance of the Guardians, of course." Again, Mom and I nodded that we understood.

Mom was technically barred from going along due to the danger, but that was only in her civilian persona; Peakstar would be escorting me, as per Amber's unintentional prophecy almost three weeks earlier.

"Good. Any questions before we begin?" We shook our heads.