WORLD OF FICTION (WOF)

Achebe kept hold of Toby’s wrist until the smile left his face.

The burned ticket shook between his fingers. Half the authorization line remained legible.

TOBIAS Q—

Rainwater dripped from his hair onto the storage-room floor. Behind him, the ruined scene-shell steamed around the edges. Elias’s continuity cord hung through the collapsed doorway. One end still held a piece of the platform clock.

Achebe released Toby.

"Put it down."

He placed the ticket on an overturned equipment case.

"Back away."

"You’ve seen me without a weapon."

"I’ve seen you turn a bell into a tactical plan."

"That feels almost complimentary."

"Back away."

Toby moved beside the wall.

Mira remained near the door, one hand supporting her injured shoulder. Elias sat on the floor while a medic wrapped his bleeding ankle. Dorian had already left for the medical level, ignoring the officer ordered to follow him.

Achebe looked at the ticket. "Does that name belong to you?"

Toby rubbed the red mark around his wrist.

"Yes."

The room stayed still.

Achebe waited.

Toby sighed. "That was the question."

"You authorized Route 9–Null?"

"I used it."

"When?"

"A long time ago."

"How long?"

"I don’t know."

Mira spoke from the doorway. "You knew what the train was."

"I recognized the route format."

"You knew where the ticket would be."

"I guessed."

"You jumped inside before checking whether it would take anyone with you."

"That was the emergency."

"You also tried to take the ticket from Achebe."

Toby looked at her. "That was after the emergency."

"Better?"

"No."

Achebe crouched beside the ticket without touching it.

"What did Route 9–Null carry?"

Toby’s jaw moved.

"Maintenance cargo."

"That answer appears in the records."

"It was meant to."

Achebe lifted her eyes.

Toby looked toward the destroyed scene-shell.

"Objects removed from dead Canons. Fragments. Props. Structures that still held usable Ink."

Elias stopped watching the medic.

"Removed by the Errata?"

Toby shook his head.

"Then who?" Mira asked.

"No."

Achebe’s voice stayed flat. "Refusal recorded."

Toby looked at her. "You don’t have a recorder."

"I remember things."

That silenced him for a second.

Achebe continued. "Did you send the em dash?"

"No."

"Do you remember inserting it?"

"I saw something on the train."

"That was not the question."

"I don’t remember doing it."

"You remembered a younger version of yourself at the route controls."

"I saw one."

"Difference?"

"A route can show you what it expects, what happened, what almost happened, or what someone wrote into its return memory. It is bad evidence."

"Convenient."

"Yes."

Toby’s anger arrived suddenly. It looked more natural on him than the grin.

"You think I built a train around a man I met three days ago, sent part of his sentence into a Canon six months before he died, then waited around pretending to be surprised?"

"I think the ticket contains your name," Achebe said. "I think you concealed relevant experience. Motive remains unproven."

The anger had nowhere clean to land.

Toby looked away first.

Elias said, "I hid the ankle."

Mira’s head turned.

Toby laughed once. "Please don’t help."

"I’m saying I understand why someone might keep something back when they think the institution will—"

"You hid an injury because you were scared they’d restrict you." Toby pointed at the ticket. "I hid work that got people erased. Those are not the same."

The medic tightened the boundary wrap around Elias’s leg.

Pain climbed to his knee.

Elias did not answer.

Mira asked, "What kind of work?"

Toby’s shoulders rose.

"Routing."

"You said maintenance."

"Routing was part of maintenance."

"What were you routing?"

"I already answered."

"Usable pieces from dead Canons."

"Yes."

"Were they dead before your people arrived?"

Toby stared at her.

That was an answer.

Mira’s mouth tightened.

Achebe stood. "One verifiable detail."

"What?"

"You want me to treat your account as more than obstruction. Give me one fact we can test now."

Toby looked around the ruined storage room.

The engine had taken most of Elias’s housing wall with it, but pieces of route cargo remained scattered across the floor: a black suitcase, three sealed weapon bundles, a broken music box, and one length of iron axle.

"The train’s cargo list won’t be in the carriage," he said.

"Where?"

"Inside the rear axle housing."

"There was no rear axle after we separated the engine."

"Then it should be in the platform clock."

Everyone looked at the chunk still tied to Elias’s cord.

Toby crouched.

Achebe blocked him with one foot.

"Instructions."

"Turn it over. There will be a flat panel beneath the minute gear."

Mira did it.

The clock’s rear plate had no screws. She pressed near the centre.

A narrow metal tongue slid free.

Rows of tiny stamped numbers covered both sides.

Achebe passed it to a records officer.

"Verify."

The officer inserted it into a portable reader.

Cargo lines appeared in the air.

Most were damaged.

SCENE-SHELLS: 14.

CHARACTER REMNANTS: 7.

ACTIVE LAW COMPONENTS: 3.

UNPROCESSED NARRATIVE MASS: 1.

The final destination field read:

STRIP FLOOR.

Achebe dismissed the display.

"That confirms route knowledge."

"It does not confirm the memory," Toby said.

"I know."

"What happens now?"

"Your access is suspended."

"I already work in records."

"Not anymore."

Toby’s face changed.

The records office had been punishment three hours earlier. Now it was something being taken.

Achebe continued.

"You remain under observation. No route systems. No reconstruction materials. No unsupervised contact with Elias."

Elias frowned. "Why me?"

"Because the route activated for you and he has history with it."

"I don’t need protecting from Toby."

Achebe looked at him. "Your judgment is currently listed as impaired."

"That’s insulting."

"It is also written in three reports."

Mira stepped into the room. "Where do you put him?"

Achebe understood which him she meant.

"Temporary secured quarters."

Toby shoved both hands into his trouser pockets. "Cell."

"Room."

"Locked?"

"Yes."

"Cell."

Achebe did not argue.

Two officers entered.

Toby looked at Mira.

She gave him nothing.

He looked at Elias next.

Elias thought of the medical lie. The missing drawer. The fear of becoming an object.

Toby had already told him it was different.

Elias stayed silent.

The officers escorted Toby into the corridor.

Before he crossed the threshold, Achebe said, "One more question."

Toby stopped.

"Did Route 9–Null strip Elias’s Story?"

He did not turn.

"I never saw his Story."

"Did routes under your authorization carry unfinished fantasy material?"

"Yes."

"How often?"

"Constantly."

"Dragons?"

Toby’s head lowered.

"You’re asking the wrong question."

Achebe waited.

He looked back at the cargo list.

"Route 9–Null did not carry what the crews found after Stories died."

His voice had lost every trace of performance.

"It carried what remained after they finished killing them."

The officers took him away.

Mira stared at the empty doorway.

Achebe turned to the records officer.

"Secure every object recovered from the train."

The officer glanced at the cargo line.

"Even the unprocessed mass?"

"Especially that."

From inside the black suitcase, something scratched once.

Then began cutting through the lid.