We had about ten minutes before the race would time out. I knew from the chatter that there were multiple teams still stuck on the higher floors. There was nothing we could do about that.

We left Marjory and Alicia still on the couch, still chatting. Gravy Boat never woke up.

I did notice something odd on the way out, however. A minor mystery. There was a small bag of the expensive Royal Canin cat food on the counter. This was the specific dry cat food we’d get for Donut, and it had to be special-ordered. The little pebbles of food were shaped in a way to allow flat-faced cats to crunch on them more easily. I remembered that ripped bag of charity cat food I had in my inventory. Whatever fucked-up timeline this was, it had resulted in Marjory having a bag of Donut’s food.

If Donut had noticed, she didn’t say anything. We rode in silence, with us just giving directions to Pontiff.

“We never did get to play music with them,” Donut finally said as we moved to the hallway.

“No,” I agreed. And then I added, “Speaking of music, we might have to pop Miriam’s head. That’ll cause the bugs to leak. That’ll slap him out of it. He’ll be pissed, but he’ll have to get over it.”

“We need to be nice to him. He’s been having a hard time lately,” Donut said.

Donut cast Hole on the front door in the hallway, and we dropped, landing right in front of apartment 130. We cast a hole in the door and drove inside.

I heard and recognized the music the moment we entered. I didn’t know the name of the piece, but it was from Beethoven. It was a familiar melody.

The gate was right there in the hallway. We passed through it.

Gate Seven of Seven cleared. You may now proceed to the exit.

Sweety the tapir stood stopped at the end of the hallway. We slowly pulled up next to them.

Containment Warning!

“Shit,” Pontiff said, backing up.

Jurgen stood upon the back of the animal, shouting with his hands cupped in front of his face.

Carl: Where is he?

Jurgen: He’s sitting on the floor, his head leaned up against the leg of the piano. He told me he was going to kill me if I drove Sweety in there or interrupted her song. We’ve cleared the rings, but we only have ten minutes left. It says we’re still in first place, but I don’t know how long that will last.

I sighed. The smart thing to do would have been to drive in there and have Donut blast a hole in Miriam’s head, which would have forced Prepotente to react.

That would have been the smart thing.

I pulled a full cup of the splooge from my inventory, swallowed, and drank it down. I gagged.

“Oh god,” I gasped.

The potion tasted worse than I had been expecting.

You’ve been Splooged! You are protected from environmental hazards. You took a good ol’ gulp, too. You’re protected for an hour! Awfully bold of you when there’s only nine minutes left before this race times out.

“I’ll be right back,” I said. I jumped and pulled myself out of the truck through the ceiling, hopped off the hood, andjogged into the living room, using my speed ability to race to the piano. I spotted Prepotente sitting there crossed-legged on the wooden floor.

I gasped the moment I left the protection of the truck. There was a brief moment where I couldn’t breathe, and my eyes burned, but then the feeling sort of settled in my chest. The word Splooge started blinking in my interface with a countdown timer.

I knew Prepotente had some magical upgrade that allowed him to exist in toxic environments, though that, too, had a time limit.

Carl: Prepotente! Don’t freak out. I’m running to you.

He didn’t answer.

As I rushed across the floor, I noted that it was night outside, and this apartment overlooked a massive glittering metropolis. We weren’t at a farm in the Italian countryside.

This was New York City.

But that was clearly Miriam Dom. The piano was huge and shiny dark wood, but Miriam was in pajamas, and there was a Diet Coke and some sort of take-out container with chopsticks sitting atop the piano. There was also an open bottle of wine but no wineglass. She appeared to be alone in the apartment.

There was a photo on the wall showing a small farm. Another obviously vintage photo of a couple getting married. She had a small curio cabinet that featured several goat-themed knickknacks.

There was also a whole line of photographs showing Miriam onstage wearing a sparkling formal gown, sitting behind a piano.

The giant Miriam here was playing her heart out. She had the crossed-out eyes, but she swayed back and forth as her fingers flew across the piano. But as I watched, an uneasy feeling started to come over me. It was difficult to tell for certain because of the missing eyes, but it didn’t seem like she was having a good time.

And then I saw the broken wineglass on the floor next to the piano chair, a puddle of red wine spilled everywhere, soaking into the wood.

“Prepotente,” I said as I pulled up, “we’re running out of time. Look, I know this is hard for you, but you can’t just⁠—”

“This is my mother if she had never stayed to take care of her parents,” Prepotente said, interrupting me. He pulled himself to a standing position and wiped his eyes. “She would’ve become a professional concert pianist. She wouldn’t ever have known me. She would’ve traveled the world. She would’ve had everything she had ever dreamed of.”

“This isn’t real,” I said. “It’s just a possibility. It’s something that didn’t happen. It doesn’t matter.”

“Nobody wants me around,” he said. “I didn’t get to sing when I was practicing so hard, and nobody even said they were sorry they didn’t get to hear me. Everyone is so mean. Imani seemed like she didn’t want me to join the guild.” He gestured upward. “And now seeing this? It’s too much, Carl. I don’t fit in anywhere.” He let out a sad bleat. “I wish I’d never taken the pet biscuit.”

My eyes caught something else. On the kitchen counter was a long, long line of prescription bottles. I didn’t know what that meant or what that implied, but it seemed important. We didn’t have time for this, especially now, here. Everything still stung from what I’d just had to do to get here.

But still, I held back the retort welling up inside of me. I took a breath.

Survival has more than one meaning.

“Listen, buddy,” I said, pointing up at Miriam, who appeared to be playing faster and faster. “Look at her. She lives in this super-nice apartment, but she is clearly alone. I don’t think she’s happy here.”

“She wasn’t happy at home, either. I don’t remember as well as Donut does, but I do remember some things. She was lonely. Oh, Mother, how I wish I could stay. I wish this was my forever.”

Shit, I thought, realizing how easily we’d gotten off with our what-if room.

“Maybe she was lonely in the real world,” I said, trying my hardest to be gentle, hyperaware of the timer. “But you didn’t let me finish. I guarantee she wasn’t as lonely there as she appears to be here. She didn’t have you and her brothers and sisters.”

He didn’t answer.

Donut: CARL, WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Carl: Give me twenty seconds, then come pick us up.

I continued. “This what-if bullshit is insidious. It’s like a goddamned toxic virus on your brain, and once you start going down that road, it’s hard to correct. Of course, things would be different if we did this or did that. But we can’t worry about it because there’s literally nothing we can do about it. And if this damn AI is finding itself stuck in loops, running what-if scenarios over and over again, it’s no wonder it’s going insane.” I put my hand on Prepotente’s shoulder. “Look, buddy. We don’t have time. I’m sorry if we didn’t get to see you sing. But you are always welcome with us.” I paused, remembering my time on Plenty of Plenty. “We are overwhelmed, and all of this sucks, but you and I and Donut and everyone else, we are a herd, and— Oooff.”

Prepotente practically tackled me with a tight, suffocating hug. He started to sob.

Both the food truck and Sweety pulled up, keeping a distance from one another to keep the containments active. Above, the music was getting faster and faster. Miriam hadn’t noticed us. Sweety the tapir let out a strange, elephant-like snort and her long nose thing snuffled at my hair, messing it all up. She smelled just as bad as the splooge tasted.

The caprid pulled himself free and then looked up at Jurgen. “What are you waiting for, you oaf! Time is running out!”

I exchanged a look with the large barbarian and shrugged. I turned to get back into the truck.

“Carl,” Prepotente said, stopping me. He wiped his eyes again.

“Yeah?”

“You can call me Pony if you like.”

It only took us thirty seconds to get from the room to the crowded lobby.

On the way there, in the hallway, we passed the wreckage of team Free Love’s van. We’d killed them just before they’d hit the finish line.

Donut jumped from the seat and into my lap upon seeing that, and I held her tight as we approached the exit.

A few minutes later, I learned Osvaldo had lied, and that lie had saved his life. He and Filipe rushed over the finish line with a minute to spare.

He was followed quickly by several others, all racing to pass the finish line in time.

Quest complete. Ad Infinitum.

Heat Six. Results.

First Place: Team Sparkles.

Second Place: The Royal Court of Princess Donut.

Third Place: Team Flamengo.

Eliminated: Team Free Love.