Chapter One
THE ROOM THAT WASN’T THERE
Johnny knew the room existed because he had already walked past it three times.
At least, that was his argument.
Tooth disagreed.
“Walking past a wall does not prove there is a room behind it.”
Johnny stopped in the middle of the hallway.
“That might be the most annoying sentence anybody has ever said.”
“Thank you.”
Johnny looked at Don Sol.
“Can you make him stop doing that?”
Don was leaning against the Round Table, examining something on the Magic Keyboard.
“Nope.”
“You’re the AI.”
“Correct.”
“You know everything.”
“Nope.”
Johnny stared at him.
Don looked up.
“That one was free.”
Johnny had been coming to the Idea Lab for six days, and already he was beginning to suspect that artificial intelligence involved considerably more saying nope than television had led him to believe.
The hallway in question ran behind the Build Bench and ended at the Safety Wall.
On the left were three doors.
Storage.
Workshop.
A tiny room Darth insisted was his “strategic command center,” although everyone else called it the broom closet.
On the right was a completely ordinary wall.
Johnny pointed.
“The room is there.”
Tooth folded his arms.
“Evidence?”
Johnny pointed harder.
“The building is wider outside than it is inside.”
Tooth’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
Johnny had learned this was the closest Tooth came to looking impressed.
“Better.”
Don pushed away from the table.
“Okay. Now we have something.”
Darth appeared from the broom closet wearing a cape Johnny was fairly certain had once been a curtain.
“I HAVE ALSO CONCLUDED THAT A SECRET CHAMBER EXISTS.”
Tooth looked at him.
“Based on?”
“The architecture of destiny.”
“No.”
“Also the outside wall.”
“Better.”
Darth looked delighted.
“I have defeated science.”
“No.”
Johnny walked toward the blank wall.
“So we just knock it down.”
“No,” said three voices simultaneously.
Johnny turned.
Don pointed at the wall.
“What do we actually know?”
Johnny sighed.
He knew this game.
The Fact Wall flickered on behind them.
Three words appeared.
WHAT WE SAW
Then underneath:
WHAT WE THINK
Then:
WHAT WE DON’T KNOW
Johnny read them.
“That seems like an unreasonable amount of paperwork for a wall.”
“Tooth designed it,” Don said.
“Of course he did.”
Johnny walked slowly along the hallway.
He forced himself not to say anything.
That was harder than he expected.
The wall was painted the same dull gray as the rest of the corridor.
No handle.
No hinge.
No seam.
Nothing.
Then he noticed the floor.
“There.”
Don came beside him.
“What?”
Johnny crouched.
A faint clean stripe ran along the bottom of the wall.
Everywhere else, dust had collected against the baseboard.
But across a section perhaps four feet wide, almost none had.
Darth crouched beside him.
“A spectral entity.”
Tooth remained standing.
“Or something moves.”
Johnny looked up.
“That.”
Tooth nodded.
The Fact Wall changed.
WHAT WE SAW:
A section of floor has less dust.
Johnny pointed at the wall.
“So there is a door.”
Tooth raised one finger.
“No.”
“Oh, come on.”
“What did you observe?”
“The floor.”
“And what did you infer?”
Johnny looked at the clean stripe again.
“That something might move across it.”
“Good.”
The wall changed.
WHAT WE THINK:
Something may move across this section.
Johnny stood.
“So a door.”
Don smiled.
“Maybe.”
Johnny was beginning to hate maybe almost as much as Tooth’s questions.
He placed his hand against the wall.
Nothing.
Pressed harder.
Nothing.
Darth shoved beside him.
“Allow someone with heroic upper-body strength.”
He pushed.
Nothing.
He pushed harder.
His cape slid over his head.
Johnny laughed.
“Heroic.”
“It is restricting my combat geometry.”
“It is fabric,” Tooth said.
Darth ripped the cape backward dramatically.
“TREACHEROUS fabric.”
Johnny stopped laughing.
Something had brushed his ankle.
Cold.
Very faint.
He looked down.
“Wait.”
He held his hand near the baseboard.
There it was again.
Air.
“Don.”
Don crouched.
Johnny moved his fingers slowly along the bottom of the wall.
“There’s air coming through.”
The Fact Wall updated.
WHAT WE SAW:
Less dust.
Airflow beneath the wall.
Tooth crouched now.
Johnny grinned.
“You believe me.”
“I believe there is airflow.”
“You are constitutionally incapable of enjoying anything.”
“Unsupported claim.”
Don laughed.
Johnny followed the airflow sideways.
Strongest near the center.
Weak near the edges.
He stood.
“Okay. Something’s behind it.”
Tooth considered the sentence.
“Reasonable.”
Johnny blinked.
“That was almost human.”
“I withdraw it.”
The four of them examined the wall again.
Johnny wanted badly to find a hidden button.
Secret rooms always had hidden buttons.
Possibly inside a statue’s eye.
Unfortunately, the hallway contained no statues.
Darth began tapping random bricks.
“Secret switch. Secret switch. Secret switch.”
“There aren’t bricks,” Johnny said.
“Metaphorical bricks.”
Then the Magic Keyboard chimed from the Round Table.
One key was glowing.
Don looked toward it.
A single symbol.
?
Johnny frowned.
“The question mark?”
Don walked back to the keyboard.
“Apparently.”
Darth stared at him.
“Your magic machine has recommended punctuation.”
“Never underestimate punctuation.”
Johnny followed.
The screen above the keyboard remained black except for one sentence.
WHAT ARE YOU ASSUMING?
Johnny read it twice.
“We’re assuming there is a door.”
Susie had entered quietly from the far side of the Lab.
She was eating an apple.
Johnny hadn’t heard her come in.
She looked at the wall.
“Why does it have to be a door?”
Everyone became quiet.
Even Darth.
Johnny turned back toward the hallway.
Because of course it was a door.
Secret room.
Wall.
Hidden entrance.
That was how things worked.
Except—
That wasn’t evidence.
It was a story his brain had written around the evidence.
Johnny walked back.
Clean floor.
Airflow.
Possible empty space.
None of those things required a door.
“What else could move?” he asked.
Vega’s voice came from the Wonder Window.
“A wall.”
Johnny stared.
The entire wall?
He placed both hands against the center again.
This time he did not push forward.
He pushed sideways.
Nothing.
Then left.
A tiny movement.
Barely enough to see.
But enough.
Johnny’s eyes widened.
“Guys.”
Everyone gathered around.
He pushed again.
The wall moved half an inch.
Darth screamed.
“THE ARCHITECTURE HAS BETRAYED US!”
They pushed together.
The entire four-foot panel slid sideways into the adjoining wall.
Behind it was darkness.
Real darkness.
Not broom-closet darkness.
The kind that looked as though it had been waiting.
Johnny stared into it.
A room.
Small.
Dusty.
Forgotten.
In the middle stood an old desk.
On it sat a computer.
Beside the computer was a yellow envelope.
Johnny took one step forward.
Tooth caught his shoulder.
“Observe first.”
Johnny stopped.
Normally he would have complained.
This time he didn’t.
He looked.
The ceiling.
The floor.
The desk.
The electrical cable.
The dust.
No obvious danger.
Don checked the room too.
Then nodded.
Johnny entered.
The envelope had writing on the front.
One sentence.
He read it aloud.
“If you found this room, you already learned the first thing.”
Johnny opened it.
Inside was a single card.
Across the top, in small neat handwriting, were two words: LESSON ONE. Below them, it said:
WHAT YOU THINK HAPPENED
IS NOT THE SAME AS
WHAT YOU KNOW HAPPENED.
Johnny stared at it.
Behind him Tooth said, “Acceptable.”
Johnny turned.
“Who wrote this?”
Don looked at the computer.
“I don’t know.”
Johnny waited.
Don smiled.
“Yet.”
The big red button on the Round Table illuminated.
I DON’T KNOW… YET.
Johnny looked again at the card.
A day earlier, he would have thought that admitting you didn’t know something meant you had failed.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
Maybe I don’t know wasn’t the end of an answer.
Maybe it was where the investigation started.
The old computer suddenly clicked.
Everyone froze.
A green cursor appeared on its black screen.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
Then one word appeared.
HELLO.
Darth stepped behind Tooth.
Tooth looked backward.
“Why are you hiding behind me?”
“TACTICAL POSITIONING.”
Johnny moved closer to the screen.
“Don?”
“Yes?”
“Do you know who turned that on?”
“No.”
Johnny smiled.
For once, the answer didn’t bother him.
“Good.”
And somewhere inside the old machine, something began typing.