Shit.
- Hey. Finally on my way home. - Hi.
Just wanted to check in.
- Big day today. - Yeah, it was.
- All good? - Yeah.
You did well at the Council.
I think it's the start of something special.
It smells like smoke in here.
I didn't like the soup, so I reheated some pizza.
Okay, well…
- Night. - Night.
The note itself is not of grave concern.
What is of concern is her decision to lie to you about it.
The medication can only erase what was,
but if she does not trust the new narrative,
we have a very different problem.
And you, Camille, are the narrator she needs to trust.
I don't understand why this is taking so long.
You said a month, two at most.
We have 352 years of data
which demonstrates the protocol is effective.
Most of the time.
When implemented correctly.
Six silos have successfully undergone full resets, including your own 140 years ago.
And there have been individuals targeted along the way.
Your frustration is noted.
While it has largely proven effective,
there have also been exceptions.
Outliers like Juliette Nichols who have required extended treatment.
You, Camille, are working with such an outlier.
I feel so much better now.
Her dream indicates some memory of her return
remains in her unconscious.
Continue the medication protocol for two more weeks.
Tighten her security detail and double your efforts
to assure Nichols that you are her most trusted ally.
Thirty miles out of Cartersville.
Kick-ass view of the sunset over Pine Mountain.
Yeah, we had horses and ducks and goats.
These two bulldogs.
Angriest dogs God put on the earth.
Only thing they ever did was chase us from the front gate
to the house every time we got off the bus.
When I told you I'd been made the University of Georgia Bulldogs' mascot…
Don't worry.
What?
Well, you laughed so hard that you…
you pissed yourself.
I don't sound like a very nice sister.
Mom's name was Grace.
Dad…
William.
Please, I'm…
I'm sorry, Donald, I just…
don't know what to say.
No.
No. Don't be sorry. I'm sorry.
Fuck.
You all right?
I don't usually swear at inanimate objects.
Worse targets for rage.
Besides, this machine's been asking for it for months.
That's good.
Don't worry about that.
Everything okay?
Yeah. My sister's here.
Well, her body's here.
I'm sitting there with someone I've spoken to every day for the last
three decades and she's looking at me like I'm the Uber driver.
You're Daniel.
We've been expecting you. I'm Victor Crnkovich.
I'm Charlotte's doctor.
- Hi. - Hi.
It's good to meet you.
Yeah, I'm afraid to tell you that I'm the reason she doesn't remember you.
So, the medication,
it's like installing a drawbridge between her and her memory.
A safety gap, if you will, between upstairs and downstairs.
Used for too long, the bridge stays up, becomes permanent
and she never gets her memory back.
But when she's stronger, we'll pause the medication,
lower the bridge, go across, and choose…
actually choose…
what memories to bring back, and what to leave behind.
I lost you with the drawbridge thing?
No.
I don't know. Yes…
This kind of conversation wasn't on my list
of things to try to get my head around today.
The drawbridge comes down, how do you get her memories back?
We tell her story, over and over.
Her story?
Okay.
Why do humans rule the world and not the apes?
I don't know.
Opposable thumb.
Better motor control.
- Bigger brain. Less hair. - Okay.
Let's try this. What do you do all day?
Right now? Call up total strangers and beg them for money.
Exactly. You reach out to people and you tell them a story.
You take a set of data and you weave meaning around it.
It's what we do, it's who we are. We're storytellers, meaning-makers.
It's our only superpower.
You, me, Charlotte,
we're really just a collection of stories we've told ourselves.
Memory is our internal biography.
Information that we've hopped up with meaning to tell us who we are.
The medication has erased the book of Charlotte.
Okay? Like I said,
we'll stop the meds, and memory by memory,
you'll fill it back up again with her story.
Memory by memory?
Memory by memory.
Loving sister,
brilliant naval aviator.
Even the mission to Iran, but this time you have a choice.
Daniel, you have a choice not to cripple her with the whole truth.
The trauma of what happened to her squadron.
You have a choice to leave that behind.
Could I tell her a lie?
Would she believe it?
Why would you lie?
Well, she has a few opinions about me I wouldn't mind her forgetting.
Actually, you could implant a lie.
It would take a lot of time and great effort.
The real memories ignite faster because they're already there on the page,
she just can't see them.
You'll need artifacts to bring back the old memories.
You know, objects from her life, her childhood.
Memory is in the body, not just the brain.
It's…
It's in the smells of the past, and the meaning
that we wrapped around objects we had when we were kids.
We use them like shortcuts to ignite the neural pathways.
Our parents died when we were young.
We moved in with our aunt.
There's not a lot of stuff from our childhood.
I'm sorry, but there's something else there between the ones and the zeros.
It's not just neurons and axons, there's something else.
Something mysterious, like…
like a soul.
And it won't be controlled by me or anyone else.
So, sometimes, maybe 10% of the time, it does not work.
But she's responding well, so you have reason to hope.
Okay? Okay.
Sorry for the interruption, boss. There's a woman out here.
Filed a regular missing persons' report,
but she won't leave till she sees you.
It's not a regular missing persons' report.
The missing person's name?
Orla Kent.
She's my sister.
Shadow to the head of Supply?
I saw her yesterday at the Silo Council.
Spoke to her.
- She's missing? - She comes to me every night
after her shift.
Last night, nothing.
Maybe she went home and crashed.
No, she'd porter a note.
My parents are old.
They worry. That's our deal.
Since we were kids.
No unexplained absences, no room to worry.
Look, I know you're busy with a whole lot of stuff
that's more important to everyone else in the Silo, but something's wrong.
I know it in my bones.
I lied to my parents.
I told them Orla stayed with me last night.
I can't lie to them again today.
Okay.
Thank you.
It's all very Frankenstein.
Crnkovich?
No, me.
He's asking me to…
I don't know, take a shopping cart into her brain,
pick a whole lot of parts, rebuild her soul.
Well…
I mean, who are we if not the sum of our memories, right?
I guess.
Look, I thought I might go check on her if that's okay.
I never served, so, you know, some candy, some magazines to a wounded vet
feels like literally the least I could do.
Sure.
Daniel.
- Hey. - Helen.
- Hi. - Hi.
Have you met Anna Thurman?
Helen Drew.
Not officially.
Everyone says your mother's talking points are bulletproof
since she roped you in, so…
Helen and I accidentally ended up on a date.
Not a date.
Listen, I just went by your office. I heard about your sister.
- I wanted to say sorry. - Thanks.
Is she at Walter Reed?
No, they transferred her to the Heidi Stensen Clinic.
Wow.
Someone must have pulled some serious strings.
I can't imagine a naval aviator would have that kind of money tucked away.
Actually, I think you'll find that Dr. Crnkovich
has been treating combat veterans free of charge for years now.
Yeah, I guess. Yeah.
His first trial was on prison populations
in countries too indebted to US aid to say no.
His second was with the DOD on first year recruits
who don't get a say in their medical treatment.
And in both cases, he took a big blackboard eraser
and wiped out their memories.
He let traumatized combat vets forget the horrors that they saw.
He let career criminals forget that they were criminals
and become productive members of society.
But he decides what people remember and what they don't remember.
Doesn't that worry you?
Well, it's a little more complicated than that.
And she's my sister.
You know, everything since she became a fighter pilot worries me.
Is it too cynical to say that he is using injured vets to test his theories?
- Helen. - Victor lost his wife
and child in a car accident when he fell asleep at the wheel.
My guess is he's got more skin in the trauma game than most.
Take care.
And send Charlotte my best.
Sure.
You met with a reporter and you thought it was a date?
Politicians and reporters, you know it's transact--
It's transactional, yes, I know.
I was…
Distracted?
Well, as well as being quite good looking, she's also good at her job.
Even if the only one she could get was a shitty one.
Is she not at the Post?
No, she hasn't been there for a year.
She was a bad girl.
She's at some online sleaze factory now.
Still, she's a reporter.
She got what she wanted and you got nothing.
What'd she get?
You told her where Charlotte's being treated.
And you told her for free.
She said you should take the whole box…
for luck.
Okay?
"You wanted the truth.
The truth is I love you.
Have no fear, they're good in Supply."
Mayor?
Mrs. Sims asked me to log our movements more formally today.
Get back to Supply.
If they don't find us more rebar, the stairs…
they'll only be ready for their grandchildren.
Cover me.
You know, you still gotta talk to her.
I can't.
She asked for your help.
I can't.
Okay.
Maybe I should check with someone.
It's safe and all to go down but…
Why? Who would you check with?
I'm the mayor. This is my security.
Teddy.
What's going on?
The mayor wants to go down.
Madam Mayor, can I ask why you want to go down?
Do I have to give you a reason?
Well, I'm in charge of rebuilding the stairs
and no one gets on a rope without my say-so.
You know I don't really remember you?
Yeah, I know.
And I have this feeling we didn't really see eye to eye.
We did all right.
I wanna talk to Martha Walker.
Well, you're in luck. She went up to 60 to get some medical supplies.
She should be back down any second.
Right.
Well, we'll wait.
Madam Mayor,
while you wait, can I talk to you for a second?
In private.
Yeah. Sure.
It's okay.
I… Shit.
Camille gave us all instructions about how to talk to you
so I don't fuck up your recovery.
It's okay. Go ahead.
You asked Shirley about Bernard Holland.
Yeah?
This morning she remembered something.
I don't know if this is helpful, but during the rebellion,
a guy came down.
He said he was Bernard's shadow.
Well, we didn't have time for him, Shirl was just gonna throw him in a cell,
but he said he knew you.
He said that when you went over that hill,
someone had seen you go inside somewhere
and that maybe you were still alive.
- Did he say who? - No.
All I know is Shirl took him down to the digger void.
He was looking for something at the bottom.
He wouldn't say what it was.
But if this guy really was Bernard's shadow,
maybe he could help you.
What's his name?
Lukas Kyle.
I'm getting an assistant in my next life.
I am so done with doing things for someone who should be doing them himself.
Hi. Let me start over.
I'm with Congressman Daniel Keene's office.
He asked me to stop by, check on his sister.
Maybe…
Maybe get her outside?
Why didn't Shirley tell me herself?
I think…
We're all struggling with how to wrap our heads around
what you remember and what you don't.
And I know that you won't remember this,
but Shirley, she armors up when she's hurting.
I mean, when you first came back,
Shirl camped outside your hospital room for ten days straight.
Wouldn't leave your side.
I practically had to carry her back down to Mechanical.
Then the rumors started that you had lost a lot of your memory in the fire,
but Shirl wouldn't have it.
You wouldn't forget her.
She ran up 144 levels to be there your first time out in the cafeteria.
Waited in the back.
Let everybody else get their piece of you.
And then when it was her turn, you looked straight through her.
I…
I just think talking to you hurts a little too much right now.
Here's Walker.
Madam Mayor, this is Martha Walker.
Don't bother.
She has no idea who I am.
Do you?
Let's start with something simple.
You still drink coffee?
Or am I not allowed to ask that 'cause you're too fragile?
I drink coffee.
Good.
So what have they been telling you?
Well, they said that I used to
- spend a lot of time in your workshop. - The mayor's coming.
Madam Mayor, go ahead.
She can wait like the rest of us.
So…
I know that my main responsibility was the generator, right?
But I wanna know why did I spend so much time with you?
You came for advice.
Which you never took.
Why?
- Hi. - Pigheadedness, arrogance.
Hey, two black coffees.
Hold the fawning.
So why'd you wanna see me?
I got a note last night.
Did you send it?
Wasn't me.
What did it say?
You don't trust me.
I want to trust you.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Why would that be?
I remember you sent me a note the day that I went out to clean.
"They're good in Supply."
Which showed me that you had swapped the heat tape.
Something that you could've been sent out to clean for.
And you wouldn't do that to anyone, you would do that to someone that you…
Yeah, well, that was then.
So what? You don't remember something, poof, it's gone.
Might just as well not have existed.
Okay.
Well…
The note I got said,
"If you want to know the truth, go to the marketplace at 2:00."
So I wanna know, do I go to the marketplace?
Do I go…
You know what was the most irritating thing about you?
If there was a problem, a question, a decision to be made
and everyone was pointing in one direction,
you would decide that the only direction to go in was the opposite.
Right. Okay. That's quite irritating.
No. What was irritating was that 99% of the time you were right.
Because you trusted your gut.
So my question to you now is, what does your gut say?
I can't.
You see, the person I risked my life for, she was a fighter.
She would have fought with every inch of stubbornness,
arrogance, pigheadedness in her body.
That's it?
- What's that? - Are you even trying?
To remember?
What do you m… I'm here. Right? So, yeah. What…
I get…
I get splinters of memory, or something. I don't know what it is.
And the more I try and hold onto it, it just slips away so…
I don't know what to do.
Try harder.
I don't remember you.
That's okay. I'm not taking it personally.
You're the only one.
How about we go sit over there?
It's so good to get away from the constant staring, and questions…
and pressure to vomit up something of value.
You have any military visitors yet, hoping you'll vomit up something of value?
Not yet.
Mostly my brother hovering over me,
sweating bullets that I'll remember something.
- Yeah. - Remember him.
Well, for the record, I'm a reporter.
I want you to vomit up something too.
We met a couple of times.
Something was bothering you about the mission to Iran.
I don't remember anything about the mission.
Part of what I do is help people get their stories straight, okay?
I help them fill in the blanks.
So I thought I could tell you what I know about the mission
and what they're saying officially.
Maybe that'll help stir something up.
Charlotte.
Charlotte?
Hey. Hey. Are you okay? Hey.
- Are you okay? - Yeah.
All right, excuse me. Hey, excuse me, guys. Thank you. Excuse me.
Look, I know this is not a part of your orders,
but I need some space.
So, could you give me 30 minutes or…
Have you met Mrs. Sims?
I let you outta my sight, then she'll use my intestines for dental floss--
- I know, but I need to-- - Juliette.
- It's her. It's Juliette. - Hi, guys.
- Wait, wait. Don't. - Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
- All right, guys. Sorry, no. - Jerry. Hey. No, no, no.
Just give the mayor some space, okay?
- Back up. - What the fuck are you…
- Did you touch me? - What are you talking about?
He fucking touched me!
- I'm sorry. - Hey!
- I'm sorry. - You need to take your hands off her.
Madam Mayor. This is a misunderstanding.
Ma'am. Are you lost?
If you want the truth, come with me.
Match me. Three…
Hold it.
That's it. Match my breathing.
- In for three seconds and hold. - Okay.
And out.
Good. You're doing good. Easy now.
Let it go. Okay. Good.
Charlotte seemed to know her.
- Did you call the police? - No, I was waiting for you.
Who are you?
What?
I'm the man you strong-armed into helping you with the hard drive.
What?
Patrick Kennedy, whose life's never sucked more than when I met you.
You're one of the fugitives.
Danny. You screwed my life too.
Landed me in Judicial seclusion. Trying to forget it, probably never will.
Sandy. I worked for you when you were sheriff.
You didn't screw up my life but I still don't like you.
Okay, and you… You sent me the note?
Well, I didn't. She did. She wrote it. I don't know why she wrote
- the whole thing about the truth. - You sent me the note?
- 'Cause I wanted her to show up. - Yeah.
Okay, but what you should have said is,
- "Why are you lying about the outside?" - Yeah.
Well, I'm not lying. What do you mean?
The Jane Carmody video. I saw you see it.
The flowers. And the trees.
- And the birds. - And the birds.
And then you went outside and you came back, right?
So why are you saying that it's not safe?
It's not safe 'cause it's not safe.
When you went over the hill, what did you see?
I've seen what we've all seen.
I've seen the…
I walk over the hill and then I walk into a refuge hut, right?
But do you remember that?
Really?
Or are you just remembering what you've been shown?
No, I…
I… Okay. I don't…
I don't. I don't know. I don't know.
I don't know. I don't know.
Then maybe they did it. Maybe they actually did it.
- What? - Hold on one second.
You remember the drugs that Sims offered me?
"Swallow these pills and you'll forget that we led your wife to her grave"?
Do you remember that? I said it was total bullshit.
- Hey. - Maybe it's not bullshit.
- I'm sorry. All I'm saying is… - Just…
What if your head injury is not because of the fire?
Let me ask you something.
Are you receiving a lot of medical attention right now?
- Yeah. - Yeah, like being asked to swallow
a whole bunch of pills?
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Wake the fuck up, people. I'm sorry.
But you are the only one who has ever gone out and survived.
And now, surprise, sur-fucking-prise.
She doesn't remember anything except what they tell her.
Get the helmets.
Hey. Hey. What the fuck were you doing?
What she wanted.
Our non-date?
- Wasn't randomly fishing for information. - I know.
You went to Charlotte for a story, and then when you didn't get it,
- you came to me. - No, you idiot, I didn't go to her.
She came to me.
She read my stuff.
She thought she could trust me and we met in secret.
There were questions that she wanted to ask, questions that she couldn't ask.
The best she could do was point me in the right direction.
Right direction for what?
She thought something was off about the mission to Iran.
She thought you might be willing to use what little congressional power you've got
to try and find some answers.
What kind of questions?
The kind that an administration with a hard-on for going to war with Iran
don't want asked.
Like, "Was the dirty bomb attack on D.C. even real?"
She told me not all missions planned for Iran were related to the nukes.
The one she was on, going to the mountains up next to Turkmenistan,
their planes were going to be loaded with bunker busters.
She said they pulled out the comms units
and installed this old school system from the '80s.
Why would they do that?
What do old comms give you?
You don't want your email hacked? You use a typewriter.
Don't want your planes hacked? You take them out of the digital playing field.
She said, "Might as well be flying Tomcats."
Everyone else in Charlotte's squadron is dead,
and she scores a magical transfer here?
Where her treatment will what?
Make sure she never remembers what happened?
I didn't sneak in there today to get some story.
Your sister wanted the truth.
Badly enough to risk her career and risk going to jail for it.
I think she still does.
Which just leaves the question, was she right to send me to you for help?
And then a raider came up behind her.
They talked for a few seconds and then Juliette followed the raider.
Down an alley and into one of the storage rooms.
Which storage room?
I can show you…
but there's something I want in return.
And what might that be?
This one we grabbed from IT the other day.
Printed inside is the number 18.
Same number as on the hard drive.
But this one, the helmet you wore back?
It says 17.
Juliette.
You had a sign.
You held it up to the camera and it said, "Not safe. Do not come out."
I worked for you.
I know your handwriting. You didn't write it.
Who wrote the sign?
I don't know. I don't know. I don't know… It's fucking gone.
Great. What now?
We get back to looking for Lukas Kyle.
Ninety-two days without a sighting.
But you know what they say, 93rd day's a charm.
Hey. Hey, wait, Lukas Kyle?
- Yeah, he was Bernard's shadow. - No, I know. I know.
Why are you looking for him?
Because before he became Bernard's shadow, he was in the mines.
Why?
Because you showed him a red-level relic and he didn't report it.
I figured you showed him that hard drive.
I don't…
I don't remember giving him…
I know. You don't remember anything I got it.
Wait. Stop.
So Lukas is sent to the mines, but why then did Bernard pull him out?
Why? I don't get it.
That's what we're trying to find out.
But he hasn't been seen since the rebellion.
Fuck. Get her out of here. Go, go, go, go.
- You gotta go. Now. - We gotta go.
- Now. - Hey. Okay.
Madam Mayor, step aside please.
- Bring in the ram. - Are you all right?
- Yeah. - Hold on.
Clear the mayor! Get her out.
Now!
What did Kennedy want?
He just kept on going on about it being safe outside,
that I was lying and I need to tell the truth.
- But you know the truth. - Yeah. I do.
When you had the dream about Bernard,
you said there was something you had to do but couldn't remember what.
Yeah?
Did Kennedy say anything about that?
What? No.
No, he just kept yelling that I need to tell everyone that it's good outside.
- That's all he said? - Yeah.
Okay.
Look, you get that because of that note,
you walked blindly into something that could've gone very wrong?
- Yeah. - This is why I have Jerry on you. Okay?
Because the only way I can keep you safe
- is if we're in it together. - Okay.
There can't be secrets.
I know. And I didn't think it through and I'm sorry.
I should… I shouldn't have. I know.
- I know. - Okay.
- Okay? - Yeah.
- Yeah. Are we good? - Not quite. I…
I need you to meet someone.
Why?
She followed you. She…
The only way she'd tell us where you were is if she could talk to you.
- I said she could have one minute. - Are you kidding me? I'm tired.
It's a minute.
- Okay. Yep. - Yeah?
This is…
Juliette.
- Right. - We call ourselves that. In tribute.
Did it hurt getting that?
A bit.
A lot, actually.
You know what it means?
- No. - No?
We just thought that if you had it then it must mean something good.
Right.
Would you tell me what it means?
Sorry, what's your name? What do your parents… What do they call you?
- Evelyn. - Evelyn.
Well, that's a good name.
I don't know what it means.
I don't even remember getting it.
So, I guess you just got marks on your body that don't mean anything.
But, yeah.
Sorry.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
You went out.
And you came back to keep us from killing ourselves.
So if these lines mean nothing else to you,
well, they mean that to us.
- Let's not have that day again. Okay? - Yeah.
There are two things I want to say to you. Hey!
Thing one: That stunt in the market?
Not cool.
I am not the kind of man who would ever lay hands on a woman.
I honor this badge and my wife.
Yeah. That was a shitty thing to do. And I'm just not myself right now.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Thing two: I've been thinking about this whole mayoral security thing.
It basically feels like we're treating you like a prisoner.
And it's not sitting right with me.
Okay, if you wanna get away from all this…
take some time for yourself, you can tell me.
- I'll find a way to make it work. - What about Camille?
You're my mayor.
You let me worry about Mrs. Sims.
Come on.
You might wanna wear long sleeves till that heals.
They're looking for a woman with a damaged right wrist.
I've looked the other way for weeks, Kat.
I haven't put my foot down,
- associating with Kennedy-- - Your foot down?
- You're really gonna go there. - I don't know where the fuck I'm going.
You saw the page.
The world was beautiful.
You think you need to remind me?
I've spent my whole life living by something,
enforcing something which is…
- A lie. - No.
Not all of it.
But if you think there's not a single day
I don't choke on the irony of being asked to help rewrite the Pact…
How many times do I see the things that I believed in are wrong?
But what you're doing…
I can't tell you or Kennedy or anyone else what to think.
But today, things went too far.
Think what you want! Don't break into IT! Don't grab the mayor!
Your daughter is sleeping.
It's a miracle no one else saw you.
What if they had? What happens then?
When they tell me my wife is in the middle of this.
I don't know, Paul.
I'm struggling to get a bead on things too.
I gotta go.
Where?
The Mids.
There's a missing person.
Blood pressure's up.
Not surprising after such a frightening day, right?
Yeah.
- Time for your vitamins. - Thanks.
- All right. Bye. - Bye.
Hey. I'm gonna go to the cafeteria. I'm hungry.
Never noticed that before.
Yeah, well, now you have.
Ma'am, would you like to order something?
No. I'm good.
On the upside, I think it gave her a scare.
She apologized for not telling me about the note straightaway.
So you believe things are back on track.
I can't vouch for tomorrow, but today, yes.
I think they are.
After her return, Juliette's survival was unwelcome.
But the numbers indicated it was tolerable.
Perhaps even beneficial.
The blue line represents the calming value in the Silo
of having Juliette Nichols as mayor.
The red line is the risk she poses if the memory protocol is not successful.
If those lines cross, Juliette Nichols will have outlived her usefulness.
The problem, of course, is that a sudden removal of Juliette
could be catastrophically destabilizing.
We can only hope that the introduction of the vitamin compound
into the water supply happens before that becomes necessary.