At first, I saw nothing. Then the panels shifted slightly, and a thin slice of light appeared far ahead. It was a doorway, maybe the exit
I smirked at him. My sense of direction was perfect. “That’s it?”
“That's it.”
“There a catch?”
“There are several.”
“At least you honest.”
“Always.”
That made me frown for a second.
The doctor continued. “The maze responds to your choices. It rewards you for thoughtful observation and showing emotional control. It punishes you for being too impulsive.”
“Punishes how?”
“Poor choices make the paths narrower. Better choices widen the way. The ceiling provides feedback, too, if you willing to notice it.”
I looked up at the beautiful blue sky, careful also to take in the clouds and storm.
“You telling me the roof gon’ lead the way?”
The doctor chuckled softly. “You could say that.”
For some reason, that made me laugh, too. The doctor stepped backward.
“I’ll be communicating with you through the intercom. If you become overwhelmed, stop. Breathe, observe, then choose.”
I shrugged. “Sounds easy enough.”
“It should be.”
I looked at him. He smiled again before he left. The door behind me sealed shut. For a second, the sound had me nervous, stomach twisting. I turned, staring at the black door, then forced myself to face the maze again.
No big deal. It was just an exercise. A buzzer sounded. The first row of panels moved, opening a path. The doctor’s voice came through the speakers, smooth and calm. “Begin.”
I walked forward. At first, it was so easy, it was kind of insulting. Left. Right. Straight. The panels slowly shifted every few steps. The ceiling above me was mostly blue as the tiles shifted, a few white clouds scattered through the digital sky.
I smirked. “They made this for children?”
“Confidence is useful. Arrogance is not,” the doctor said.
“Was that a warning?”
“Just an observation.”
I shook my head and took the next turn.
The panel to my left shot up from the floor with a mechanical sound. I jumped back and cursed. The path ahead narrowed by about a foot. The ceiling tile above me dimmed from blue to cloudy gray.
The doctor said nothing. I stared at the ceiling, irritated.
“Okay, fine,” I muttered.
I backed up, took the other turn, and watched the panels ease apart.
