Silo

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.

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?