I blinked as my monitor flashed white and words scrolled across the screen.

Cognition Series 3.0 ... Instruction demo for module II.

The room around me fell silent while my brain vibrated with the stumbling drumbeat of my heart.

Working on separate monitors, partners will interact within a shared simulation until the module is complete.

Huh. Maybe the test would be like playing a two-person video game on different screens. That sounded easy enough on the surface, but I'd already learned that nothing about Meta was simple underneath.

Three columns will appear on each player's monitor. The left column will only respond to the partner on the left. The right column will only respond to the partner on the right. The middle sorting column will respond to both partners as a team.

Since I was seated on Archer's left, I'd work the left-handed column while he'd control the right from his screen. I snuck a quick look at him, wearing his translucent rubbery cap, and couldn't help but smirk.

When the module begins, puzzle pieces will fall into each partner's column. Using their touchscreens, players will manipulate the pieces until they create a picture. Once complete, pictures will disappear and the process will restart with added difficulty. Partners must clear as many puzzles as possible until the module is finished.

Suddenly the words dissolved and three columns appeared on my monitor. Multicolored puzzle pieces fell, one at a time, into the left and right columns. Turning and locking together, they created an image of Mendel's crest. Blinking on and off for a moment, the puzzle pieces broke apart again and disappeared.

As puzzles increase in difficulty, stray pieces will be added into play. These pieces do not match the puzzle at hand. If a player identifies a stray piece, they should swipe it into the middle sorting column. Working together, players can transform pieces in the sorting column into pictures for additional points.

Once again, the words disappeared and an image of three columns dominated the screen. This time, when the puzzle pieces turned and locked together, it became obvious some pieces didn't belong.

Stray pieces moved into the middle sorting column where they flipped and morphed into a picture of Dr. Kelly. His image was wearing a T-shirt that said, "if you're not part of the solution, you're part of the precipitate."

Dork. Dr. Kelly definitely had a thing for corny science jokes. No wonder he'd gotten along with my dad so well, at least according to what mom said at orientation.

Demonstration complete. Test beginning in 3 ... 2 ... 1 ...

The screen turned black and a whoosh of air slowly escaped my lips. I tapped my nails on the table and my knee bounced up and down frenetically.

"Hey, Marin," Archer whispered beside me.

"What?" I flicked my eyes over to him, taking in the dichotomy of his translucent gel cap and dimpled smile.

"We've got this." Winking, he turned back to his monitor and I felt my lips curl into a tiny smile.

"Yeah," I whispered back. "We do."

At least, I hoped we did.

Flashing suddenly, my screen came back to life and I snapped to attention. Three columns appeared and, as the demonstration promised, an array of jigsaw pieces started tumbling down the display.

Archer and I began a slow dance on-screen, swiping pieces, creating pictures, moving strays into the middle column and starting over again. As we completed more puzzles, the pieces fell faster.

We seemed to have a natural rhythm, working at a similar pace and anticipating one another's next move as we strategized ways to unite our strays.

"Hey Marin," Archer whispered as his hands flew across his screen.

"What?" I whispered back, carefully completing a puzzle of DNA's twisting double helix within the confines of my column.

"Why did the monk have a hard time finishing his puzzle?"

I did a double-take, letting my eyes slide over to his face for a second before shifting back to my screen. "Is your skull cap too tight? Are you seriously telling me a joke right now?"

"C'mon Marin, it's a good one." His voice was tinged with a smile, so I decided to indulge him.

"Fine. You got me. Why did the monk have a hard time finishing his puzzle?" Narrowing my eyes, I swiped the final piece of the double helix into place, the picture flashed and disappeared.

"Because he couldn't find his inner piece. Get it? Monk? You know, like zen — inner peace — puzzle piece. Funny huh?"

"Ugh, Archer! You're as bad as Dr. Kelly with that crappy joke." Despite my whispered protests, I pressed my lips together to stop a giggle from escaping into the air. What a goof.

From the corner of my eye, I caught the glow of Edison lights beginning to turn on around the room. While other teams succumbed to the simulation, Archer and I were on fire. A heady, giddy feeling bubbled up from the pit of my stomach as I swiped faster and faster, conquering more puzzle pieces as they fell.

Even if it was just a stupid video simulation, even if I had no idea what it all meant, even if I wasn't sure who the hell I was supposed to be ... maybe this was a sign I actually belonged here.

I flipped and manipulated a flurry of puzzle pieces with confidence as the movement of Archer's hands filled my peripheral vision.

There was something familiar about the new picture starting to form in my column. As each piece locked together, my eyebrows furrowed a little deeper.

What's going on here?

The puzzle pieces were forming the image of a butterfly. Not just any butterfly; the same one I'd seen in the giant egg on the first day of PACK testing.

With each swipe, I arranged pieces into the shape of intricate wings with hexagonal patterns, a geometric palette of red, indigo, gold and green.

As the puzzle took shape, the wings became hypnotic and their colours began to swirl.

Not again.

Sweat beaded under my gel cap and my fingers itched. As I swiped the last pieces into place, the butterfly's wings seemed to undulate. Inside my mind, a cascade of minor keys began to play.

Frozen in front of my monitor, hypnotized by the surge of color, my breath was shallow as a tidal wave of music flooded my brain.

"Marin?" Archer's voice was lost somewhere in the orchestral sound. "Hey -- Marin, are you ok?"

The music was everything. The music was me. Swelling colors infected my brain and were purged by the notes that washed them away again. Over and over, color turned to sound and sound to color, until I couldn't tell one from the other anymore.

"Marin? Marin!" Archer's voice was far away, like he was calling down from the edge of a cliff while I tumbled headfirst into churning waters.

I'm not sure when everything turned black, but I do remember hitting the floor. After that, all that was left was silence.

***
Cognition testing's getting a little hardcore! Sorry this chapter took so long — I did some research to figure out how to put the testing together, and a little longer to try and paint a picture of Marin's experience. Would love to hear your thoughts. What do you think of Chapter 21? Any predictions on where this is headed? Please vote, comment and share if you like the story!!