Silo

There've been sightings of Kennedy, but when we get there, he's gone.

Looking for a woman with a bandaged right arm.

IT said we're low on vitamin D.

Please ship two barrels of D+ to Water Filtration.

My name is Orla Kent, and I am shadow to the head of Supply.

You're hurting me.

Please don't tell me we have a problem first day of the Council.

Madam Mayor.

I just wanted to ask about your memory.

Anything coming back?

I'm outside the air lock with Bernard.

- Do you know what I'm talking about? - No.

- That Bernard died from the poison. - Robert.

Your vitamins.

The dirty bomb is what I wanted to talk to you about.

Starting to feel like I'm the only one who thought this was a date.

That reporter. Helen Drew.

She's working on a story.

Well, if it isn't the hero of New Orleans.

I'd like to be assigned to the Iran Committee.

I think I'm allowed to know if my little sister's gonna bomb Iran.

Get on that committee, and tell the reporter what you can.

Who are you?

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.

I don't understand why this is taking so long.

You said a month, two at most.

I feel so much better now.

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.