by Ben Farthing
Roberts tapped on the glass. He motioned to the open door, then shrugged his shoulders to ask, what's in there?
Dr. Terry cleared his throat. "I have a tendency to think only of my reputation. I hope you understand. When you're a professor, your reputation is your career. But I should have balanced that against treating others right. In your case, I failed at that, and I apologize. Really, what matters is being at peace with yourself. And for some reason, I'm feeling that now."
Chris yanked him by the armpits to his feet.
He groggily opened his eyes. A smile cupped his mustache. "You're right. We should leave. We'll come back later when that brute out there has calmed down."
"Sure," Chris said. He guided Dr. Terry through the maze of desks, keeping an eye on the office door.
Behind him, Roberts pounded on the glass. It didn't matter if Micah and Roberts realized what they were doing. They had the head start to make it to the next elevator bank.
"Would you like to hear the irony of my behavior towards you?" He took Chris's silence as an affirmative. "I was so afraid that your odd thesis would tarnish my reputation. After all, the idea of the Flat Iron Building being an imitation is absurd. Let alone, an imitation of a structure in rural Vietnam. They didn't even have the infrastructure to deliver the materials."
Chris had heard these insults a hundred times. He'd been duped by a bizarre conspiracy theory. He'd moved past it. Although his career hadn't.
They reached the glass doors on the opposite end of the room.
"But here's the ironic part. Micah Rayner believes the same thing. And not just about the Flatiron Building! The Crystal Palace, the Tremont Hotel, and long before our modern cities. The Tower of London, copied from an alleged stone fortress in northern Scotland. Pliny the Elder's first Roman greenhouses, stolen from already existing structures in Carthage. Even ancient smokehouses--historians can't decide what century they first appeared, but Micah claims she has evidence that the very first one did, in fact, appear."
Chris stopped at the door, still keeping an eye on the office. Micah had apparently shared much more with Dr. Terry. "What are you saying?"
"According to Micah, this isn't the first building to appear overnight."
29
Chris tried to digest Dr. Terry's confession.
This wasn't the first building to appear overnight. Micah hadn't just caught word of this tower, and quickly decided to reverse engineer its construction. She was expecting this. Ready for it.
To what end?
Discovering its "purpose?"
The idea made Chris uneasy, even in this calming, swirling office. For a wildly successful billionaire, Micah had behaved erratically.
She lied about the contract of reverse engineering the construction. Hid her true purpose of finding the building's purpose.
And she'd essentially kidnapped Chris and Dr. Terry to do so. A woman who ran multiple giant corporations couldn't behave impulsively like that. Which meant this tower had brought out another side of her. She was unpredictable. Dangerous. And she had that leashed ogre to enforce her whims.
Now Dr. Terry was saying that Micah believed in those same conspiracies that derailed Chris's career.
That changed nothing. She was dangerous, and Eddie was still in here somewhere.
"Forget it," he said.
Dr. Terry hugged him. "Thank you for accepting my apology. I promise I've got some soul-searching to do."
"No, I meant forget all that about Micah believing my thesis. Let's get out, then we talk about it." Chris opened the glass door. He pulled Dr. Terry out of the disorienting bullpen of shifting surfaces, and into a plain elevator lobby.
Except there were no elevators.
The dull cinderblock walls had metal frames where an elevator door would open, but they were solid cinderblock inside. No buttons on the wall.
Chris turned around. Across the bullpen, through the glass doors opposite this one, Micah screamed at them. He couldn't hear her, but the fury in her wide eyes was evident. She yelled at Roberts, stopped him from cutting through the central room, then waved him down the side hallway.
She yelled something else at Chris, then took the other hallway.
They were circling the building to reach them.
"But you do forgive me, right?" Dr. Terry rubbed his shoulders. "Or you'll try to? Obviously, it'll take time. The important thing is, it's not about my reputation. It's about being at peace with myself. And I'd be more at peace if you forgave me."
"They're coming after us." If Chris was going to risk running into one of them, better it be the frail sixty-year-old. He tugged Dr. Terry down the hallway. "We need to find the stairs before they find us."
Dr. Terry hurried after him. "I know, I'll work my Rolodex to find you more work. I hurt your career, so I'll do my best to repair it."
"Sure, that'll be great." The hallway was low, narrow, and dark. The air was still, with a smell of mildew. Thirty yards ahead, it ended in another lobby.
They reached the lobby. The hallway turned to run down the next side of the building. In the lobby, yellow lights revealed a single elevator door. Chris mashed the down button.
"Micah!" Dr. Terry's cheery voice sent a chill down Chris's back.
He turned to see Micah striding towards them, reddish gray hair flowing behind. She held something small and black. A taser, or maybe pepper spray. Chris couldn't tell with her still in the dark hallway.
Chris pressed the down button repeatedly.
Back the way they'd came, way down past the first lobby, Roberts' bulky form lumbered toward them.
Trapped.
The elevator groaned somewhere above. Pulleys squeaked.
Dr. Terry walked to meet Micah. "Let's take a breath for a moment. We all want the same thing." He paused for a second, like a thought had just occurred to him. "I can do so much for your organization. I'm destined for great things."
A shimmering violet mass bulged out of the wall. Organic, pulsing. It enveloped Dr. Terry, flattened against the tile floor, lost substance.
Chris stared, slack jawed, at Micah Rayner. Her eyes widened. She covered her mouth with wrinkled hands.
The hallway between them was empty. The wall and floor clean, no sign of any organic, shimmering mass. Dr. Terry was gone.
30
Roberts crashed into Chris from behind.
The tile floor rushed up to meet him. Pain in his shoulder.
Animal instinct took over. Chris fought to escape not Roberts, but the cold tile.
"Let me up," he pleaded. His cheek rubbed on the floor, over a bump. Chris gasped, expecting the bump to grow and rise.
The giant bodyguard pinned Chris tighter.
The bump remained a bump.
Micah issued a breathless order. "We keep moving."
Roberts hauled Chris to his feet. "Where to?" he asked.
Chris pulled his backpack taught against his back, and rearranged the blueprints that Roberts had creased. He held his prybar tight. He considered swinging it into Roberts' knee, but he feared the big man would absorb the blow and retaliate.
He couldn't run. Roberts was too close. And even if he did, what was stopping that thing from taking him, like it had Dr. Terry?
And Leon.
"Is that what happened to Leon?" he asked.
Chris's lungs pumped faster as he realized, "My son is in here. Forget your exploration. I have to get Eddie out."
Roberts shoved Chris to follow Micah. He had no choice, until they gave him an opening. He squeezed his fists around the crowbar.
"Did you know it would happen?" Chris demanded.
Roberts answered him from behind. "We didn't know." His deep voice sounded genuinely remorseful.
"Even after Leon?"
Micah raised a hand. "Stop talking," she whispered.
"The situation has become dangerous," Roberts said. "I make the calls, until we're in the clear. If Chris is going to help us find answers, he needs information. The mo
re we tell him, the quicker this goes."
Micah ignored him. The reached the corner of the building. Another lobby devoid of elevators or stairs. They turned, headed towards the elevator bank where they'd first come up.
"Boss," Roberts repeated. "Chris needs information."
"Keep your information to yourself because I'm not helping you." He imagined swinging the crowbar at Roberts' knees. "My son's in here. As soon as we find some stairs, I'm going to find him."
Micah walked faster. Chris tried to keep himself in the center of the hallway, as far as possible from either wall.
"Boss," Roberts said, "are we on the same page?"
Micah whirled around. "Chris is hired labor. A tool. Don't put him on the same level as us."
Chris made himself small. Farther from the walls, and it let his captors focus on each other.
Roberts had set aside his submissiveness. "I don't care what you call him. I want to know what this new building can do. But it's obviously dangerous. To keep you safe, I'm finishing this job as soon as possible. If more information helps Chris find us answers more quickly, then we give him more information."
Micah tapped her taser against her open palm. "The more he knows, the more likely he'll get in the way."
"In the way of what?" Roberts asked. "We don't even know what this is yet."
"I'm starting to get an idea," Micah said. "Let's not discuss this here. The elevator may be safer."
"How about outside?" Chris said. "Outside would be safest."
"Whatever took Dr. Terry and Leon," Roberts said, "that was in the outer hallways. We should go in there." He tapped the wall between them and the bullpen.
"No," Chris said, "there's something in there." Whatever he'd seen lurching behind the frosted glass and in the sub basement was different from what had taken Dr. Terry. More defined. More intentioned in its movement.
"I agree with the architect," Micah said. "I suspect the tower's central spaces may be more dangerous than the outer corridors, even with the... hazards that have taken our friends."
Roberts nodded, and they headed for the elevator.
31
As they reached the lobby and moved into the elevator, Chris looked again into the bullpen.
The glass walls separating it from the lobby now swirled with the same surface movement as everything inside.
Chris backed away, toward the elevator. "Is it spreading?"
"Or it's reaching for us." Roberts pulled Chris into the elevator.
Micah stood in the lobby, head cocked to the side, watching the shifting glass.
"You just said it was dangerous, boss. Let's go."
She turned and briskly walked to join them.
The doors slid shut.
Chris reached for the ground floor button, but Roberts' meaty hand gripped his wrist. "Where to, boss?"
"Up. One floor at a time."
Roberts cleared his throat. "How about we put a few floors between us and that LSD kaleidoscope stuff, in case it's pursuing us."
Micah nodded.
Chris lunged again for the ground floor button. Roberts shoved him backwards.
The elevator walls felt tighter than before. The sensation of movement tugged at Chris, as the elevator carried him farther from the exit, father from home, farther from Eddie. Panic creeped in at the edges. "You gotta let me leave. I can't help you here. I design minor renovations, or backyard cottages. I don't know anything about this."
"You know more than you think," Micah said.
"My thesis? I summarized some crazy articles I read online. I'm no expert. Listen, I've got a son to find. Don't you have kids?"
"Yes, you told us about Eddie," Micah said. "If all goes well, we'll help collect him and escort you outside."
"Are you lying to me?" Chris turned to Roberts. "Is she lying?"
Veins in Roberts' neck tensed. "We don't know what we're looking for, or how long it'll take to find. Maybe we shouldn't let a kid wander around in here. We can't guarantee how long we'll be."
His honesty flipped a switch inside Chris. "Can't guarantee how long? You can't even guarantee our safety! Look at Dr. Terry! Or Leon!"
"It will be worth it," Micah said.
"Worth their lives?"
"If they're dead, then yes." Micah spat the words, responding to Chris's anger in kind.
Roberts turned to Micah. "That was an accident, not a sacrifice."
Chris couldn't resist the opportunity of the back of Roberts' head exposed, defenseless. He didn't have space to rear back the prybar, so he jabbed it, wedge-first, at Roberts' skull, throwing all his weight into it.
The iron impacted above the giant's ear, broke skin, scraped against the bone. Bright blood poured down his ear, onto his shirt.
He staggered into the wall, but caught himself.
Chris jumped forward, taking advantage of the space he'd just claimed to rear back this time.
His whole body went tense. Electricity hijacked his muscles. He collapsed. The prybar clanged to the tile floor.
Micah stood over him with her taser. "How bad is it?" she asked.
Roberts groaned. "Give me a minute."
Chris tried to move, but only twitched. He'd blown his chance. No way Roberts would turn his back again.
By the time Chris could sit up, Roberts was standing over him, a rag pressed to the side of his head. Fury in his eyes, then self-control.
"Listen, Micah," he said. "This is what he's going to do. It's what I would do, if I didn't know what I know. Let's bring him in, and maybe he'll get on board."
Micah pressed an elevator button and the car jerked to a stop. "Fine. Show him what we have so far."
32
Eddie's legs were jelly.
He was thirsty.
And he was getting nervous.
They trudged up the stairs, finally reaching the sixteenth floor.
Cam still led the way. She carried her coat. Sweat darkened the back of her red shirt. She pressed her hand against the white cinderblock wall for support.
The stairwell had cement steps. Bare lightbulbs at every landing lit the stairs in a queasy yellow.
"For how fancy it is with all the rooms and offices," Cam said, breathing heavy, "these stairs are worse than a cheap parking garage."
They'd searched several floors below. Regular offices, like on TV. But nothing behind any pictures.
Eddie had felt less helpful with every patch of bare wall they uncovered.
They'd tried some of the other hiding spots from stage 3 of Treasure Hunter X: in a desk drawer, under a potted plant, in a toilet tank, and on top of a bookshelf.
Nothing.
Cam still sounded cheery and hopeful, but Eddie knew she was forcing it. The butterflies in Eddie's gut fluttered faster. Cam's patience would run out. Then he'd be up here all alone.
The building was empty and dull. Eddie hated it. Something about the way the offices were set up. So perfectly uniform. Desks every three feet. Water coolers every fifty feet. Like the whole building was printed out.
But he'd only seen offices on TV, so maybe this was just how they were normally.
Cam grabbed the door handle for the sixteenth floor and waited. "This one feels lucky, right?"
Eddie nodded, since that's what she wanted.
She opened the door.
She inhaled sharply. Stepped back.
Eddie looked inside.
Another office. Short cubicle walls lined in beige carpet. Potted plants marking the regular intersections of the walkways. Tall black bookshelves along the outer walls. No windows.
A stranger stood in the middle of the walkway.
He stood atop a chair, and was putting a ceiling tile back.
His khaki pants had pockets all over. He wore a backpack, which adults didn't usually do.
Security.
Eddie's legs tensed. They were caught. They'd never run fast enough.
But security guards wore uniforms. And Eddie didn't think they'd look as ang
ry as this man did. His lips curled up in a sneer.
And there was something wrong with his eyes. His head pointed at Cam and then Eddie, but his eyes moved around too much.
"You kids shouldn't be up here. Did Micah send you?"
Eddie recognized that name. The man in the driveway had mentioned her. Dad knew who she was.
Cam stood straight so she looked taller. "Yeah, he sent us."
The man sneered. "Micah's a woman."
Cam shrugged. "I just got the email. Haven't met her in person."
The butterflies in Eddie's gut fluttered up into his throat. Cam was a terrible liar.
The man grunted. He licked his sneering lips.
He didn't believe her. Eddie got ready to run. In Treasure Hunter X, when the guards spotted him, he almost never got away. Dad was good at escaping, but Eddie always got too nervous and his sweaty thumbs slipped off the controller.
When the guards caught you, they'd throw you outside. But this man wasn't a security guard. He was just angry. Angry adults were dangerous.
The man walked towards them. "You have any luck yet?"
Cam snuck a hand onto Eddie's back. Her fingers dug into his shoulder. They nudged him towards the stairs, then gripped him firm. Be ready to run, but not yet.
Eddie wanted to spew. He never escaped the guards. But he couldn't tell that to Cam without this guy hearing.
"No luck yet," Cam said. "What about you?"
The man kept walking towards them. His eyes jumped around like he was spotting a million fireflies. "Tell me what you've seen so far."
Eddie pulled towards the stairs. Cam held him back.
They needed to start running now. Without a head start, the man would easily catch them.
"We've looked in all the hiding spots below us," Cam said.
"Hiding spots?" His thick eyebrows furrowed over his dancing eyes.
As he got closer, he broke into a sprint. Cam tried to jerk away, but the man grabbed her arm.
"Ow!" she cried. "Get the fuck off me."
He dragged her through the doorway.
Eddie froze. Cam had let go of him. The stairs were open. He could run.