An elevator took them to an unknown floor, a bit higher than the barracks. The hallway on this floor was twice as wide as theirs. Stan, Willis, and the officers climbed on a platform hovering in front of them. At the end of the platform, a panel display sat atop a small stand. Stan approached and placed his hand it.
“Conference Room D,” Stan said.
“Access to this area is restricted,” came an electronic voice. “Please enter authorization code.” Stan punched in several numbers. “Code authorized.”
The platform lurched as it moved down the white hallway, gliding effortlessly. Door after door passed them in a blur. Several other platforms passed with various official looking people going in other directions. Willis lost all sense of how far they were traveling as he took in his surroundings. They must be clear at the other end of the facility.
The platform slowed to a halt in front of a set of wooden doors. The trim-work and golden handles hinted at the ornate setting inside. The officers took position on either side of the door, and Stan approached placing his hand on the touch pad. A second later, the doors opened automatically.
“Your appointment is inside, Willis.” Stan moved to the side.
“Aren’t you coming in?” Willis turned to stare at him.
“Unfortunately, no. I haven’t been invited.” Stan’s face showed his disappointment.
Willis stepped inside the room, the doors shutting silently behind him. The plush carpet under his feet felt foreign. The walls were a deep shade of crimson with yellow drapes framing panels meant to appear like windows, each displaying views from around the Alliance. A wooden table lay before him lined with expensive swiveling chairs. He reached out to touch the table, unfamiliar with its feel after years of the endless metal of the station.
Willis gazed at the other end of the room where a grey-haired man with wire-framed glasses entered, then sat at the table. His black robe was trimmed in the same crimson as the walls. He studied Willis for a moment, his hands folded on the table in front of him. “Nothing so natural as the grain of our planet’s creation. Must feel exhilarating after years aboard a sterile space station.”
“Who are you?” Willis pulled his hands from the table and straightened.
The man stood and stepped out from the end of the table, clasping his hands solemnly in front of him. “I am the humble servant of the World Coalition and the protector of the Law.”
“Chairman DeGraaf,” Willis blurted and then blushed. His mind raced. Part of him wanted to bow. Another to run. Still another to scream in anger.
“I see life in space has not completely shut you out of the comings and goings of life on the surface. I am pleased by that. Have a seat.” He motioned to one of the chairs near him. Willis slowly made his way to the chair and slid into the seat. DeGraaf did not sit down.
“Sir, I wasn’t aware that I would be meeting with you today.”
“My young friend, the ‘sir’ is completely unnecessary. Please call me ‘Chairman.’”
Willis tried not to show that he didn’t see the difference as ‘Chairman’ seemed every bit as formal. The chairman’s tone was one of polish as if he had used the line many times.
“I am sorry to interrupt what I’m sure is a very busy schedule,” the chairman continued. “When I heard that you had returned to the surface, I felt compelled to travel here to meet with you.”
“It’s no problem. Is there something I can do for you, Chairman?”
DeGraaf circled around Willis’s chair and crouched down on his right side. He smiled, the corner of his eyes wrinkling beneath his glasses.
“It is a wonderful sight to see a young person so willing to help another. It is people like you, Willis, that this world needs, people whose first question is how they can help another. Despite all our hard work to build a safe world under the protection of the Law, there are still those who would seek to advance their own desires.”
The chairman spoke in a soft voice. Where was he going with his line of reasoning?
DeGraaf stood again and placed his hands atop the back of the chair next to Willis. He looked away as though in deep thought.
“My dear young man, you may have heard many call you ‘the hope of the Western Alliance,’ and I believe they are right in doing so. My hope for you is much bigger, though.”
“Bigger?” Willis inquired.
“Yes. You bring more than hope for any one alliance. Your service to them is service to the entire Coalition. You serve all of us. You serve—me.”
Willis shuddered at the last words.
“Young man, I asked you here today because I need to know that I can count on you. More than anyone, you stand to win the Chase this year. By the glory of our Law, I cannot tell you what to do, but I ask you to hear me.”
DeGraaf spun Willis’s chair toward him and knelt, clasping Willis’s hands in his own. Willis admired that he could be kneeling and still be so in control of the room.
“Willis, despite the peace we have brought to the world, there exists unrest in some of the alliances. People who wish to undo all that we hold dear, all that protects us from the dangers of the world prior to the Great Collapse. You can stop them.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You, the symbol of hope for us all, will have one glorious opportunity to grace us with a new law. This year, more than any than I can remember, we must ensure the safety of the world. The Law has been a near perfect guardian against chaos, but I’m afraid it presently serves to tie our hands from doing what must be done.”
DeGraaf took a long breath to let his point linger. His eyes grew sad before continuing.
“My one desire is to protect our people from ever again experiencing the horror of chaos and uncertainty, but I must admit there are limits to what the Law permits me to do. How can I serve my people when the very Law meant to ensure that service limits me?”
He pushed to his feet with his hands open in front of him as though wearing handcuffs.
“Those limits have prevented Coalition leadership from meeting peaceably with the voices of ignorance and showing them the value of order. We must be given the power to advance the protections of the Law, to convince the unconvinced.”
Willis considered what ‘convincing the unconvinced’ might mean. The chairman’s words were so certain. He spoke sounding so calculated and so concerned with the well-being of all, yet Willis couldn’t quench the mistrust rising within him. It must have shown in his face because the chairman’s expression switched from pleading to serious.
“Willis,” he said, “I need to know that I can count on you. I need to know that you will do what is necessary to preserve the world we live in. Can you promise me that you will protect us all?”
Willis paused before uttering, “Y-yes, Chairman.” It felt like the safe answer, but he couldn’t help but wonder what the chairman meant.
A long pause filled the room, and DeGraaf stepped backward. He clasped his hands again in front of him and walked to the edge of the table, sitting again in the chair where he had started.
“I’m glad to have met you, Willis,” he declared. “It is good to know the extent to which you stand with us. I believe Mr. Jacobson is ready to escort you to your quarters. Thank you for your time.”
With that, DeGraaf turned away from him. Willis stood staring at the chairman trying to decipher what he’d been told. He walked to the door and opened it. He could see Stan trying to catch a glimpse of the chairman before he turned to Willis.
“Shall we get you back?” Stan pointed in the direction they’d come the instant the doors shut.
“I guess so.” Willis climbed aboard the platform.
“What a privilege. To meet the chairman himself.”
“Sure. I guess.”
“You must be the best racer in years, to get an audience with the chairman. To think, the World Coalition might be pulling for you in the race. It must fill you with certainty as to how the Chase will turn out.”
“Ye
ah. Certainty.” Willis was anything but certain.
Chapter Thirty
Three days later, Stan escorted Wills and the others to the transport, pressing through crowds even larger than the ones that welcomed them. Everyone pressed forward for a final glimpse of the team before they huddled around their monitors to watch the opening ceremonies that evening. The transport was headed to the Southern Federation of Allied States where the Chase was to be held this year.
Willis breathed a sigh to relief and readied himself for takeoff. His conversation with the chairman had unnerved him, but Jaden had reminded him that he knew the truth about the world. The chairman could do little to stop him from passing a law to undo slavery, a law they’d discussed several times over the past few nights. Beyond that, their days in the Alliance headquarters had been an endless series of press conferences and appearances. All four of them were tired of answering the same questions over and over.
Perryn was always flooded with questions about her relationship with her teammates. She and Willis had agreed the first night to be careful about what they said as it became obvious the Alliance was anticipating another love story like Willis’s parents. Still, she couldn’t help blushing once or twice when a reporter hinted at a relationship between them.
Jaden had been particularly adept at answering questions about his background. Reporters seemed bent on trapping him into an unfair question, but he always managed to turn the situation around. He had an ability to joke with the reporters, and sometimes the entire group would erupt in laughter. Other times, he responded with a question for the reporters that would silence the room.
Kane was left alone for the most part. Willis guessed that his background was hardly something the Alliance planned to showcase. Kane acted more than content to sit quietly during the press conferences, and Willis envied him as a result.
Mostly, the journalists wanted to know how confident Willis was of winning the Chase. He’d been asked about his chances repeatedly. His standard answer had become that they “had not trained for a lifetime to lose.” The response always brought applause. Currently, they sat on board the transport hoping for a few hours of peace.
“Guys, this is it. My time with you is almost complete,” Stan told the group.
“What do you mean?” Jaden leaned forward. The group had developed quiet an affection for Stan. As plastic as he was, his excitement about the Chase was genuine, and navigating their schedules would have been impossible without him.
“The Chase is tomorrow. The opening ceremonies take place tonight, and I’ll go back to shuffling papers for the Alliance.”
“Really? I’m sorry to hear that,” Perryn said genuinely.
“Don’t be. These past few days have been the best I’ve had in a long time. How many people get to say they personally worked with the winning Chase team?”
Silence lingered between them all. Stan looked down and breathed a sigh as if letting go of his moments in the spotlight. “We hit the ground running when we get there.”
Stan was not kidding. The second they were off the transport, the staff ushered them away to prepare for the opening ceremonies. Four rooms awaited them, each with a team of people ready to work. For the next few hours, Willis was trimmed, shaved, and dressed. He stood in front of the mirror staring at an image that was no longer familiar to him.
They’d dressed him in a perfectly tailored black suit and yellow shirt, complete with Alliance insignia cufflinks. His hair was perfect. His shoes were shined. He was ready to be paraded around before the world. I look like a bumblebee. Willis shook his head.
He stepped out into the empty hallway, occasionally tugging at a sleeve or smoothing the jacket with his palms. He wasn’t used to these kinds of clothes. He wasn’t sure he wanted to ever be used to them.
“Willis?” Perryn’s voice came from behind him.
Willis turned around to see Perryn like he’d never seen her. Her sensible blue station uniform was gone. Instead, she stood there in a floor-length, golden yellow and black gown. Her nails were painted, and a delicate gold necklace with the Alliance insignia draped her neck. Her brown hair wasn’t in its usual sensible ponytail. Rather, it had been expertly pulled together behind her head, allowing the remainder to fall in flowing curls down her back. Time froze as the rest of the room faded, and his lungs turned to stone, leaving him unable to breathe. What he loved the most, though, was that he could still see the same unsure Perryn beneath the perfectly applied make-up. Her well-toned arms and strong hands, betraying years of training, clasped nervously in front of her.
“You look incredible,” he whispered after catching his breath.
“I feel stupid.” She stared at the floor.
Willis stepped toward her and took her hand, which shook when he touched her. For several seconds, their gaze met silently. Her fingers slowly curled around his, and she searched his eyes. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. He wanted to stay there in that empty hallway and never keep another secret from her again. He wanted to know her and to be known by her. They didn’t say a word, but much was said in the silent space between them.
“Don’t let us interrupt.” Jaden laughed. Willis looked over to see Jaden and Kane standing there in similar formal dress.
“Shut up, Jaden,” Perryn said with a smirk. Her cheeks flushed, a lingering trace of the moment they’d shared. “I’d wipe that smile off your face if I believed I had any chance of walking over there in these ridiculous shoes.”
“And you are?” Jaden raised a brow. He held out a hand to her, inviting a handshake. “I thought Perryn was going to run with us, but you don’t look anything like her.”
She swatted at his hand and missed, stumbling briefly in her heels. “I’m warning you. I’ll hurt you if you get close enough.”
“Remind me, Kane, to stay out of arm’s reach, then.”
Kane grunted a short laugh.
“So this is it.” Willis placed his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah. In two days, this will be all over.” Jaden bit his lower lip. He looked down as if considering the significance of what those two days might bring.
Schwipp! The door at the end of the hallway opened. Stan stood there in a suit that looked even more expensive than his others. Willis hadn’t believed that possible.
“Okay, gang, here we go. You all look great. Getting you to the ceremony on time is my final task, and I’m not going to have you show up late.” Stan tapped his watch with a finger.
He ushered them through the door to the elevator, which stopped and opened onto a hangar. The humidity suffocated Willis as he stepped out. Willis couldn’t believe the thickness of the air in this part of the world. Talk among those helping him get ready was that the track had been built far into the jungle in an area formerly known as the Amazon prior to the Collapse. Willis had never been to a jungle, but at least he knew how hot it would be.
A hovering platform, similar to the one at Alliance Headquarters, waited for them, larger and decorated with a Western Alliance insignia on the front. Willis ran his fingers along the edge of one of the eagles. What would the days ahead hold?
“Your shoes are designed to hold you to the platform,” Stan informed them. “Feel free to wave to the crowds. You won’t fall.”
“Don’t count on it,” Perryn said, giving another unsure glance at her shoes.
Jaden laughed.
“Hey, Stan,” Willis said, climbing onto the platform beside this man who had briefly been a friend. “Thanks for everything.”
“No,” Stan said, “thank you, Willis.”
Sure enough, as the platform moved, the magnetic floor activated, gluing their feet to the surface. Willis remembered the track on the station that had used the same technology.
It was the only race he’d ever lost.
It was not a reminder he needed right now.
The hanger they left was one of many that opened to a large roadway outside. Scanning up and down, Willis could see the othe
r eleven alliance platforms emerging from other hangers, each bearing a team of racers dressed according to their alliance.
At the end of the road lay the exterior of a massive arena where the opening ceremonies would take place. The circular structure was made up of twelve gleaming metallic arches that extended from the top of the arena to the ground. Between the arches, multiple levels of seating allowed dignitaries and citizens of different alliances to gather in their own section, the most important seated at the point created by the meeting of two arches closest to where their racers would enter. The reflective surface between the arches glowed orange in the setting sun. Underneath, each contained a massive entryway through which one platform would pass, allowing all the alliances to appear simultaneously, symbolizing the cooperation of the Coalition. The roar of the crowd could be heard over the wall as the platforms positioned themselves at each archway.
How much did the construction of this monstrosity bankrupt this alliance? Willis gaped at the structure.
The chairman’s voice resounded from somewhere inside. “Citizens of the World Coalition, our hosts, the Southern Federation of Allied States welcome you to this year’s annual Chase. It is my humble honor to present to you the very best that each alliance has to offer. Each is prepared to advance the Law. It is the Law that protects us all!”
“The Law is good!” shouted the crowd, rabid to see their runners.
“The Law that preserves us all,” DeGraaf continued.
“The Law remains!”
“The Law that saves us all.”
“The Law is good!”
“Citizens, I present to you your racers.”
The crowd launched to its feet as the platforms appeared through the archways.
Willis resisted the urge to cover his ears as the crowd’s cheers swelled to a volume that vibrated the platform beneath his feet. Camera flashes came from everywhere. Flags were waving.
As they emerged from their alliance’s archway, Willis could see the whole arch was framed in a sea of yellow and black dressed citizens and dignitaries of the Western Alliance. Here and there, shouts of his name could be heard. He found himself scanning the faces. I wonder if my parents are here somewhere.
The Chase Page 20