Chapter 5
He awoke in the early hours of the morning to the sound of birds chirping outdoors. The small window showed the still-dark sky, tending to grey around the edges. The room was softly illuminated by a dull red glow, like embers in a fireplace. He looked sleepily for the source of illumination, and his fingertips brushed across her bare shoulders, ringing in glowing hair.
Ah yes. He remembered the events of the night before, and smiled. He lay back in bed, feeling the warmth of her skin against his. A few dull embers of euphoria lay warm inside of him, playful endorphins chasing around his bloodstream.
He put on his glasses sleepily, and told his constructs to take it easy on him. Information trickled into his mind leisurely as he watched the sunlight cross the ceiling. Then, one of the reminders caught his attention. He had an interview with the Medusa corporation this morning. He groaned, and then smiled wryly to himself. So much for his date not running late.
He started to wonder what this all meant anyway. Did it mean he was done grieving? Did he want to be with her in a long-term relationship? Did he really know her well enough?
However, before he could finish this train of thought, he felt her stir beside him. She rolled over towards him, pretty and disheveled, hair bunched in an uneven halo around her face. She smiled, eyes still clouded with sleep.
“Morning. How did you sleep?”
“Pretty well. I was tired.”
“Ahuh, I know what you mean…”
She rolled out of bed, pulling on a thin cotton robe. He followed suit, pulling on his clothes and tossing the condom in the recycle bin. Everything that wouldn’t biodegrade went in there. Everything else was dumped into the sewer, where the Gardener processed it into fertilizer. The city was very nearly a closed system.
He made a concerted effort to drink a cup of coffee. He wasn’t a coffee drinker, but he knew he’d need the stuff to get through the interview.
She smiled as he made a face.
“Something wrong with my coffee?”
“No, it’s fine coffee. It’s just that it’s coffee.”
“Fair enough. You want some tea?”
“Please.”
She set about making it. As soon as a cup of chamomile had steeped, he added a spoonful of sugar, stirred, and drank it.
“So, what’s going on here?” she asked, stirring her coffee.
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
“I think you seem like a great guy who I’d like to get to know better. How about you?”
“That sounds about right. Trading guy for girl, naturally. “
“Naturally.”
“Anyway, I’ve got a meeting in about an hour. Would you like to do something this evening?”
“I’ll have to think about it. I’ll message you when I decide.”
“Okay.”
He leaned forward and, hesitating for a moment, kissed her gently.
“See you later.”
And then he was gone.
The Medusa corporation loomed before him. The place was a modern building, clean and white and tall. The glass was intentionally sprayed with a compound that made it sparkle like diamond, which had the convenient side effect of making it totally impossible to see what was happening inside. Corporate espionage was taken seriously these days.
The
doors were built according to the same philosophy: serious,
bulletproof affair of Plexiglas and carbon steel. He fished out
the authentication code attached to the email, and sent it.
A minute later, a large man came to admit him. The man was understated. He had the politely deferent attitude of a servant or a waiter, but the man was nearly eight feet tall! He dressed like a butler and carried a kinetic baton, quite capable of snapping your head off. The man was a clear, polite notification that if he spoke about what he saw in this building to anyone, he would die, quickly.
The shiny modern building above was, as it turned out, a façade. As soon as he entered, he was whisked down dozens of flights of stairs and a long elevator ride, tunneling deep into the bowels of the earth. He was out of breath by the time they finally emerged into the largest room Damien had ever occupied. It stretched out in all directions beyond the realm of vision. It was round, and concentric rings of cinderblock steps descended down it. It was lined with buildings and generators. The whole effect was strangely reminiscent of the Greek amphitheater.
If that were the case, then the show was a strange drama indeed. Convex mirrors that reflected far more than light spun at breakneck speeds around a central point. Spinning beams of light twisted themselves into a contorted spiral. And there in the middle, he caught a glimpse of something, through a gap in the world.
If an angel was starving, insane and wrathful, it might have looked out at you with eyes like the thing he saw. A mirror whirled around and the writhing knot of malice sank out of sight.
“Welcome to the Labs,” said the guard.
***************************************
Continue to Chapter Six
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