by Drew Cordell
“Welcome,” a man’s voice said over the speaker system overhead. “I do apologize about the journey here; I keep meaning to improve the tunnel leading down, but I do not get many visitors.” His voice had a refined, aristocratic tone to it which suggested nobility and instantly reminded me of the way most people in Olympus talked.
“Can he hear us?” Grez asked.
The robots leading us disregarded the question completely.
“I need to get these Spinners back to work. Time is a precious commodity, I hope you understand. Fear not, I will light your way, my dearest of guests,” the voice overhead said.
The robots pivoted on their bases, moving through our group and returning to the vault door at the end of the room. The robots behind us exited the vault door and it reset, once again shutting us in. Blue lights appeared on the floor, surging in intensity and guiding our walk.
“Shall we?” Grez asked, starting forward along the path.
Grez and his people held their weapons cautiously but looked more relaxed now. There was no doubt this was the place we were looking for. The surfaces of the room and the hallway reminded me of Olympus. It had the same type of quality and the same strange blend of opulence and simplicity that accented many of the utilitarian segments of the upper tier of New York. In fact, it looked a lot like the building that housed the Omniscience Engine.
We stopped when we reached the windows of the hallway. We were several hundred feet above the ground of the unfathomably huge space below. Even more impressive was the vehicle housed to our left. It looked at least a thousand feet long and many stories tall. Deep sweeping curves contoured the outline of the impossibly large ship. Huge thrusters, much like the ones on modern airships lined the sides, and there was a central one which looked rooted in the center of the ship’s body with a diameter that occupied almost the entire width of the ship. It looked old despite its colossal size and elegance, like it was from a different time altogether.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Grez stammered as we took in the sight.
“There will be time for sightseeing later. Please proceed along the lit pathway,” the voice overhead said politely.
We walked, but our steps were slow as we continued to stare at the unfathomable feat of engineering. I took a quick glance out the window on our right. Now that I had seen the ship on the left, it looked like there might have been another identical ship housed in the other hangar. Though empty, it had the same support infrastructure and an identical layout.
The lights on the floor continued to guide our way, leading us through drawn out corridors and winding turns as we descended into the depths of the lab. I was surprised by the amount of empty space we moved through, struggling to decipher the function or reasoning of having such sprawling lengths of featureless passageways. I stole a glance behind us more than once, half expecting to see some army of spherical robots ready to ambush us where we would have no hope of escape. It wasn’t logical though; they wouldn’t go to all the effort of bringing us this far only to kill us in one of the hallways.
“You are almost here. I do apologize for the lengthy walk,” the voice overhead boomed.
Five more minutes of walking led us to a larger hallway which grew as we moved, leading to a heavy set of white doors at the end. As we approached, the doors opened and we walked inside the room where a well-dressed man was waiting. He was neither short nor tall, but his opulence was evident even from here. He wore a dressy gray suit and was adorned with various pieces of expensive, old-looking jewelry. Rings with vibrant gemstones glittered on his fingers, and gold, silver, and platinum chains hung from his neck, dropping down onto his chest which was partly revealed by the unbuttoned white shirt he wore under his suit jacket. Spherical robots moved in front of us, quickly collecting all of our belongings and setting them neatly on a table which seemed to have been cleared for this very purpose.
“You’ll get everything back when we’re finished talking,” the man assured us as the robots worked, surprisingly thorough and invasive in their search of hidden blades and stowaway firearms. The robots moved out of the way once everything had been collected, moving to the walls of the expansive room. It looked like some sort of inventor’s lab. Jasper and his robotic companion were enthralled by the surroundings. I tried to focus on the man walking toward us, but the surroundings were distracting me too. Rows of white composite tables were stacked neatly with machines, work stations, and pieces of technology in all sorts of shapes and colors. Bins of spare parts and discarded inventions rested below the tables, beckoning to be investigated.
Paintings, tapestries, and virtual sculptures embellished the walls of the large room, making it look more like a museum than an office or place of work. Interesting finds were on display on pedestals as well, relics of times long passed. I couldn’t identify the function of many of the objects, but felt drawn to them nonetheless. This was a room I could explore for hours without boredom. I longed to learn the secrets and explore the rich heritage of the surrounding relics. Most impressive was the massive creature of dark bone hanging from the tall ceiling of the room. It looked like a whale or some other ancient creature of the sea I had seen in old picture books as a child. Steel pins connected the pristine polished bones to one another. I tensed as the bones moved, mimicking the creature’s swimming motion in almost perfect silence as the contraption swayed above.
“One of my favorite pieces in my collection,” the man said as he completed his walk to us.
I focused my attention fully on the man for the first time. He had chiseled features and longer blonde hair which was slicked back and combed. But something was wrong. There were deep cracks in his amber pupils where glowing golden light bled through. I immediately reached for the weapon which was no longer in my hip holster but the Builder, as he called himself, gave me a knowing look.
“He’s an Ascendant,” I seethed to the others who had not yet drawn the same conclusion, probably still engrossed with the surroundings. Mary and Marwin had their eyes glued to the massive bone display overhead before I spoke. Now they were also guarded and ready to act.
The Ascendant made no attempt to mask his amusement or what he really was. “I am the last of my kind here. Do you know what it is like to be the only person living in an entire country? I was abandoned by something I could never believe in.”
“It doesn’t change what you are,” I seethed.
The friendliness was gone now; the man looked tired and defeated. “Yet I do not judge you for being a Champion or whatever you like to call yourself in New York. Your kind has just as much to do with what has happened here as mine.”
Grez’s booming voice interjected before I could respond. “What are you talking about? How do you know about the Champions?”
The Ascendant turned to face Grez. “We had them here, too. They were not working alone. Never did, never are, never will. You on the other hand, I cannot seem to place. You were not a civilian in the Slums. The Mids maybe, but you do not really act like it either. I’m making some cultural approximations, but each city that is a part of this twisted experiment is more similar than not in every possible way. Ex-Scavenger Guild maybe?”
Grez and the others had yet to come to the same grim realizations Mary, Violet, and I had. They were just beginning to piece together the fact that our society wasn’t unique, that what was happening to New York had happened before in other places.
“Obviously,” the Builder continued, “you would not be here if New York was in pristine condition. No, I suspect your country is on the brink of extinction, especially if you came from your River’s Port. So that trade deal you told my workers you would like to discuss with me… well, that is clearly not possible. At best, you were over-optimistic about your ability to trade. At worst, you were lying to gain an audience with me. Tell me, what year is it for you?”
The Builder’s question alone confirmed my fears. Time was irrelevant, different for each country. It was all just a number, j
ust another piece of data in the cogs of an impossible machine.
Grez ignored the Builder’s forward statement, seeming confused about the question about the year, but he answered it anyway. “2149. I’d really like to know what you’re talking about. You’re telling me the Champions are responsible for the destruction of this city?”
The Builder raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. “They are partially responsible for the destruction of this entire society or country as you probably like to call it.”
The robots lining the walls were watching us with calculating eyes, ready to intervene on behalf of their creator at any moment. Grez seemed aware of the fact, and perhaps that was the only thing keeping him from snapping and going into a fit of rage.
“You’re telling me there was an Absolute Knowledge project in Vermont?” Grez asked.
“There was or is an Absolute Knowledge project in almost every part of the world. You would not believe how much you have time to learn in nearly 300 years. We were never alone, only isolated from the rest of an identical, mirrored world.”
“How did you find this place?” Grez asked. He was very much aware of the fact that this Builder controlled the weapons lab in its entirety, holding all of its secrets and ruins of the city overhead. Without his help, we wouldn’t be making it back to the Harvester’s underground bunker alive. We didn’t even know this man’s intentions yet or why he had allowed us to live.
“What is your name?” the man asked, looking at me and ignoring Grez’s question. There was no hostility in the Builder’s honey eyes, only an inquisitive thirst I recognized all too well.
I stared at him for a moment, hesitating and trying to suppress the torrent of emotions churning within me. I kept a level voice. “Jake. And yours?”
“Jake,” he said, testing the word with a look of satisfaction. “My name is the Builder. I do apologize for almost killing you on your journey through the Maze. I realized very quickly that you were not who I thought you were when one of my Dredgers pulled you under the water. Might I ask how you were able to find your way through the Maze? Until now, I was convinced it was unsolvable.”
I decided to address his statement first. “Who did you think we were?”
“That does not matter now. I would like to know how you were able to pass through the Maze. Years of sending my robots in, and I still don’t know a single solution to make it through.”
I studied him, considering what to say. I could feel Grez’s eyes boring into me from behind, and I didn’t want to upset him further. “We had a map,” I said, not caring to say more than that or comment on the harrowing experience of almost drowning. “Is that your real name?”
“I suppose it is. It is all I have gone by for almost 300 years.”
“You really expect us to believe you’re that old?” Jennifer asked.
The Builder shrugged. “Believe what you want. All countries start fresh in 2039. I was born, printed, manufactured, or whatever you would like to call it in 2266. The year is now 2553. That makes me 287 years old—288 in a month. I am not even sure if I can die, honestly. Now, where did you get the map to find your way through the Maze?”
“That’s our business, not yours,” Grez growled. “What do you want from us?”
“You do not care to waste time on small talk—I can appreciate that. I want your help and in exchange, I am prepared to give you what you must have come here for.”
“And that is?” Grez asked, his voice taking on an angry edge. The Builder was omitting a lot of information, dodging most of our questions.
“The ship you passed on your way through the lab, the ODIN II. It is yours if you help me.”
16 DEAL
∆∆∆
“I’m not too fond of working for someone I know nothing about. I think it would be beneficial to all of us if we could sit down, eat a meal, and talk things over,” Grez said.
The Builder smiled. “I was just about to offer a meal. I am afraid it won’t be Olympus quality, but I have stockpiled quite a bit of preserved rations with a process that preserves most of the food’s flavor and freshness,” the Builder said. “As I have scaled my operations here, it only made sense to farm in case I can one day populate this society with others like myself.”
Jasper beamed. “I myself have created a wonderful preservation machine to turn eel and fish into non-perishable rations. Just last week I ate some fish I processed almost ten years ago, and it was just as good as the day I made it. I would love to show you—” Jasper stopped talking when he noticed Grez’s dark glare. There was nothing but pure malice in that look, deep hatred in its purest form for the foul fish Jasper’s machine yielded.
The Builder looked back and forth between the two men, either not interested enough to ask or piecing the story behind Grez’s glare together through context. He turned back to face Jasper. “That sounds quite interesting. My preservation method is a little different, I am sure. Everything I grow and fish is stored with a cryo freezing process.”
Grez relaxed, some of the hardness in his face softening. “That sounds a lot better than the salted cardboard Jasper makes.”
“If you will please leave your weapons, we can proceed to my dining hall and I will answer as many of your questions as I can. Then, we can get you rested before your big day should you choose to help me. I’ll be sure your equipment is kept safe until you are ready to leave. You’re welcome to change into something more comfortable as well,” he said, eyeing our armor.
Violet arched an eyebrow. “And if we don’t help you?”
The Builder smiled. “You are my guests, not my prisoners. If you would like to leave, you are welcome to. I do not believe you to be a threat to me and my operation here. Should you choose to leave, I will even send you with as much food as you can pack on your boats as a gesture of goodwill. Please, follow me and we will eat and continue what I am sure will be an enthralling conversation. Come, we have so much to discuss and learn from one another.”
After changing out of our armor and leaving it with the rest of our gear, we followed the well-dressed Ascendant to an even larger room where a huge table made of a polished material somewhere between wood and metal stood. The dark table stood out against the sheer whiteness of the floor and walls. Ten matching chairs lined the edges of the rectangular table. We all took our seats, the Builder and Grez sat on opposite sides at the middle of the table. Smaller Spinner robots rolled from the door opposite of the one we had come in. They carried platters piled high with steaming food and pitchers full of cold water and wine. Smaller arms extended from the base of the strange robots, curving around shoulders and placing silverware and empty glasses and plates in front of each of us. I watched with dulled fascination as the massive table which was empty only moments before was loaded with an impossible amount of food.
One of the Spinner robots wheeled over to the Builder, and he whispered something to it. The robot sped off and returned carrying a metal keg and several tall glasses.
“Beer if anyone prefers it,” the Builder remarked. We were all beyond hungry, and eager hands began spooning mountains of food onto big plates. One of the Spinner robots filled one of my cups with water, then held out a wine glass and the taller glass for beer. I pointed at the taller glass and the robot whisked away, moving to the keg and filling my cup to the brim. It placed it in front of me, and I sucked down the frothy foam threatening to spill over the edges, trying to thank the robot, but it was already gone. The beer was good.
I carefully orchestrated my plate, adding big spoonfuls of roasted vegetables, fish garnished with butter and lemon and green herbs, and golden fried potatoes doused in a creamy, spicy sauce. My plate was greedy at best and glutinous at worst. I was about to feel guilty about it until I saw Mary had gathered a similar amount of food for herself. Our plates were dwarfed by Grez’s in a way that defied reason. An impossible monolith of food was constructed in front of him, stacked high into the air. As he moved the plate, the food wobbled, nearl
y toppling off. Grez corrected the movement and managed to get the plate in front of him with some effort.
By the time everyone was ready to eat, we had barely made a dent in the food on the trays in the center. The Builder assured us we didn’t have to eat all of it—he could simply put whatever we didn’t eat through the cryofreeze process and it would be just as fresh as it was before. I hesitated for a moment, staring at my meal. There was a chance it was poisoned, that we would all die if we ate it. It wouldn’t make sense, though. Logic, and the uncomfortable rumbling in my gut, led me to eat knowing the risk of poisoning wasn’t a reasonable suspicion. This Builder had many chances to kill us before now and he hadn’t. He wanted our help with something, but his offer of giving Grez the ODIN II seemed too good to be true, unless it didn’t work anymore and we would have no way to get it out of the hanger. The alternative to eating this feast was unthinkable, however. As I pictured Jasper digging out the preserved fish sticks covered in whatever else was in his pocket at the time, I realized I had I already made my decision. Too hungry to think, I started eating with the others.
The food was incredible, made even better by how hungry we were. Jennifer had stretched rations thin, and even on the relatively short journey here, my belt was a notch and a half tighter.
I washed down fried potatoes with gulps of delicious bitter beer, then ate more of the delectable food.
After a few minutes of silent appreciation for the amazing meal, conversation resumed.
“Now, what is it you want our help with, and why haven’t you been able to do it yourself or have your robots do it?” Grez asked after downing an overloaded fork of fish.
“I need help accessing the lower levels of the lab. I am not entirely sure what waits, but I have been unable to gain access to that area of this facility. I believe you have the means to bypass the vault doors which I’ve found to be quite indestructible against any effort I have been able to synthesize over the years.”
