The Lonely Whelk

by Ariele Sieling

  “Okay,” John said, reappearing behind her. “I’m going to start sticking these through the Doors. Let me know when you get all of them done, and I’ll teach you how to send them through.”

  “Can’t you just throw them?” Kaia asked.

  “Dear me,” John replied, gathering up an armload. “I never would have expected that kind of question from you. Cognitive mathematics, my dear, cognitive mathematics.”

  He disappeared. Kaia frowned and began to calculate.

  “No calculating!” John yelled from the other side of the room. “It’s slowing you down.”

  “I’m just trying to figure it out!” Kaia yelled back.

  “Well stop and just stuff canisters. I’ll explain it in a minute, and then you can do the math later.”

  Kaia sighed. A moment later a loud grating noise filled the air. It seemed to be coming from everywhere at the same time.

  John reappeared behind her. “Don’t worry. They’re just shutting down the building. The noise only lasts a minute.”

  “Why is it so loud?” Kaia asked.

  John rolled his eyes. “Our last head of security had this thing about warning everyone about what was going on. But he didn’t want to just, you know, say it, because then, heaven forbid someone who wasn’t supposed to know found out...” He began to shout as he headed back towards the Doors with another armload. “…so he created a system of really irritating sounds which play over the public announcement system whenever something important is happening.”

  Kaia stuffed the last canister, grabbed an armload and followed John.

  “What do I do?” she asked when she reached the Door where he stood.

  “You’re done?” John asked, turning.

  “There aren’t any canisters left,” she said.

  “Good. That means we have five extra. I stopped here.” He pointed at the Door in front of him. “This is easy, but you have to know what to look for... er, feel for. Because the Door is driven by brainwaves, you have to consciously direct the canister to the other side. That means that your hand has to go through. You will feel some pressure and the canister will get super light, and then it will get super heavy, almost like something is pulling it from the other side. Let it pull for a count of three seconds, and then you can let go. Got it?”

  “Direct with my brain, stick my hand in, pressure and light canister, then heavy pulling canister, three seconds, let go,” Kaia repeated. “But how do I direct it with my brain?”

  “Just read the name of the location—” John pointed to the name that was neatly printed on the frame above each Door, “and then stick your hand through.”

  “Okay,” Kaia replied hesitantly.

  “Oh, and you can only go slowly on the first two, and then you have to move like the wind. I’ll take this half, you take that half.” A moment later, John was off, doing each Door in six seconds or less.

  Kaia took a deep breath. The name at the top of her Door was Station Way. She fixed the thought in her mind and then plunged her hand holding a canister into the strange, blue, almost watery rectangle in front of her. As it went in, she gasped. The sensation was tingly and strange, not unlike the feeling of lukewarm water, but at the same time that her hand was floating, it was also being pulled in a million directions at once. She couldn’t feel the canister. A panicky feeling began to bubble up her throat. What if she had dropped it?

  All at once she felt a heavy pressure in her hand. There it was! And suddenly, someone or something was dragging on it pulling on it. She tightened her grip and counted the seconds. One... two... three... the dragging was so intense that she almost couldn’t hold on anymore. She let go. Her hand still tingled. She pulled it out of the Door and looked at it, examining it from all angles.

  “Weird, huh?” John asked, stopping next to her with an armload of canisters. “I should also mention that you don’t want to leave your hand in for more than 30 seconds, or the rest of you will start to get pulled through. It’s slow, so you can definitely stop it, but just so you know.” He grinned. “So what do you think?”

  “It’s so weird!” she exclaimed. “But is there any biological impact? Do I age faster by going through Doors, or maybe just my hand ages faster? Or maybe I stay young longer...”

  John’s grin widened. “Don’t worry about that for now. We just need to get these canisters through the Doors. I’ll race you. On your mark… get set...”

  “Wait,” Kaia interrupted. “Can we race after I do one more? You did promise me two slow ones after all and I want to make sure I’ve got it right.”

  “No problem,” John said, still moving from Door to Door so quickly that it looked like he was throwing the canisters through.

  Kaia moved to the next Door and repeated the process. It wasn’t any less strange the second time – and she loved it.

  “Okay,” she said as she picked up a third one. “Now we can race. I’ll do this half, you do the other. On your mark... get set.... GO!”

  They were off, one canister after the next after the next.

  Maxwell and Maddy arrived at the Globe mid-afternoon.

  “Where is Perla?” Maddy asked, holding tightly to Maxwell’s arm.

  “I don’t know, but look at all the people coming out of the building!” Maxwell pointed to the Globe, where a large number of individuals were flowing out like the unchecked swells from a broken dam. “I think they started without us!”

  Maddy gasped, outraged. “How could they?” she demanded.

  “We had better just go in,” Maxwell stated in a very irritated tone of voice. “She never wanted to help us at all! She was just using me to get the key!”

  “What a horrible woman!” Maddy exclaimed. “I think we should probably not ever speak to her again. At least, I won’t!”

  “I am seriously considering it.”

  The two strode rapidly forward towards the building, working their way around to one side of the crowd and squeezing through the door, muttering comments about having forgotten a purse or briefcase. One gentleman gave them a very concerned look. “It had better be important!” he barked. “This is an emergency shutdown, you know! That means we all have to leave as quickly as possible!”

  They slipped into the lobby and moved to the side, out of the way of the mass of people. There were three streams: one from the elevator, and one from each set of stairs.

  “We should take the elevator,” Maddy said.

  “Why?”

  “Because people aren’t supposed to use the elevator during emergencies. I bet it will be easier.”

  “Okay.” Maxwell held onto Maddy’s hand tightly for a moment, and then turned to her. “You go first. No one will notice you if you are quiet. They never do. It’s like you’re Houdini.”

  “Okay,” Maddy whispered. She let go of his hand and slipped into the crowd. Maxwell tensed. He always felt a little naked without her.

  Now it was his turn to sneak over to the elevator silently – like a bat, or a fox, or something that sneaked silently. That said, being silent might not be all that necessary at the moment. The mob of people talked wildly, waving their hands in excitement while dashing forward as if someone were giving away the most delicious meal, steaming and hot, on the street. There were frantic conversations going on all around him:

  “My razor-backed rabbit tails are going to…”

  “…you think it’s the Door Room again? That would be twice this month!”

  “I can’t imagine why…”

  “…can’t be sure someone doesn’t just pull the alarm…”

  “What if it’s a bloody prank by one of those…”

  “…so we can go home early every day?”

  “Hahahahaha!”

  He inched his way into the building. He could see Maddy through the crush of people holding desperately onto the front desk so as not to get swept away with the crowd, waiting for him to catch up. The secretary was on six phones simultaneously, hanging up and then picking up another; it a
lmost looked as though he had six arms. Maxwell frowned.

  He wiggled his way around the secretary’s desk. The man didn’t even notice him, luckily. He pretended he was an invisible fox, slippery and sly, sneaking his way into the dark, dank den of the hibernating bear. I am a fox, I am a fox, he chanted silently in his head. A fox, a fox, a fox.

  The elevator doors slid open.

  “Excuse me,” he said to a woman exiting the elevator. “Which floor is Quin’s office on?”

  “Twenty-seven, sir,” the woman replied. “But you had better hurry and get on out of here, before the building shuts down.” She scampered off.

  “Thank you,” Maxwell replied, a little too late, as she had already vanished into the crowd, and hit the “doors close” button. After several stops, the doors opened on the twenty-seventh floor. He stepped out and looked around. It seemed pretty empty.

  “Quin’s office!” he said, and then put his hand over his mouth. Maddy wasn’t here, so it would appear that he was talking to himself if he weren’t careful.

  He strolled down the hall, pulling a map from his satchel. He had spent weeks searching the internet for a blueprint of this building, and then stumbled into a gift shop where they were selling it for only a few dollars. Of course, it was a relatively unhelpful map, but it did have one really useful piece of information on it: the number of Quin’s office.

  It appeared to be quite simple. First, he had to turn left out of the elevator, and then make a right at the end of the hallway. He grinned. Easy as pie. He knew this building was designed for and by the creative mind, so it didn’t surprise him to see large paintings lining the hallway. They were nice paintings. He thought about destroying them, since it seemed that everyone was leaving the building and every so often it was good to prove that he was a villain, but then decided it would take too much time.

  He reached the end of the hallway and came to an abrupt halt. To his right was a gaping chasm. It spanned from where he stood to the hallway on the other side. Gazing down, all he could see were shadows, and some light from where he stood glinting off of pipes and wooden beams. A sheet or tarp fluttered far below – at least, he hoped it was a sheet, and not a ghost or a dead body or something. The chasm extended far above, with the metal beams which supported the structure of the building spanning the gap overhead. A breeze stroked his cheek lightly.

  “They should get that fixed,” Maxwell muttered with a loud sigh. Quin’s office must be out of use, because according to his map, you had to go down this hall to get there – there seemed to be no other route. “Which is odd, as this building is round.”

  “What’s odd?” said a voice from behind him. He gasped and spun around. Maddy stood there smiling cheerfully.

  “Oh, it’s you!” he exclaimed. “How did you find me?”

  “I walked up the stairs, silly! Sorry I didn’t get here sooner, but the secretary was on so many phones at once that he didn’t notice. Did you know that the secretary actually has six arms? When he sits behind that desk you don’t see them, but when there’s a crisis, man do those arms fly! What happened here?” She gasped as she noticed the gaping hole right next to them.

  “Oh, you finally noticed, did you?” Maxwell said sarcastically. “Well, I need to get across to the other side and there’s no other way.”

  “Did you bring a grappling hook?” She had a very innocent expression on her face, and for a moment, Maxwell wondered if he should have brought her at all. She could get hurt!

  “No. I did not bring a grappling hook.” Maxwell sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I should have known this would never work.”

  “I wonder how deep it is.” Maddy opened her massive and always present purse and dug around. “I don’t need this,” she said, pulling out a small rock.

  “Why do you have a rock in your purse?” Maxwell asked.

  “Oh, you know, I like to collect things.” She threw the rock into the void.

  The rock plopped at floor level.

  Maddy gasped. “The rock can fly!”

  Maxwell put out his hand to quiet her. “Hush. It’s not flying.” He walked over to the rock and picked it up, smiling a little to himself. “It’s an illusion! Come with me.” He gestured for her to follow him into the hallway.

  She stepped backwards instead. “Um, it really doesn’t seem safe.”

  “It’s safe,” Maxwell insisted. “Just put one foot out and take my hand. Close your eyes if you want.”

  She closed her eyes and put one foot out. It hit the ground.

  “Just a few more steps,” Maxwell said.

  She put her other foot out and waved it around in the air.

  “You’re about eight inches too high, there,” Maxwell rolled his eyes.

  Six steps later, she opened her eyes… and gasped. “I don’t think I can do it! Maxwell... it’s so real!”

  “Maddy. You’re fine. Take a deep breath.” Maxwell pulled her to the other side of the LED hallway until she was standing on the other side.

  He smiled at Maddy and then turned to look down the hallway. There were only a couple of doors down here and one of them had to be Quin’s office. Now came the tricky part of the mission.

  “It’s room 2701,” he told Maddy. The number was carved into a plaque on the wall, three doors down from the hallway. He pushed open the door. It was dark. He pushed it open further. A light came on. There was no one inside. He turned and gestured for Maddy to follow him.

  The office was basically empty except for a few pieces of furniture, six books, and a phone next to a pile of paperwork on the desk.

  “So what are we doing in here?” Maddy asked.

  “We’re leaving a trap for Quin.”

  “A trap?”

  “Yes, you see,” Maxwell began to explain, “my biggest fear is that we will get caught by Quin. But if we leave a trap for him, then he will get caught here and not be able to come after us.”

  “That makes a lot of sense,” Maddy agreed.

  “And, while we’re in here, we can check to make sure John is out of his office.” He picked up a small sticky note which read “John.” Then, he picked up the phone and dialed. No one answered. The answering machine picked up.

  “Hello, you have reached me, John! Actually, you haven’t reached me, because I’m not here. This is just a recording. Shame on you if you didn’t know that already. Leave a message! Or you could stop by my office, room 883, but you should probably wait until later, because, as I said, I’m not here. Cheers!”

  Maxwell hung up. “Step one accomplished!” He fished around in his bag and pulled out a magazine and a bottle of Extraordinary Adhesive. The magazine was titled The Art of Pruning.

  “Hey, I brought you that!” Maddy observed.

  “Yes.” Maxwell set the magazine in the center of Quin’s desk.

  “What’s it for?” Maddy asked.

  “Well, when he sees this, he’ll want to sit down and look at it.”

  Maddy frowned.

  Maxwell took the tube of Extraordinary Adhesive and began to spread it all over the seat of Quin’s chair.

  An expression of pleased surprise and understanding crossed Maddy’s face. “I see,” she said. “So he will sit down to look at the magazine, and then he will get stuck to the chair and not be able to chase us! That is very clever of you, Maxwell.”

  Maxwell grinned, feeling very pleased with himself.

  “So what’s next, then?” Maddy asked.

  “Crossing the void and then going to John’s office... to get the... you know what.” Then Maxwell laughed. He had practiced the laugh an awfully lot, but it never seemed to come out right. It was a villainous laugh, yes, right up until the end, when it sort of… broke.

  “That was good!” Maddy encouraged him. “You’re getting really close!”

  Then the villain and his companion took their leave of Quin’s office, traversed the chasm, and made their way towards their goal.

  PART 3

  Hazel was confused.
She had been surrounded by trees, with a strange man... but now she appeared to be just waking up, and if her nervous system was still in working condition, it seemed to be telling her that her arms were tied tightly together and her feet were bound. In addition, it would appear that either someone had turned out the lights, or she had gone blind.

  She blinked a few times. It was pitch black.

  “Hello?” she said.

  There was a blaze of light in front of her, and a dark silhouette appeared at the center.

  “You have been chosen,” the figure said.

  “Chosen for what?” she asked.

  “Chosen to fulfill your destiny.” The voice was odd. It was loud, but strangely robotic-sounding.

  “Can you untie me?” Hazel asked.

  “You must wait in silence until the time is right.”

  The light suddenly vanished. Hazel blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots from her eyes.

  “The time is right for what?” she asked.

  No one answered.

  She wriggled around trying to loosen her bonds. It was no use; they were secure. So she settled back and tried to relax as the tiniest bit of headache began to bleed into her consciousness.

  A little tear leaked from her eye, but she blinked it away. She felt strange. Only a little while ago she had been missing her dad, traveling the world, and selling useless trinkets to spend-happy tourists. Now she was on a spaceship filled with sleeping people and robot monkeys, being held captive by said monkeys, and with no idea how to get out of the predicament.

  Then she smiled as she realized the little monkey robot was still around her neck – the one that had been translating for her all along.

  “What’s your name, little monkey?” Hazel asked.

  The monkey didn’t reply. She rubbed her face against its fur. “I hope you’re on my side,” she whispered, and then fell silent.

  “Hazel?” Pilgrim’s voice sounded in the darkness a few minutes later. “Hello?”

  “I’m here,” she said softly. The robot monkey repeated her words. “But I don’t know where we are.”