The receptionist led them down the hallway, her legs long and confident, her heels contacting the floor in a countdown. The hall began to transition into darkness from the bright colors of the clean, abstract vibrance of the waiting room. Feet fell onto the darkening floor as colors shifted into dark hues. The idea of a rabbit hole came to mind for most who walked that hall, an intentional effect to mentally prepare them to leave a world of hard lines as they swirled and bent in Cassandra's orbit.
The hall curved, and as it curved, the darkness of the wall and floor grew so that when you struggled to see the end, dim lights along the floor rolled off in complete darkness. Their eyes adjusted gradually as wood grains slowly appeared on the walls around them, a sign of true wealth. Not as liquid as the controllable and tightly regulated currency, real wood on just one of these walls was far more valuable than gold explorers found in the entire ancient city of Tenochtitlan. Gold was rare then, but this hallway to an office was lined with the rarest of materials, hardwood. Augmented synthetics were an option to emulate it, but no one could justify hundreds of years of natural growth. A smell of Jasmine surrounded them, modified by the wood as it stretched and transformed into something new, something hearty as if coming across it fresh during a walk through a forest.
As their eyes adjusted, two giant doors rose before them. The ceilings had been stretching ever higher, now sixty feet up. At a distance of thirty yards and without them noticing, the hallway became two times the height of the waiting room that disappeared behind them. The hall also narrowed significantly, from a width of thirty feet at the start, down to ten feet. Giant Redwood doors met in the middle and loomed high above. The mind-bending effect was described by the architect as a portal through space. Cassandra's concept was meticulously specified to transform people walking through it. A portal from an outside world into her internal realm rose majestically before them, opulent and foreboding, giant doors weighing two tons each. The doors were taken a century earlier from the last of the Redwoods and machined to perfection. Rings that witnessed eons of rulers through the protection of their bark were now forced to watch naked, forced to pay homage to a new owner. In the darkness, the lighter tones of the redwood glowed softly in the darkness of the mahogany surrounding them.
The receptionist did not slow, her consistent pace marking out the space. The sound of each step echoed from farther behind. The sound of each step also rose as if their feet were beginning to float. Higher and higher, from leg to back to head, the sound moved from below where they belonged. It gave a disorienting sensation of falling and being pushed forward at the same time. The space was studied by audio engineers and academics, who marveled at its acoustic properties. It was modeled by the latest acoustic analyzers, revealing it as a masterpiece rivaling aspects of ancient engineering. The design was inspired by the acoustics of stone henge, where speech was amplified within the stone ring but was inaudible ten yards outside. Unlike that design, their sounds were sucked back overhead bouncing off the giant doors. A mind-warping effect where the body became disoriented as they approached the rising doorway. Receptionists were trained to walk the hallway to maximize the effect, a slow pace practiced until perfected. The rigorous precision led many applicants to quit. Numerous candidates met the qualifications, but the demanding work environment and pay-for-performance model limited their tenure. Milliseconds of aberration meant the difference between a bonus or penalty. The maximum effect was dependent on the pace. It was meticulously controlled and the receptionist's primary responsibility.
The giant doors opened slowly as they approached. At first, it was the thinest sliver of light from floor to ceiling illuminating only the internal edges of the seam, drawing the eyes upward as the ceiling finally became visible. The red tones of the Redwood now took over the color of the entire hallway, bathing the darkness in blood-red. With each measured step the doors opened further, transforming the hallway into the golden yellows of the most beautiful sunrise. For several moments, the grandeur of the hallway's curved shape and majesty were fully unveiled. Mesmerizing shapes of light and dark from the trees' complex history were presented in a honeyed glow. Then, as quickly as they could fully appreciate the space, the masterpiece was hidden again as a blinding light flooded through the doors of Cassandra's office. Recently adjusted to complete darkness, their eyes now squinted in raw sunlight.
Their eyes slowly adapted, the harsh light yielding to a warm glow that filtered through narrowed pupils. Several people were working in areas within the large space. Wood panels spread along the walls from narrow strips near the entrance into ever wider panels as they wrapped around the egg-shaped room. At the far end beyond Cassandra's desk, Veridian Center sprang into view from seventeen stories up. The oversized window was framed on each side by floor-to-ceiling Redwood panels matching the width and height of the doors they just entered. If the entryway was designed to be a portal into Cassandra's world, the view framed by the panels was a door to her city. Like the waiting room, where eyes were pulled toward the receptionist, all eyes were now pulled toward the city. There, in front, Cassandra stood. But they never paused as they continued to follow the receptionist on her measured tour. Now they weaved through workspaces occupied with people engrossed in their profession. Cassandra walked gracefully to the side of her giant wooden desk, a dominant and contemporary feature within the space, harnessing woodcraft and steel in ways that demonstrated the new enshrining the old and protecting it.
Cassandra gestured toward a sitting area as she approached it at the same pace as the receptionist, a practiced choreography of two beautiful women. The destination was large enough to sit ten. Both the receptionist and Cassandra stopped at far sides of the space, the receptionist turning to face them for the first time. Her palm extended inviting the guests to comfort. The three saw her face up close for the first time. Taller than Marcus by several inches, she wore a kind expression of both elegance and disinterest. And yet, somehow her eyes were filled with vulnerability, wide and available behind a placid expression. Each guest nodded, almost bowing in gratitude. Her expression did not change. Then, she turned and walked back to the waiting room, the cadence of her heels which had become so familiar and dominant in their approach, rose and vanished again within a few steps.
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Each was drawn toward Cassandra. Sarah approached first, her eyes captured since entering the room. Unable to look away as her associates soaked up the expansive room and view, Sarah was searching. She smiled affectionately, but there was no response in expression or gesture. Finally, she managed, "Cassandra." Her voice filled with deep respect, her head bowing slightly. Not even the slightest sign of acknowledgment was evoked. Cassandra looked past her. Once an intimate friend and mentor, now absent. Stabbed through the heart by last night's deceit, Sarah felt the full weight of Cassandra's disapproval without a word or look passing between them. She betrayed her friend, ex-lover, philanthropist, and powerful city leader. Her intention to save a thousand lives now jeopardized tens of thousands. Sarah felt emotions rising through her gut and solar plexes past her heart. The rose to surround her. Her guilt traveled on waves of shame she had been fighting to manage for days. She had blamed the Abacus and the destruction on Kai even though she shared responsibility. Now as devastation advanced, her responsibility to her city gripped tight, pulling her down as she sat. Now she looked up at Cassandra, hoping. But she watched Kai, eyes softening, lips inviting him towards her with a smile. *She knows,* Sarah thought about her drugging Cassandra last night, *of course she knows.*
"Of course I do." Cassandra looked directly at Sarah somehow predicting Sarah's thoughts, reading her mind, or just perfect coincidence. She paused, staring through her for several moments and shifting to Marcus, "... want to understand the details of the problems we are seeing." Then returning to Kai, "but first, I want to hear how my dear friend Kai is doing after so many years."
Sarah could read Cassandra, but her intellect frightened her. Her words readily carved spaces between the team, isolating each of them. She motioned for Kai to sit on the other side of her, the implication speaking volumes. Marcus sat beside Sarah, a stranger just as invisible as herself. The depth of the couch stretched far beyond normal seating. It provided options for seating, but none were comfortable. Either you sat on the edge positioned leaning forward in a posture of continuous engagement, or further back in which case you would have to pull in your legs or dangle your feet like a child. The third option of leaning back would leave you lying down and vulnerable. Marcus, sat on the edge, like Sarah. The comfort was cloud-like and supportive, the grade of the couch rivaling anything they had sat on in months. Kai sat finally, making eye contact with Cassandra, smiling warmly as he bathed in her attention. He cleared his throat as he settled in. He was genuinely grateful she remembered their long acquaintance and addressed him as a dear friend, a position that also felt awkward. The chair supported him fully, his body held like a glove, posture upright, arms gravitating to the rest. His view overlooked the entire room, slightly elevated over Sarah and Marcus, despite being shorter than both. Two people working looked up noticing him and nodded before returning to work when he nodded back. He imagined what it must be like to be Cassandra, now so wealthy and powerful. Sarah watched him carefully wishing she had had more time to prepare him. He appeared to enjoy her power seat far too much. *Sit up Kai,* Sarah thought demandingly. It was too late.
Cassandra remained standing, watching him intently. Her only motion was her hand resting on the back of his chair. She stood slightly behind the chair so that as he looked out admiring her space, she did too. Sarah and Marcus wondered if Kai would ever reply, eager to understand more about a relationship spanning 'so many years'.
Sarah's trepidation grew, but she remained stoic, a silent observer of Cassandra's capricious favor. Like a tree in the path of a brewing hurricane, she had seen others outside of Cassandra's grace. The weight bore down on her. People's lives were held in the balance. She felt dirty and stuck as her mind retraced her decisions: coming here today, stealing from Cassandra last night, the destruction of the TruthGate while recovering funds from Meridian, and her decision to ever follow Kai. Like a fly ensnared in a Venus trap, her mind was caught in reflection, reliving their first meeting a decade ago. He led the archeological expedition to retrieve the Abacus at the center of the destruction. She surprised herself to recall it now, in this room, at this time with Cassandra on her right facing the monster. Kai was to blame for all of this devastation.
She became lost in the memory, swept away by a powerful undertow. She nearly died when they first uncovered the Abacus ten years ago. A Stylus, a type of diving rod that helped them locate the device deep under the city, created a feedback loop as it got closer, glowing brighter until the Abacus exploded in a shockwave killing two others and severely injuring Sarah. Until now, Kai's support was a beacon for her. Now, she questioned him in a new light, Was his mentorship due to his guilt and incompetence then? . A manipulator instead of a mentor. She dedicated herself to him due to his care during her recovery, his sponsorship of her doctorate, and her ascension to a premiere citizen. She gave him credit for her hard work. Even his support in nominating her to the underground council, felt like manipulation as he took advantage of her dedication. It seemed to her that the only good thing he ever gave her was an introduction to Cassandra. But he never mentioned a deer friendship. Did they have a relationship? How could she never have suspected? Sarah's mind entered a deepening darkness. She wished she had turned back before those huge doors opened, turned away from Kai's special force two weeks ago, and pushed him away ten years ago. *There must be a better way,* she thought to herself, focusing on her training and drawing from her inner strength, shaken but fighting back to the surface.
"There always is," again Cassandra looked directly at Sarah. Sarah's heart jumped as she froze. Twice now Cassandra appeared to speak directly to her innermost thoughts. Her heart pounded rapidly as she froze like a rabbit mere feet from the fox, sitting in its den either as a friend or as dinner. Although she didn't know which, she managed a heartfelt smile toward her ex-lover, leaving her feeling totally exposed and vulnerable. But Cassandra looked back at Kai without acknowledging. She continued her statement as she sat beside him, continuing with an upbeat tone, "a way forward, even in the darkest times."
Kai suddenly felt uneasy but couldn't tell why.