Smoke billowed in from every corner. The ground levitated in a white haze. I slammed a shot glass on the table. In quick succession, another glass hit the glossy wood. My elbows gave out as my copilot swatted me across the back, calling to the bartender to line up another. His face shifted in and out of focus. I told him I needed to leave, but he reeled me back in when I tried to turn away.
Behind us, the room pulsed like an incoming tide to the beat of some terrible song I didn’t recognize. Dancing on the outskirts of the crowd, a young woman dressed like a familiar character I couldn’t remember caught my attention - and I hers. Her purple jumpsuit formed a trail in my vision as my wingman spun me around and gave a halfhearted drunken pep talk.
Full of renewed vigor, I stumbled over. My words fell out, dribbling onto the floor as I searched for the right thing to say. Her delicate smile took pity on me, and she introduced herself as Claire.
A low rumbling shook the air as I opened my eyes. A once uniform patch of panels covering the wall separated to create a tall, arched doorway. The room was blurry, obscured by the remnants of lingering sleep.
Through its dark entrance emerged a short, slender figure garbed in a deep blue tunic, fastened down the middle by a series of dull silver buttons. As the figure approached, hands clasped in front, I saw it was a man. Although small in stature, he stood with his chin held high as if the world was at his disposal. For all I knew at the time, maybe it was.
The man stopped just short of where I sat, never taking his eyes off an invisible target a thousand yards ahead of him.
“Where am I? What did you do to me?” My voice sounded more frantic than I intended, but the man took little notice, if any at all.
“The General Secretary has requested you.”
“Who? Why am I here?” I persisted.
“I do not know. They didn’t mention their intentions,” the man responded, looking gently down at me.
It’s good to see there’s some humanity behind those eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me—”
“That decision is not for you to make. It was made for you. In your best interest, of course. Now, if you’ll follow me. I have a reputation of being punctual, and I don’t intend to lose it.”
“No, I’m not going. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
The man raised his chin, his eyes fixated on another object too distant to see. “Alright, pleasantries first. My name is Julius. What is yours?”
“Jack,” I replied, coming to my feet.
“Jack… Jack, for John, I take it? Named after John the Baptiste.”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Fascinating. That name hasn’t been used in nearly two centuries.”
“No? It’s a pretty common name. One of the most common if I’m not mistaken.”
“Is that right? A different time, then.”
“Is it? I still don’t fully understand what’s going on.”
“I will leave it to the General Secretary to fill in what he deems necessary. Now, we’ve established names. If you would, please follow me,” Julius said, turning his torso to reveal the opening behind him.
“I’m not sure—”
“You don’t need to be sure, Master Jack. And please, for both our sakes, don’t mistake pleasantries for choice. Now, if you would so kindly,” Julius said, extending his arm toward the door.
With little choice, I stepped through the opening in the wall into a long corridor, taking a moment to watch the panels effortlessly glide back into place once through. The hall stretched as far as I could see. It never broke or turned; it just shrank until a pinpoint of indiscernible light boxed out the paneled walls. There was light, but not from any direct source. Instead, each tile emanated its own glow, flooding the corridor in a soft, unyielding light.
We walked. It was hard to tell how long. The muddled gray flattened my vision. Panel after panel passed as I grew more disoriented. Julius abruptly stopped. The corridor was so disorienting I nearly walked through him, having to catch myself angling toward his little frame.
The wall opened, just like before, exposing another matte-filled room with a row of seats facing each other. Without a word, my escort stepped in and took the seat nearest the opening. Like the walls, the chairs blended into the same flat color, only visible by the occasional corner drawing contrast against its surroundings. I sat opposite Julius, but he insisted I sit next to him. OK, why? I obeyed. I had little choice but to. No sooner than I was settled, a partitioning wall rose through the middle of the room, dividing it in two. I looked over to find Julius bracing with both hands, clutching the edges of his seat.
“This is my least favorite part,” he said, nodding toward my folded arms.
Before I could respond, I was hurtled to the left, sending my shoulder into Julius’s chest. I felt terrible for the guy. We’d just met, and I was sure I’d caved in his sternum. The acceleration was brief, releasing me from its grip after a few seconds.
“I’m sorry I didn’t know,” I said, righting myself on the bench.
“Quite alright. I should’ve warned you,” Julius replied, straightening his tunic and adjusting the dull buttons until they were again neatly aligned.
“What is this? Where are you taking me?” The last question was most pertinent but lower on my mind. The acceleration I had felt was astonishing. Never before had I pulled so many Gs so rapidly.
“It’s a transportation shuttle, as indicated by the seats.”
“Right… and—”
“You may want to brace yourself this time.”
Mimicking Julius’s stance, I latched onto the seat. The shuttle slowed at the same abrupt pace it accelerated. Luckily, I was ready this time, catching myself before being thrown to the opposite side of the room.
Why isn’t there a seat belt?
We stopped, and the door opened once more into an identical hall as the last. Only this time, the tiles weren’t the same Grey but mixed with a brilliant shade of blue. To the left, the corridor extended endlessly until the walls closed in on themselves. To my right, however, the hall came to a dead end, abruptly stopping at a golden-grey wall. Julius prompted me to follow, stopping briefly to allow the panels to recede, exposing a great room ringed with windows, looking out over an expansive field of towers penetrating the clouds below. Each tower appeared more ornate than the next, boasting beautifully crafted masonry designs. Delicately carved stone swirled and swooped from the spires, emblazoned by the piercing sun. Gargoyles and other mythical creatures were carved into their sides. Each structure was domed in its own unique way, all sporting a golden eagle perched above the clouds. Tower after tower rose out to the horizon.
“Where are we?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off the expansive tower garden.
“We’re in the capital district.”
“Washington?”
“No. In your time, this peninsula of land was New York.”
“Why was the capital moved to New York?”
“National governments were no longer needed. Washington, DC, was a relic. A reminder of a time of violence and suffering in the world. The new United Nations capital was moved to New York when the world’s governments were dissolved. And in time… well, you see.”
The scene was far different from the New York I remembered. Sure, there were towering buildings, but nothing of this scale. The spires appeared to stretch from the mainland to Connecticut and beyond.
“These are all government buildings?”
Julius opened his mouth to speak, but another voice clapped behind us before he could. “Only this one. The rest house its ministers. Grand cathedrals of dynastic houses, all praying at the altar of bureaucracy.”
Caught off guard, I turned and faced the hall we had just entered. Through its breach strutted a young man. He was taller than Julius but still shorter than average. The tunic he wore was of the same fashion. However, he sported crimson and gold rather than Julius’s blue and silver. I nudged Julius with my elbow, but he never took his eyes off the approaching young man.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Master Jack, I take it. I’m Claudius.” His voice filled the room, echoing off the glass. “It is truly a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”
Julius lowered his torso and dropped his head when Claudius was about ten paces away. Out of instinct, I also started to lower but caught myself before a full bow. That was dumb of me. Who is this guy?
“No need to bow, Master Jack. You aren’t familiar with our customs, and I won’t hold that against you… yet.” The young man smirked, his hands still clasped as if they held the world.
“Are you the UN general—”
Julius nudged an elbow into my ribs. He still held his low bow, twisting his neck to peer up.
“That’s not necessary, Julius. After all, Jack here is our guest of honor.” Claudius grinned down at the shriveled man before continuing. “You’ve traveled all this way. How interesting a turn of fate would bring you here.”
“Fate, sire, is—” Julius began but was cut off.
“That will be all Julius. Leave us.”
My escort bowed deeper, stepping slowly away to the door, never showing his back until he’d left the room.
“Fate?” I asked.
“Julius is a stickler for the rules. An essential piece of our directorate. Necessary to keep order. But here, we have a more refined way of viewing these things.”
“Is the concept of fate unrefined?”
“It can be. But only if viewed as anything other than a turn of phrase. As long as it doesn’t carry the connotation of an omnipotent being.”
“You’re an atheist,” I remarked, turning to look back toward the cityscape.
Claudius let out a shrill laugh. “We don’t have a classification for the absence of organized religion. But yes, if you had to label it, we’d be considered atheists.”
“That would explain Julius’s comment earlier about my name.”
“Right again, Master Jack. We no longer name our children after apostles and prophets who lionized the human control mechanism you knew as religion.”
“Hmm, sounds like you could make the same case for government.”
“Very clever, Jack. I won’t hold that against you… yet,” Claudius replied with a wink.
I could tell I’d hit a nerve. Something deep within the young man burned at the comment. The subtle facial twitches surrounding the wink gave him away, like a poker player’s tell.
“I don’t want to come off as rude, Claudius. But how did I get here? Why am I here?” I said. I had made contact, but there wasn’t a guide or playbook for what came next.
Claudius smiled and turned to the outward-facing windows, catching stray glints of sunlight off the surrounding towers in his glistening hair. Hues of red and orange danced across his porcelain skin. He bathed in its light before turning back to answer. But before he could, a door opened on the other side of the gilded room. Out stepped a tall, commanding man clad in a pristine white tunic fastened by deep onyx buttons. Claudius’s expression shifted. The once exuberant smile he wore faded, replaced with humble eyes looking past his lowered chin.
“Father,” Claudius stated in a low tone as he bowed before the approaching figure.
“I hope you’re not filling our guest’s ears with all your plots and schemes, Claudius.”
“No, father. I was just entertaining our guest until you arrived.”
I’m right here.
“Before you speak, I know who you are.”
“It would seem this introduction is one-sided, then,” I replied
“Careful, Jack. I may have let your innsolence pass, but–”
“That’s enough, Claudius. Our guest doesn’t know the customs, and in his time, it would’ve been rude of me not to introduce myself. I am Augustus, General Secretary of the United Nations. The sole representative and emissary of Earth. Although, until now, Earth did not need an emissary.”
“I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend. I’m having trouble piecing everything together. To be honest, I’m not sure if I’m still in that pod, dreaming. Or, if I’m actually standing high above New York four hundred years in the future.”
Augustus listened intently, chewing on every word. He stood silently for a moment before responding, never taking his eyes off mine.
“Why are you here?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you could help with that answer.”
“The Directorate Navy vessel that intercepted your station briefed me on what they found. The journal. The… primitive digital system you conversed with. You received a signal, as you described it.”
“Yes. I, along with the rest of my crew, was tasked with locating the origin of the signal.”
“What did you find?”
“This,” I said, gesturing about the room. “The trajectory led us here.”
“Us? From the logs, it appears one of your crew members killed the rest. Everyone except you.”
“Richardson, she—”
“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? I’m sure there will be plenty of time to speak.” Augustus momentarily broke his gaze, his eyes intent but his mind elsewhere. “I’m afraid I must attend to some matters before dinner. Claudius, the undersecretaries are gathering this evening. Please show our guest to his room and ensure he has everything he needs. He’ll be tonight’s guest of honor.”
Claudius gave a low bow. Before I could speak, the man turned and left the room. As soon as the door panels connected, the young man tugged at my shirt sleeve, pointing toward another door. It led to a corridor, but the hall was arched in place of the gray matte tiles, flanked by golden columns embroidered with ornate flowers whimsically dancing up to a vaulted ceiling. Crystal light fixtures draped over oil paintings and statues filled the blank spaces between arches. To my left stood an endless series of gold-laced oak doors. I stopped and admired until Claudius spurred me on with his palm in the center of my back.
“Marvelous, isn’t it? A thousand floors, all modeled after the Winter Palace. A true testament to the human will. This house will stand for thousands of years.”
“I’m sure the Romanov’s thought the same.”
“Who?”
“Not important.”
We continued to walk until Claudius pulled at the back of my arm, instructing me to pause. He reached out and placed his hand on a curved gold handle on the door nearest us. An electronic latch gave way, sliding the door to the left, exposing a grand room. A bed stood in its center with four eloquently carved wooden posts at all four ends, holding up silver and blue fabric bundles. In the corner sat an elongated velvet upholstered couch in front of a fireplace that reached halfway up the wall. The vaulted ceiling aesthetic persisted into the room. Intricate oil painting murals of omnipotent men overseeing great crowds of laborers decorated the plaster.
“I know what you’re thinking. I don’t want to fall asleep looking at that,” Claudius chuckled, pointing upward.
“It is a bit intense.”
“That’s why I had the canopy put over the bed. You wouldn’t believe the number of sign-offs I needed. You’d think I was zoning a new settlement. But, the bureaucracy is an unstoppable machine.”
I smiled in response and returned to surveying the room. It had been years since I slept in a real bed. Granted, for most of those years, I was unconscious. Claudius stepped past me and walked to the fireplace.
With his hands held behind his back, he said, “It’s a great honor to be invited to dine with the undersecretaries. And as a guest of honor, no less. You’ll want to bathe before, I’m sure. Through that door there, you’ll find everything you need. We fitted you for proper attire as well.”
I hadn’t changed my clothes since I awoke at the station. They were still encrusted with the residue of that brackish fluid I nearly drowned in. I was blind to the smell, but I figured I was ripe, given Claudius’s overpowering aroma. I thanked the young man and stepped aside for him to leave. Claudius raised his chin and went back to surveying the fireplace.
Take the hint. Leave.
“A new batch of girls arrived from the lower city this morning, bathed and eager. Would you like me to send a couple over before dinner?”
Does that mean what I think it means? Jesus, what is this place?
“Just a shower will be fine.”
Claudius lingered as though he expected me to say more. I stood in silence. “After dinner, then,” Claudius replied. After a few wraps of his knuckles on the wood mantle, he continued, “Well, I should be off. It would be a shame to let a dinner with all the undersecretaries go to waste, and I have seeds to plant.”
“Happy planting.”
Claudius cracked a smile. “You’re insolent. Maybe one day you’ll grow on me. Until then, I shall continue to treat you as a gracious host would.” His grin turned lopsided as he mumbled, “That’s the way she would want it.”
“Your hospitality is noted.” The young man glided across the patterned marble floor. Before he reached the door, I grabbed his arm to ask, “Is there anyone I can talk to who would know… who could tell me more about how I got here? How I can get back?”
Claudius glared down at my hand as though it was diseased. “You will have to find that out for yourself, Master Jack.” He yanked his sleeve free of my grasp and brushed the invisible particulate from the fabric.
He took his leave with a devious smile and slapped my back. Once out of the room, the door shut behind him, leaving me alone in that gaudy, cavernous space. A set of shades on the opposite wall drew open, revealing an expansive view of the field of towers surrounding mine. The clouds below shrouded the world, stealing the sun’s last rays of the waning day. Orange and red hues swam across the rippled tufts, basking us in their glow.
A thousand floors.
“This can’t be real. I must still be in that pod,” I said, surveying the horizon.
The building was considerably taller than any man-made structure up through the twenty-first century. Where I stood was higher than the tallest mountain on the eastern seaboard. A single spire would be an engineering marvel, but to see so many in such proximity was breathtaking. My mind drifted to the images of 1930s steel workers perched high above the city, precariously placing beams without regard for their safety.
How many men died to build just one of these?
I had to pull myself from the view to prep for dinner. So far, no one I’d spoken to was able to answer any of my questions. In fact, they only raised more. I prayed someone at the dinner might change that.
The attached bath was as elegant as the room. What I had presumed to be the shower covered more square footage than most apartments. Golden embroidered waterspouts dotted the space - gushing warm, silky fluid. There was no soap, but the water exhumed the same fragrance I detected on Claudius.
A crisp crimson tunic with onyx fasteners sat on my bed as I left the shower. I held the clothing to the dying light fighting through the cloud tops. A glimpse of movement flashed out of the corner of my eye. A young woman, no older than twenty, met my gaze. She dropped her head and dashed to the door.
“Wait,” I called after her. Like a trained pup, she stopped.
“I’m sorry,” she pleaded with a bow.
“There’s no need to apologize. You caught me off guard, is all.”
“I’m — I should go.”
“Do you work for the General Secretary?”
“I work for his house, yes.”
She noticed the tunic in my hands. Her eyes raised to mine once again. “You must be a very honored guest to receive those.”
“Am I? I suppose the colors are symbolic.”
“Yes. The crimson represents the highest order of society. While the onyx — only the General Secretary is permitted to wear onyx fasteners.”
“What do you think it means?”
The young woman shuttered, slowly lifting her hands to undo her garb.
I reached out and pleaded, “Stop. Please, you don’t need to —”
The young woman bowed and hurried out of the room, presumably before I changed my mind. Claudius, with two gorgeous escorts, stepped through the door no sooner than she disappeared.
“Awe, Jack, you scared her away. What did you do? Or, what didn’t you do?”
“Nothing. She startled me, is all. I wasn’t expecting to find someone else in here when I got out of the shower.”
“You could’ve — if you wanted to. But there will be plenty of time for that later. Believe me. Now hurry and dress.”
I looked upon the tunic draped across my hands. “I’m not going anywhere until—”
“Jack,” Claudius said, tilting his head back while keeping a grip on the two women. “Didn’t we just go over this? How else do I need to spell it out? You don’t have a choice. Now dress… before I have my brutes hold you down and do it for you.”
I expected a sarcastic grin, but his face was stoic. Part of me knew he meant it.