Not wanting to attract attention, Nora and I were stretched out flat on the floor so we could peer down at Rose and August, two levels below.
We watched in shock as August tossed that white-suited robot over the railing to his sad fate in the dark waters far below. At that moment, the severity of our situation returned to me. Though I held no personal stake in that mechanized man, I nervously kept my eyes trained on the slow churning surface of the sinister pool, hoping the robot might bob to the surface and swim to safety.
I realized that Nora, pressed close beside me, was holding her breath, and then I noticed I was as well.
“Breathe,” I whispered to her. Then I muttered, “Poor devil.”
###
When the two of us had arrived—perhaps materialized would be more apt—I am embarrassed to admit that my first thoughts were not of Rose.
My focus had been the Plan.
If there was any place I could find the answers that would allow me to give those reincorporated people a real choice in their future (other than two grim unknowns), it would be here. Wherever here was.
I needed to explore. Investigate. And be quick about it. Probably sneaky as all get out. I doubted I’d have much time.
But I couldn’t let my thoughts roam untethered for long, because I had not arrived in this realm beyond Door Number One alone.
We were still in a tight clutch—Nora and I—not because of fear, but from our giddy pose we had struck for the camera before we transitioned into the featureless and weightless void.
How long had we been in that nothingness between worlds?
Minutes? Decades?
Nora was a lively one. Quick and observant. Head-strong, yes. But what can I say? I too shared those virtuous traits. However, at times prudence was the higher virtue.
So, when we popped into existence within a green-lit glass tube, I felt a need to restrain Nora as she leaped out.
She spun around, looking perplexed at my hand holding onto her wrist.
“But we’re on a rescue mission,” she had said with dismay.
She was right, of course. We were here to rescue Rose from that maniac!
“Assess, my dear,” I told her. “We’re in a new world, and don’t know the rules.”
She smiled at me, flicking her eyes down to my hand.
“You can let go of me. I won’t run away.”
We both stood a moment, processing the fact that we were not only still alive, but a long way from La Vida Tower. And then, with care and deliberation, we looked around, doing our best to make sense of this place.
Slowly we both stepped away from the tube and stood at a waist-high railing looking out into a gigantic space. And what a space. It had all the dimly lit industrial minimalism of a Marriott hotel atrium as designed by a fourteen-year-old devote of 1980s science fiction movies. Dozens of levels of balustraded walkways providing access, not to hotel rooms, but hundreds of human-sized glass tubes into which people, such as Nora and I, might land after traveling through the ether of time and/or space. Most of the light came from glowing green orbs the size of potted ferns. Hundreds of these globes sat atop metal pillars distributed along the railings.
High above us, at the top of the huge central shaft, was a flat black ceiling with a hint of glittery reflections, as if ground mica had been glued up there. In the center was an enormous globe, half its hemisphere exposed, glowing, also, with that eerie green light. It throbbed and shimmered. And below, all the way at the bottom of the cavernous space, was water, sluggish and rolling. I think it was water. It could have been molasses for all I could tell. I wondered if the place had been constructed over a river. Maybe a river of molasses. If that were the case—and I’m not suggesting it was—than the food court most likely would be placed at the lowest level.
I almost expected tinny piano music issuing from circular speakers in the ceilings. But all was quiet. Well, a sort of soft buzz did come from all around. Probably those weird light fixtures.
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The place was exotic and ordinary at the same time. But, I made it! Alive and in one piece. Here, beyond the portal. Beyond Door Number One. And what I had said to Nora couldn’t be more honest. I did not know the rules. I realized, in fact, I knew nothing. Even after years of sending contestants on this very journey, I had acquired no more than vague speculations.
Notes! I should be taking notes. But no paper. I didn’t even have a pen.
All of those observations which I would have preferred to leisurely gather and consider, had to be placed on hold when Nora alerted me to the presence of others.
“There they are,” she hissed. Now it was her time to grab my wrist.
Because Rose was still with August, we, Nora and I, with not a word exchanged between us, dropped down, out of sight.
From our hiding place on the floor, we saw that they were standing with two men in white coveralls not far below us, on the opposite side of the shaft.
“Looks like we’re the only ones in the whole place,” I said to Nora in a low tone. “The two of us, and the four of them. Seems strange. I mean, if these tubes are for transportation, they’re sure not getting much use. There are thousands of them.”
“1692,” Nora said.
“What?”
“You overestimated. 47 levels, 36 tubes per level. 1692, in total.” She looked up, then down. “That’s still a lot. Well, seems like a lot to me.” Then she turned her gaze back to the little group below.
“I wish we could hear them,” I said. The two men in white seemed so officious, probably they were employed to process the arriving contestants who were sent through Door Number One. White, like angels? Were similar men, though dressed in red devil suits, waiting in some other similar place for those assigned to Door Number Two?
If this was supposed to represent heaven, I’d like to have a chat with the design team. Theatrics should take a higher priority. White jumpsuits? Oh, please! We were holding up our side—back in San Antonio, running a smooth, professional show. But this? Not impressed. It had the Network all over it. Shoddy half-assery.
“Whoa!” Nora said. She sucked in her breath.
There had been a green flash down below us coming from the tube right beside Rose. New arrivals! It was Helen and Darlene! Oh, if only I could see what was going on back in the studio. I sure hoped Morris turned on the video recorder. It must be exquisite chaos—the best kind!
But wait, I couldn’t imagine anyone on crew who would have sent the women through Door Number One. That’d just be bad TV. They would have been sent through Door Number Two. Because if Door Number One and Door Number Two both led to the same place, that would make no sense at all. That was worse than a rigged game. That would be…pointless.
“They’re busted, now,” Nora said.
“What?”
“Those two glass things,” she said, pointing down. “They’re broken.”
She was observant. The tube that brought Helen and Darlene was smoking. A bit. And the tube next to it, too. It was probably the one Rose and that killer used. Also, those two devices looked different. Then I realized that every tube in the whole place had a subtle green glow to them. I hadn’t noticed because it was so faint. But when they went dark, as had those two below, they stood out.
Nora taped my shoulder and pointed behind us to the tube which we had arrived in. It was dark as well.
Maybe the chaos back in the studio was less exquisite and more disastrous. I wondered if that might impact our chance of returning.
Then there was another flash. Green again, but very vibrant and powerful. One of the men in white had just zapped Helen and Darlene.
“Oh, no,” Nora gasped.
The women weren’t women anymore. They looked like Cleo, all tentacles and floppy bulges. They twitched there on the floor, helpless. One of the men grabbed up both the creatures and loaded them into a rolling cart. And then, he took them away.
Lord, was that what happened to all of our “lucky” contestants?
But wait, the remaining man in white was aiming his ray gun at August.
When August grabbed one of those rolling carts and slammed it against that guy in the white jumpsuit, all I could think of was good job! The man in white collapsed.
“Sparks,” said Nora. “Sparks are coming out of that man’s head.”
“A robot,” I said. “Those sort of sparks don’t come out a human. How interesting.”
“Oh, he’s okay. He’s standing up. Wow! I love robots!” Nora laughed quietly. “Well, I’ve never met one, but what’s not to love?”
“You think those two women would be so forgiving?”
“Mr. Moreno, we don’t know the full story. Remember, we’re assessing.”
“Please, call me Sy.” And then we saw August chuck that robot over the edge. When it landed in the water far below, it didn’t splash so much as ooze out of sight. I was beginning to lean towards molasses. “Now, that’s how you handle a robot.” I was starting to warm toward our cold-blooded killer.
I was still watching, wondering if it might eventually come up for air, when Nora poked me.
“They’re on the move,” she hissed.
Indeed they were. Momentarily unencumbered by any robot threat, August and Rose began heading off.
We crept away from the edge before standing. We walked along the mezzanine, keeping close to the glass tubes lining the wall.
“We want to avoid being noticed by our friend, the murderer,” I whispered to Nora. “But, also, there’s that other robot skulking around.”
No sooner had I spoken the word, than there he was, moving our way, pushing his rolling cart with its unsavory contents. I grabbed Nora and pulled her into an alcove.
He—and I suppose a robot could be a he—hadn’t seen us. I was pretty sure of that. But he’d find us soon enough.
“Sy!” Nora hissed in my ear. Ah, finally, no more of that Mr. Moreno.
“What’s up?” I asked, shifting my gaze to where she was pointing.
“It’s an elevator,” she told me.
Well, it did appear to be some sort of sliding metal door, but that didn’t mean...I almost laughed at my own stupidity. Nora was an elevator expert!
Wait! What was that irritating sound? It flashed to mind that it must be a squeaky wheel of the robot’s wheelbarrow as it came closer. So, when Nora held her finger questioningly over the elevator call button, I nodded assertively.