Page 399 of Light Leech

The elevator chimed.

Ralia led the way. I followed, trying to keep confidence in my composure.

Someone stood beyond the pillars, that red robed man who might be the final step towards pivoting the world towards destruction or freedom.

The man bowed as we approached. He eyed us, never extending a hand to shake, then pulled back his hood, revealing milk-white skin that could only be found on an and. “Are you ready?” His voice was clear, mellow, yet obviously lacking the emotional inflection of a human.

I turned to Ralia, hoping she would at least give me a second to exchange a silent agreement.

She focused on the and, never turning to me as she said, “Yes.”

He checked me, those pale blue eyes reading me and scanning deeper. I opened my mouth to say “yes” with her, but it spoke before I could.

“Please follow.”

We walked down the hall a few steps before a summoned panel floated towards us. This one was a few feet larger than the one we had taken.

The and watched us step up behind it. Once we found our balance, the and nodded and the panel obeyed its silent command.

We passed through various rooms and common areas, some with pillars and fountains, others with nothing more than a monochromatic tapestry of the Hadrian Palace as if it were a blueprint rendering. Some of the people we passed noticed us, but most kept to themselves and spoke to one another in calm, quiet voices which increased the pressure of uneasy solemnity that filled the hotel like dense mist.

We reached an elevator, this one much wider than the one we had used. We entered and the and pressed the button for floor negative fourty. The floors counted backwards, providing no access to the upper residential levels, but descending from negative one to negative fifty.

Our descent began and my stomach followed. I felt an odd reassurance in seeing that the hotel’s absurdity could be explained by this new enigma. A new puzzle did little to explain the other, but at least I could feel somewhat justified in giving up my hope of understating everything that was happening.

Our silent ride ended and the doors opened with a quiet, synthetic chime. The decor was similar to the sterile white of the hotel above, but there were more light lines and people to give it life.

That still did little to comfort me.

Those we passed left lingering gazes on us. I couldn’t blame them. I wore my dark work jumpsuit and Ralia wore spandex. Not everyone down here was in robes, though many still had them over their business attire. High collared button ups, ironed pants, and so forth made them all feel like colorless individuals whose light lines were even the now too-familiar white.

“Where are we?” I asked.

The and pointed ahead to a large pale blue veil of light. The people we passed were either leaving it or mingling in the hallway to gossip about the odd intruders, or so I felt inclined to believe.

I kept my head down until we passed through the veil. As we did, my neurospace connected to a new network and received an abundance of notifications that granted me access to a variety of chatrooms and cognitive libraries. The chamber we entered was larger than Hadrian Palace, at least above ground. Straight ahead a railing blocked us from the open center of the room. The paths to the left and right met on the opposite end and the rings continued above and below as if the entire basement was connected by the empty space in the middle. About ten floors above us a holographic pyramid rotated in the air with an eye on each side.

“Follow me, please,” the and instructed and did not wait. Ralia pulled me and I followed her to the left, though I continued to gawk at the underground majesty. Floating pales with a ring of light to provide a railing took some people from one level to another. The ethereal synth continued to play, but it wasn’t as noticeable over the oddly comfortable return of constant chatter.

If this was the Correction’s core and the origin of the false-Earth lie, I could only fathom what else was stored in this vast library. Perhaps it wasn’t a library, but a large office whose very purpose was to maintain the illusion that humanity never left their birthplace. Could such a purpose occupy an entire establishment like this? Or were there other untruths being perpetuated here. Could this be the only remaining repository of pure truth? Pure Knowledge.

We stopped before a violet veil of light. A burly woman stood outside with metallic adornments on her robe like armor. There was a slight bulge on her hip suggesting a weapon, but I did not dare to stare at it under her imposing glare. I supposed that even organizations like this could not forgo proper security. I glanced above the door and noted two small security cameras pointing at us like sentinels.

Our guide approached the guard and whispered to her with his hand hiding his mouth. She watched us with an unbreaking stare.

“Why is there a second one?” the guard said. Her voice was deep and threatening, even in monotone.

The guide whispered again.

The guard’s eyes flashed. Her gaze softened, but it was only a subtle change from disgruntled to annoyed. She tapped the veil and it faded to a pale blue.

We followed the guide inside.

A large ring of a table floated in the center of the room. Twenty people sat around it, all facing inward, towards the glass prism. A woman was speaking as we entered. Her face appeared as a hologram of violet light in the core of the prism, but her voice needed no amplification. An older man began to speak and his voice was amplified a touch louder to match her volume. He stopped speaking as he–along with all of the others–turned to see who had entered. Most glared at us as if we had committed a crime by interrupting them. A few smiled at our presence, especially the man who spoke to greet us.

“They’re finally here.” His voice was a still, a referent glee that paired well with his almost child-like grin. His skin was not as young and smooth as most of the others. He was an elderly man of Eastern Arabasian heritage with black hair and wrinkles that spoke of experience more than mere age.

“Yes,” Ralia said, “we are.” She walked forward after pointing out the obvious with no semblance of respect. She stopped before the table and stared at the face in the prism with arms akimbo. “What now?”