NINETY-FIVE: What’s name

“Arous. I’m so glad I could find you, it’s like a pit in here. I’m taking you to lunch today so we can talk a little more about working together. I have to run out a bit, take care of some minor . . . things. It will last about an hour. You finish up here and then meet me up in my office.”

“Hey, can you get the stool to take off the classified information about you? I mean, I can’t find anything about my mother that doesn’t pertain to you.”

He looked at her and smiled.

“Of course.”

There was something he wasn’t telling her.  The look on his face seemed to say he was pleased she was about to find out.

“Security controls, please take off the classification about me for Ladioselle Arous for the next hour.”

“Security controls recognize Ephor Ricci is authorized to remove classification. Classification is removed for the next hour. During that time all blacked out articles and sections will be available for search and capture.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re wish is my command, Revered Ricci.” The stool bobbed up and down with delight as if it knew the Ephor.

“I love it when they say that.  It makes me giggle,” he said. “Arous?”

“Yes?”

“I’d start at the top.  What you want to know is up there.”

Ricci left and Arous continued her search, looking exactly where he’d pointed.

She found an article: Ricci appointed as next Ephor of Pangaea Canadí.  The first line of the article read. “Ricci is the first Ephor that is not from the City but is from Alippiana.”

She thought about what Siobhan had said.

“Ephor Sextus.”

“Ephor Sextus Ricci,” said the stool and started taking Arous up.

“No . . . before Ricci.”

The stool stopped. “That’s easy. He’s dead.”

“Okay?”

The stool didn’t move.

“Can you take me to an article about his death, please?”

“Are you sure?”

Arous didn’t respond and the stool started moving slowly and stopped in front of another box. She pulled out a paper.

In big letters the headline read: SCANDAL! The first line read: “Ricci, the next candidate for Ephor, and good friend of Ephor Sextus Mullingaard, was witness to the murder of his colleague. Ricci claims that Mullingaard killed him in a mad fit.  His descent into madness was feared by high standing members of MOTA but not to the general public.”

“So Ricci was there. That’s what you wanted me to know Siobhan?”

“And really, who needs to know more?” the stool said and dimmed the lights.

“I can’t read.”

The stool went down a couple of stops.

“Here,” it said. “This box. First paper. Page 6.”

Arous did as the stool directed. Flipping to page 6.

The small heading on page 6 read: “Quetzecoatyl SEEN by Cleaning Crew in Archives. Quetzecoatyl is a mythological creature from the Incan empire thousands of years ago.  He was also thought to be one mean god. When the witness were sought for questioning, they couldn’t be found. Ephor Sextus Mullingaard back-ups the claims of the cleaning crew saying that he had personal contact with Quetzecoatyl, though this information remains classified. Ricci held a press conference -”

“What’s name,” Arous whispered.

The stool jerked down and Arous dropped the paper before she finished reading.

“Hey!”

“That information was classified,” the stool defend itself.

“How come it was in a public paper?”

“All papers had DNA readers.  Only members of the MOTA were read that line,” the stool paused. “And you, only because Ricci gave you full access.”

“Turn the lights back on, I want to finish reading,” she said.

“You know, after Mullingaard died,” said the stool. “Ricci took all the words out of the paper and just had pictures.  I mean, most things were pictures by that point, but Ricci took out all the rest of the words.  He doesn’t like the Word.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Shhh. Someone’s coming,” the stool whispered.

Arous froze.

Footsteps.

Arous remained still. The footsteps got closer and closer. She peered into the darkness at the end of the aisle. Even the stool quit bobbing.

She could make out a figure at the end of the row.  A dark figure stood staring at her.  He glowed so that she could just make out the crisp outline of his frame but not any details, not his face.

“Ricci?”  The figure moved toward her.

The figure stopped.

“No.  You’re not the Ricci.”

All Arous could invision in her mind were those grey pin-striped suits and moist skin.

The stool plummeted until Arous could jump off.

She began to run.  She could hear the footsteps getting louder but not faster.  They seemed to mimic her heartbeat. She got to the end of the aisle and began to run back toward the entrance.

She stopped.  The floor shook. A loud crash.  She twisted around.  Another loud crash.  The bookshelves began toppling.  She could hear them but couldn’t see them. She turned around.  The thick bright fog rolled ahead of her; behind hulked the pitch with the echoing footsteps and toppling shelves.

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder.  The hand pushed her toward the fog.  She struggled.   Arous turned to face the stranger.  He still had the same massive hulk and perfect posture but no face. Arous dropped to the floor to try to escape the man’s enormous grasp. She began to crawl.

Arous could sense debris falling around her. Under her hands and knees, the floor began to buckle and crack. Arous could make out a speck of light in front of her. She scrambled across the floor as the dot grew into a beam. The light pierced the dark above her: an uncovered manhole.  Fifty feet remained between Arous and the outside. Arous felt the wall for an escape ladder and began to climb up it.  A hand touched her foot. The ladder collapsed. A force pushed her to the edge of the opening. One last shove and Arous burst through the hole.

Once on the outside Arous caught her breath. The City Building lurched to one side like a cruise ship struck by an iceberg. The dust wafted thick. Arous blinked and coughed, pulling a silk scarf over her nose and mouth. A few minutes later and Arous saw the rubble that surrounded her, the ruins of the City.

            She could save herself and she didn’t save her mother.