Chapter 3: Spoiler Alert
Return to Chapter 2: A Special Opportunity
Dontae's a little edgy. Most of the other plebes saunter into the office anywhere between eight and nine AM. But he always feels a bit out-of-sorts if he's not dutifully stationed at his desk by eight AM sharp.
Normally he'd be in good shape. He only needs to get to the third floor after all. But there's an odd gaggle of employees gathered around the elevators. And there's none of the usual flow of workers stepping through the elevator doors - because none of those doors are opening.
Dontae's entire #LifeGoal for today is simply to get through this day of work as quietly as possible and then rush home to his condo. The season finale of Principle of Conquest dropped last night. And all he cares about right now is the prospect of eventually settling onto his couch to commence his own private viewing-party-of-one later tonight.
He stands for an awkward moment amongst one group of day-starters. He's impatient. But no one else seems bothered. No one speaks. They barely move. They simply wait, obediently, for the assumed arrival of their carriage.
He presses past the group, into the magical and invisible no-man's land that separates the (closed) elevator doors from all of the would-be riders.
The up-arrow button for this particular elevator is illuminated. Scanning left-and-right across the other elevators in the row, he sees that all of the other up-arrow buttons are similarly illuminated. He looks back meekly at the groups of expectant riders. They are unphased by him or the apparent lack of elevator mobility.
He turns back to the illuminated button and musters the courage to press it. He doesn't know why this makes him feel awkward. But it does. He presses it a few more times just for good measure.
[Emanuel]: Oh, yeah. That'll help.
The admonishment startles Dontae more than it should for such a mild "transgression". He turns and sees the warm smile of a short Latinx fellow. The man is huge. Probably pushing 150 kilo. He's impeccably dressed in a stylish charcoal-grey pinstripe suit, Italian wingtips, and a peach pocket square peeking out from his coat pocket. It strikes Dontae as... odd that someone so large is so nattily attired. He can't imagine what it costs to have such a flattering suit tailored to such dimensions.
Dontae's cheeks flush. He's unsure whether he's more embarrassed at the impulse to push the button again, or his own internal bias against people of wide girth.
[Dontae]: Sorry. I just figured that... it couldn't hurt?
The man chuckles at this conjecture.
[Emanuel]: Maybe not. But does it help?
[Dontae]: I dunno. Probably not. Just doesn't seem like these elevators are moving?
[Emanuel]: Give him a break, will ya? He's new here.
The non-sequitur fosters an uncomfortable pause in Dontae before he continues. He looks again at the steadily-growing ranks of passengers. No one else had spoken.
[Dontae]: How long you been waiting here?
[Emanuel]: Not long. A few minutes maybe?
[Dontae]: I guess I can just wait it-
[Emanuel]: OK, fine. A few minutes. Twelve minutes. What's the difference? Must you always be so precise?
Dontae looks again at the rest of the employees in the lobby. No one else - not a single soul - has said anything.
[Dontae]: I'm sorry, but... who exactly are you talking to?
[Emanuel]: Oh, don't pay Pontius any mind. He's always grouchy this time of morning.
[Dontae]: Ohhh...kay.
Dontae has no idea who "Pontius" is. There's no one else in the lobby who's acknowledged this man's conversation in any way.
[Dontae]: Maybe the elevators are out of order?
[Emanuel]: Depends on how you define "order"?
[Dontae]: Probably as in: Doors open. People enter. Elevator goes up-and-down?
[Emanuel]: Oh. Then they're definitely "in order".
The lobby is still filling up. Exactly how this is happening evades Dontae. He's unaware of anyone actually entering the lobby. In fact, it doesn't seem as though anyone's moving within the cavernous space. At all. But every-so-often, he peruses his surroundings again. And every time he does, he swears that new people have just... appeared.
[Dontae]: How can you be so sure?
[Emanuel]: Funny things happen on the equinox. It never lasts for long.
Dontae doesn't really know what to do with this statement. It's definitely not the equinox. The equinox passed a few weeks ago. And even if it were today, he doesn't have any clue how that could somehow impact the operation of Hegemony's elevators. But he's fairly certain that continuing this particular line of inquiry would be frustrating - for both of them. He takes a long sip from the cardboard to-go cup of tea in his hand and decides to give the situation a few more minutes.
[Emanuel]: You know that coffee's not good for ya. Angers the blood.
[Dontae]: Oh, well... it's not-
The resulting laugh is boisterous and somewhat alarming, given the otherwise tranquil surroundings.
[Emanuel]: Not at all! Pontius is quite egalitarian. But Friedrich? Well... let's just say he can be a right-arrogant twat at times. Don't let him get under your skin.
[Dontae]: Oh, I see.
Dontae definitely does not see.
[Dontae]: Anyway, like I was saying, it's not actually coffee. It's tea.
[Emanuel]: I do appreciate a piping hot serving of Earl Grey! Do you prefer to add the cream first? Or after?
[Dontae]: Actually, it's matcha tea.
The big man's demeanor switches in a surprising way. A mournful pall clouds his face as he shakes his head. Dontae has no idea how his matcha tea has inspired such a reaction - but he can't resist the urge to inquire.
[Dontae]: Not a fan of matcha?
[Emanuel]: Oh, I suppose it's fine. Just don't think I'll ever be able to look at matcha tea the same way again.
He can't resist...
[Dontae]: The same way again? Since... what?
[Emanuel]: Since Osmiria invited the Children of Erin to that tea party - that matcha tea party - and proceeded to slaughter every one of them. In cold blood. I woulnd't'ah seen that one coming in a million years! It was just so... brutal. But it made for one helluva season finale.
The inviting smile has returned to the man's face. Dontae's expression absolutely is not a smile. They gaze at each other for an awkward moment while Dontae struggles to maintain his composure. He checks the time on his phone. It's 8:11AM.
[Emanuel]: I'm talking about Principle of Conquest, of course. You a fan?
[Dontae]: I KNOW WHAT IT IS!
Dontae's outburst catches him off-guard. He doesn't seem in any way offended. It just takes him a moment to compose his response.
[Emanuel]: You know, you should consider taking the stairs. Someone like you could really use the exercise.
Dontae's never been accused of having an "athletic build". But this advice, coming from this man, definitely strikes an uncomfortable chord.
[Dontae]: Mmmhmm. I assume you take them often?
[Emanuel]: Oh, I used to. But I'm on a new workout routine. Been taking a lotta mental reps. The brain burns more calories than any muscle in your body.
The man returns his gaze to the unopening doors. A new look of fervent concentration overtakes him. It seems as though he's undergoing some type of strenuous effort, even though his body remains motionless.
[Dontae]: Yeah. Those stairs may be a good idea.
As he walks away, the man calls out to him.
Dontae grunts his "reply" without bothering to turn around.
[Dontae]: Uh-huh.
He walks swiftly away from the throngs waiting for the elevators. It's not long before he realizes just how unfamiliar he is with the rest of the first floor. Despite working here for months, he's only ever gone straight to the elevators. Once he's clear of the main lobby area, he's confronted by a long featureless hallway, going both right-and-left, that appears to stretch the length of the massive tower. With little forethought, he veers to the right and proceeds to walk its length.
He doesn't know how many doors he passes, but none of them give any indication that they lead to stairs. Every door is closed, with no identifying numbers or nameplates. It's not until he reaches the very end that he finds one with a stairwell symbol emblazoned upon it. It also has a handwritten note taped to it:
STAIRWELL CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE. USE ELEVATORS.
He tries the door anyway. But it's locked.
[Dontae]: OH... FARGIN BLOGSTOMPERS!
He turns and heads back into the bowels of the building. He's not running, but his pace quickens again. Somehow, the hallway seems longer than before, as though every two steps travelled only gets him one step closer to his destination. The far end of the corridor - the end that should terminate at the other side of the building - is so far that he can't properly make it out in the distance. It's shrouded in a blurry haze.
When he finally reaches the foyer again, the throng of employees still waits for the elevators. It's grown. But he can't hope to quantify the volume. Without pausing, he keeps walking straight into the other wing of the corridor.
This hallway is identical to the last. But as he continues toward the presumed-end, he notices something about each closed door that hadn't struck him before. Each is equipped with a badge reader. And as he passes each featureless ingress, a small red light illuminates on its associated reader.
As he reaches the end of the hallway, he finds another door with the stairway symbol, just as he'd hoped. And just as he'd hoped, this particular door has no sign announcing its closure. He tries to open the door. But it's locked. That's when he notices that the stairwell door also has a badge reader.
He waves his badge over the reader. A small red light on the device illuminates and it emits a surprisingly-loud beeeeeeep. He waves his badge over the reader again. And again. And again. Each time it results in the same momentary red light followed by the same disheartening beeeeeeep.
[Dontae]: Oh, c'mon!!!
A tinny voice emanates from the badge reader.
Badge Reader: Plebes are not authorized to use the stairs.
He has nothing to say. He has no solution in mind. He starts the trek back to the foyer. But now his gait is slow. Measured. Defeated. He has no idea how long the journey takes. But it absolutely feels like a journey. A cursed quest.
When he reaches the elevator bay, the throngs are gone. It's completely empty. Except for Emanuel. The hailing buttons are all dark. Emanuel is still... concentrating. Staring straight ahead at a closed elevator door.
Without saying a word, Dontae presses the up-arrow button. The elevator door opens immediately. Emanuel stares at him blankly as the doors close on Dontae's epic journey to the third floor. It's 8:37AM.
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