"Going Down"

by Lennox O'Súilleabháin

There was no glamour or nobility in suffering together.

She’d repeated the mantra coming into work. Another memo was on her desk by the time she arrived that morning. It had been waiting for her there, the fourth that week “requesting” her “attention on the matter of the elevator”. With each subsequent memo the threats from management had grown more dire.

Rose Keis picked up the still warm paper, fresh from the printer. With a sigh she set it down and slid the memo to the stack of yesterday’s reports. Thumbing the power rune on her desktop’s tower she prepared for her daily tasks, she had plenty of work already. The power thrummed through the tower with the sound of cooling fans as electric currents ignited the internal etchings of runes, carved mechanically at microscopic scales. This process initiating the sequence of binary gateways channeling currents of Aether that booted up the system. The screen before Rose, dark and dead, reflecting her matching stare, lit up with a green background. At the screen’s center a smiling, stylized yellow sun logo of the Trisolar Trading Corporation. Beneath the logo was her name and a prompt for her password.

With a brief hum Rose mentally recited the string of letters, numbers, and symbols that made up the password given to her. The mnemonic jingle was a necessary creation as writing it down could land her in trouble. She recalled a former coworker, Elly, and how she had been fired for getting caught with a written password two years prior, before the pandemic. It was not the sole reason for the firing, but any reason put Rose on edge.

Glancing up from her screen, as the yellow sun spun, her eyes were drawn to the collections of empty desks all around her. They were the only remaining marker for the coworkers who had left. Fleeing in droves from the working despair of Trisolar’s Divination Department. Some were simply dead now.

When the pandemic first began, almost two years prior, the cycles of work it had disrupted seemed an annoyance, astral-commuting either too difficult or too liberating, depending on who was asked. Then coworkers and their loved ones died, the holes in everyone's lives felt for the several hundred thousand lost in the City-States alone. All these dire changes ignored completely as work was returned to management’s definition of “normalcy”. Normalcy now being six people running the jobs of thirty clerks and magi. Everyone now expected to wear two or more hats, and never expect a cent more. Now, solutions were sought with words like “independent contractors” and “gig magi” regularly tossed around by her superiors when Rose and her coworkers were evidently present. In the end it never got better.

Her wandering gaze regrettably got her eyes locked with one of the six in the department, Liam D’Archen, Divination Department Head. He waved and strode over to her desk lithe as a predator, a smile on his cleanly shaven face.

“Did you see my memo?” Liam chirped in his sing song office voice.

“Yes . . . I was going to get to it after my other work . . .” Rose explained, trying to keep the stress out of her voice. She withdrew the unread memo from the mounting stack of unfinished reports, files, and communiques.

D’Archen was Rose’s immediate supervisor, a welp just out of university with a degree in business, and Rose’s junior by two years. He’d secured the position through an astounding feat of illusion and misdirection in which the reagents required were merely an uncle on the board of directors and the providence of his birth. When Rose had asked him about his experience in magic and divination, he’d replied that he had taken several undergrad courses in it, a litany, no doubt, straight from his resume.

“We can’t continue to delay it.” D’Archen shook his head, emphasizing the “we” as though both he and Rose were equally responsible. “The elevator has been closed for weeks, and Mr. Tellen says he thinks he will call a professional exorcist if it’s not done soon.” D’Archen anxiously checked his silver wristwatch as he continued speaking, “Now I know I don’t need to remind you the sort of bind that places me within . . .”

The threat was non-verbal, and made D’Archen a complacent victim to her avoidance of the elevator. The message was clear. She confirmed she would take care of it immediately after her day’s work, and gave D’Archen her office smile, it was as strained as she was.

#

An hour after lunch, which Rose did not stop for, she was told by D’Archen that Mr. Tellen wanted to see her. Any color remaining in her face drained. She stood up and marched directly towards Mr. Tellen’s corner office six floors above hers, shirking off the few expected pleasantries coworkers offered as she passed. Such pleasantries were not for the walking unemployed. She chose the stairs in her ascent to damnation for she could not even consider the elevators, the source of her impending laying off.

Towards the entrance to Mr. Tellen’s office his primary secretary was working at her computer. She didn’t notice Rose until she was directly in front of the desk.

“I’m here to see Mr. Tellen . . .” Rose whispered.

“Ms. Keis, Mr. Tellen is waiting for you inside.” The secretary offered Rose a reassuring smile just as she stepped through the heavy wooden doors of the office. Rose could not help but notice the glint of pity in her eyes.

Inside it was blindingly bright as the natural light from beyond the windows bled in, completely dissimilar from the uncanny fluorescent lighting that filled the rest of the office. Rose blinked as she stepped cautiously into Mr. Tellen’s den.

“Ms. Keis, come in, come in. There is no need to be shy.” Behind the ornate wooden desk Mr. Tellen sat with his palms clasped atop the desk, dressed sharply in an expensive suit of First World design. He looked to be a man in his forties, but regular magical youth treatments had slowed the aging process allowing him to befuddle guessing.

Rose approached the desk, her hands clasped before her. “You wanted to see me, sir?” She squeaked out.

“Yes, it’s about that elevator. Liam told me you haven’t gotten to working on it?” He opened his palms out, elbows still resting on the desktop.

“That is correct . . . I was . . .” Words strangled in her throat.

Before she could continue with her explanations Mr. Tellen cut her off with a wave of his open palm. “No, no need to justify it to me, Ms. Keis. I understand you’re swamped in the Divination Department. I can only imagine how busy your day must be.”

Rose blinked, caught off guard by Mr. Tellen’s statement.

“That is correct . . .” She half-lied, unwilling to announce her true hesitations about the circumstances of the elevator.

“I value self-starters in my office, and I think it’s important to reward those men and women for their hard work to this company.” He emphasized the word “women” as he spun his right hand in the air, the gems of his cuff-links glinting in the lights cast through grand windows. Mr. Tellen’s tone conveying the same praise a master would give to an exceptional servant. “I think you’re deserving of a promotion.”

“Thank you, sir.” Rose stammered, unsure of her place.

“No need to thank me, I should be thanking you for all your hard work.” He points at her. “And, of course, a promotion deserves a pay raise. I think three percent should be enough?”

“I-I don’t know what to think, sir.”

“No need to decide now, of course. You can return this contract to me tomorrow.” Mr. Tellen slid the lone paper on his desk across to her. “However, I think it best you take care of the elevator today. Take a break from the rest of your work, take care of the elevator, and feel free to go home early. I just can’t abide a haunting in my office.” His praising tone dropped as he spoke the final sentence.

He dismissed Rose without any ceremony.

#

On her march down to her desk Rose read through the contract she’d been handed. Noticing the three percent raise was over a three year period, not even reaching a normal cost of living increase. She also was painfully aware the contract vastly expanded her list of responsibilities to various magical maintenance projects while redefining her employment as a contractor. She wanted to explode at the news.

As she walked Rose felt a presence at her side. Strolling with a disposable coffee cup steaming in hand was one of her co-workers, Deven Olies, clerk and accountant for her department. When Rose saw him he smiled, his shy demeanor colliding with her abyssal frown.

“Hey Rose . . .“ Deven’s smile faltered for a moment, but stayed on. “How’s it going?” He asked as though the answer was not obvious from her unwillingness to play the typical corporate pageantry.

“Yes?” Rose kept her voice monotone, trying not to chew his head off for daring to approach. She stopped and looked at him, daggers firing on automatic from her tired eyes.

“Well I just wanted to ask . . .” Sensing the interaction not going the way he expected Deven stumbled over his question. “Uh-Well me and a few other clerks were gonna head out tonight for a couple drinks and to . . . Uh-um discuss the workplace. You know?”

“I am busy.” Rose turned away and continued walking. She was in no mood for a drink or anything relating to work.

#

After returning to her desk Rose immediately grabbed her reagent bag and jacket and made off for the elevator. An exorcism was a fairly straight forward spell so long as it was a simple haunting. All manner of curses, demonic manifestations, and poltergeists were well out of her league, but all mages within the academies received some basic training in exorcisms. It was not the difficulty of the task that worried her, it was the moral implications. She left her cubicle behind and made for the elevator.

Approaching the elevator room she was met with the six doors, five unmarred, and the final one at the end closed with strings of yellow warning tape. Hanging from the tape an “Out of Order” sign warning any who dared enter. As she approached the elevator opened without a touch of the button. Ducking under the foreboding tape and sign she entered the small illuminated space.

“Hello, Tayl.” Rose said as she entered the elevator, her greeting distant and hollow.

“Rose! It’s great seeing you again, any floor I can take you to?” The spectral voice emanated from all around her, the whispers dancing about the metal paneled walls of the elevator.

“No, Tayl.” Rose sighed as she set down her regent bag and donned her sport coat, the temperature in the elevator had dropped far below the building’s central heating allowed.

“Why are you here then? It’s a bit early to be talking really, you have so much work to get done and I don’t want to be a bother . . .” Tayl’s disembodied voice trailed off as their unseen eyes locked onto the candles and incense Rose was sorting through in her bag. “You’re doing the ritual, aren’t you?” The words sent a chill down Rose’s spine, the betrayal palpable in the tight confines.

“I’m . . . I am sorry, Tayl.” Rose stifled down her emotions, she maintained her professional mask as she always did when she was pressed. “I don’t have a choice.” The words were devoid of spirit or meaning.

“There’s always a choice.” The spirit in the elevator retorted with some spite.

Before Rose could respond the fluorescent lights above flickered and went off.

“It isn’t fair!” The specter gave a deafening shriek. The elevator began to shutter slightly as the buttons next to the door flashed in bizarre patterns. “I didn’t choose this. I am not doing anything wrong this time!” The air was still, nothing stirred in the darkness until Tayl said in a cracked voice, “I don’t want to go.”

The fluorescent lights flicked back to life. All was silent bar a strange keening from far off in the distance- Rose knew the sound of a ghost crying. Her hands stood stock still, pale as she gripped tight to a ritual candle.

“Oh, Rose . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you . . .” There was a long silence following Tayl’s mournful apology, the keening had stopped.

Rose sat silent as well, her eyes closed tight, deep in thought. She did not want to do this either, but she could not continue to stall. She could refuse and forfeit her job. Tayl would stay another week before the company hired a professional exorcist who would have none of Rose’s qualms with the task. Ghosts were just pests to remove to pay the bills. The other option, she did it and kept her job, why did they both have to suffer after all.

There was no glamour or nobility in suffering together, her mind repeated as a mantra. Words a friend had said before a betrayal at the academy.

“You know the situation I am in Tayl, and for this I am sorry, but there is no other way.” She broke the silence.

“May a dead soul have one last request?”

“Of course.” She nodded fervently.

“I’d like to take up your offer from the first day, could I have a reading?”

“I can do that.” A slight smile returned to Rose’s lips as she set the candle down next to her and returned to dig through her bag.

She withdrew an ornate wooden box decorated in gold filigree and adorned on its lid with a silver eight pointed star. It was wrapped in a chord of silk. The box was warm to the touch in Rose’s hand, and as she lifted the lid off the heat glowed from the opening out into the cold air of the elevator as a star in a void.

It was a strange feeling having it in her hand. She had not read the cards since before graduation, four years prior, when she had done a reading for her then partner. The reading had not gone well, and boded poorly for their relationship. When reading his present deeper she’d discovered Brin’s infidelity, and left him after a tearful argument. Since then she’d kept her deck to the side as it only ever worked on individuals or small groups, and predicting figures for a massive interplanetary corporation required more complex means. Computers were the future management had said. Why create intricate spells of divination with several dozen mages when one could pull it off with an arcane computer running divination software, or more likely those dozen mages outsourced on a zero-hours contract utilizing their own arcane computers, “owned” on extortionate liens.

Once outside the box the deck of cards were visible, their backs were black and decorated in the gold eight pointed stars, all the same design as the star atop the box. Shuffling the deck through her hands she weaved the spell, splaying the cards face up before her, showing their blank surfaces to Tayl before she flipped them once more and set them before her.

“I’ve never had a reading . . .” Tayl’s voice echoed as half the face down deck lifted, invisible hands cutting the deck and imbuing them with their essence.

“Really? They’re easy to get these days via way-stones and their systs.” Rose questioned as she retrieved the freshly cut deck. The conversation reminded her to check her pocket for the rectangle feel of her own way-stone tucked in her green sport coat. Pulling out the glass and metal device she checked it was off- it could interfere in the reading.

“Of course, but those systs aren’t the same as a real reading with a true magi.” The compliment made Rose blush- rare as it was to receive praise for her choice in education.

“Let’s begin.” Rose grasped the top card delicately and flipped.

#

The tight confines of the elevator melted away, Rose now sat in an alleyway cast in the shade of the evening sun. Tayl was still with her, a silhouette at the corner of her eye. Before them both, leaning against the marred brick wall sat Tayl’s past. She was beautiful despite the grime encrusting her loose linen clothes and the sweat that drenched her ashen face. A cough, deep and course rasped from her- body hunched in pain, blue eyes bulged in evident agony.

“I think this is where I knew I would die.” Tayl, Rose’s Tayl, spoke matter of fact at her side. “I spiraled out the week before, and it came on so fast, and I knew I’d never afford a hospital.”

“The disease always does . . .” Rose had seen it before, everyone at this point in the pandemic had. Numbers were murky, but after two years the deaths were in the hundreds of thousands across New Callister and her sister City-States.

The lurking sunlight vanished, and the first droplets of rain fell on the two visitors. Within seconds it was a torrential downpour. Tayl’s past rose, leaning on the rusted tin garbage bin next to her and walked out of the alley. The world lurched around the past, and without moving from their seat Rose and Tayl were out in the street with the wandering past.

Rose recognized where they were now. The road they were on met an ascending plaza of dirty faux marble stairs and overgrown planter boxes. At the plaza’s zenith towered the Trisolar Trading Building, the same building Rose worked. The dirty faux marble and glass cladding matching the surrounding skyscrapers of the city’s high-town. Overhead the sky grew darker as the few figures scantly visible at the edges of the illusion disappeared into their own nooks and crevices. As far as Rose could tell it was near closing in the intermittent time when the offices had been half open and half closed, few were around and fewer would stop the coughing and mask-less Tayl as she climbed the stairs. Her strides swaying as she got closer to the entrance. Behind the glass and gold trimmed double-doors the security desk sat empty, and with the trickle flow of exiting office workers Tayl’s past found their moment and stumbled inside.

“I was looking for a place away from the rain.” Tayl’s present said. “I knew I was going to die, so I wanted to die dry. Maybe be someone else’s problem so I didn’t just end up in a dumpster.”

Both Rose and Tayl knew where the fugue ended- the elevator door, bronze and ornate, opened disgorging a gaggle of suits and clerks. All who passed Tayl winced from her, a few searching the lobby for security to handle the outsider, most just staying on their path. Tayl’s past entered the elevator, her present and Rose followed. Entering through the illuminated entrance of the elevator the pair found themselves in a room far too large for the elevator they were entering.

The tiny confines of the elevator were now a nursery. At its center a covered bassinet faced the other direction, over it a mobile of planets and stars danced around on strings. The room was lavish, its walls painted in colorful murals of strange shapes.

“A nursery?” Tayl’s disembodied voice echoed confusion. “I never had a kid. Especially not one who could live here . . .” Before she could finish a half-filled bottle was thrown by the infant occupant of the bassinet. The bottle shattered on the polished floor into a mess of baby formula and glass. The baby shrouded in the bassinet giggled in delight. The floor was clearly the same smooth tile that composed the elevator they sat in outside the vision.

“It’s a metaphor.” Rose mumbled.

“I know it’s a metaphor, but what does it mean?”

Rose took in the scene, hand clasped and thumb over her lips as she thought. She snapped her finger and blurted, “It’s about impact!”

“I am not following . . .” Tayl metaphysically scratched her incorporeal head.

“When a baby is first brought into the world the first thing they seek is to put impact on the world. They grab things, they knock objects over, they throw whatever.” Rose gestured to the mess of the bottle. “It’s a consistent human impulse to leave a trace. You can see it even in graffiti on pre-Night ruins.”

“I think I am starting to understand. Like ‘Helka was here’ or scrawling a mates number on a washroom wall to screw with them.” Tayl mulled it over. “I don’t particularly like being compared to a baby, but I understand what it’s trying to say. It’s kinda why I am this elevator’s ghostly operator.” They paused. “I never had much an impact in my life, and those I left behind probably don’t even know I died.”

“I am sorry, Tayl.” Rose instinctively turned her head to the person behind her, but stared instead into an empty corner. “I am sure those that do know you miss you immensely.”

“Maybe . . . And don’t be. It is what it is.” The specter’s shrug faintly visible in the corner Rose’s eye as a floater.

When she turned back to the bassinet she noticed the mobile above was twirling faster than before. One star in its constellation glowing and spinning as the center of gravity for the miniature, wooden star system. The casement bay windows at the other end of the nursery swung open. With it a cold breeze washed in from the starry night outside. The star on the mobile broke from its string and flew through the opening. The rest of the room flew away from them as the vision followed the star. Rose and Tayl still sitting in the same place as the view lifted out of the nursery and into the sky, following the increasing pace of the solitary star. The speed drove everything into a blur, stars, nebulas, and galaxies passing as a stellar stream. It was beautiful and disorienting, and over almost as abruptly as it started. They were in complete darkness, the only bright spot in the void the solitary mobile star.

“Okay, I am lost.” Tayl muttered. Rose could see Tayl’s silhouette now cast by the light of the lonely star.

“We are lost.” Rose looked around, unsure if the reading had gone awry. She closed her eyes and reached her hand out to feel the cards. In the elevator she felt three cards before her, matching the three scenes they’d experienced.

“Will something happen?” Tayl asked as Rose tried to manually flip another card.

Nothing changed.

Rose tried again, reaching out with her mind and her hand to attune to time and fate.

Still nothing changed.

Three more cards flipped.

The solitary star remained, nothing could change.

Rose sighed and opened her astral eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I am sorry.”

“I think it’s getting closer.” Tayl answered her apology.

“Huh?” Rose looked back up at the star, and squinted at it. She couldn’t notice a difference, but her eyes strained at the effort, ruined by daily shifts staring at a screen. “I am not sure . . .”

“It is. Very, VERY slowly.” Tayl emphasized the pace. “I don’t know what it means, but I know it’s moving.”

Grasping the deck before her Rose opened her physical eyes, drawing the reading to a close. She sat alone, Tayl back with her in the elevator. Leering over she saw the cards she’d played- the Vagabond, the Infant, the Star, the Star, the Star, and the Star. Pondering the results she drew the cards into her hands to stare at their stylized imagery painted by her magical act.

“Thank you for that.” Tayl broke Rose’s contemplation.

“For what?” Rose collapsed the cards in her hands. “It was inconclusive.”

“Aren’t they always?” Tayl’s voice was calmer than before. “It was clarifying enough.”

“I still need to think about this.” Rose put the cards back on the deck, and slipped them into their box. She stood up as she wrapped the box in its silk ribbon.

“Are you going to do the exorcism?” Tayl questioned cautiously.

“Huh?” Rose turned. “No, no I can’t let this reading go. I don’t think I could have done it.” She held her bag close to herself. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow. Doubt they’ll get a professional any time this week.” She reached out to press the open door button.

The door opened before she could reach the button with her finger. Tayl spoke, “Here, I got it. Want to stay on this floor or go to the lobby?”

“Thank you, Tayl.” She looked up at the elevator ceiling and smiled. “I’d like the lobby.”

“Lobby, going down!” Tayl barked out. The doors shut and the elevator descended down the dozens of floors.

#

Through the building’s plaza, physically now instead of metaphysically, Rose pondered what she and Tayl had been shown. Around her the plaza had seen better days. Piles of leaves cloistered and rotted under and around benches. On the initially white marble-like surface grime and trash littered every few steps, cigarettes butts especially common. The place had been allowed to decay, the teams of laborers and gardeners that had once been required to keep it pristine on a daily basis impossible to hire in large enough numbers, or more specifically at a cheap enough pay. The pandemic was once again the cause of the disturbance, despite some casting blame at the moral failing of workers. At the very least Rose assumed they could grab some building manager and power washer to do something, but it did not concern her too much. It was not her property, she just worked in it.

Making her way to the sky-rail station at the north-end of the plaza Rose thumbed the silk ribbon wrapped around the wood box that held her cards. The Star prominent in her mind and on her deck box. She was not paying attention to her steps. Her flat bottomed green-trimmed saddle shoes losing traction on a wet clump of leaves that threw her foot out from under her. Rose tumbled rear first down two steps, scraping her arms, legs, thighs, and hands. Sitting in the pain she gritted her teeth, and tried to breath through it.

“Are you okay?” Someone shouted as they ran up to her.

“No . . . No, I will be okay.” She tried to pull herself up to her feet with one hand, the pain forcing her back down.

“Here let me help.” Standing next to her was Deven Olies, a concerned look across his face.

Taking his proffered hand she pushed herself up in conjunction with his helpful lift. Her cheeks flushed as she dusted herself off. “Thanks . . .” She took a step on unsure legs. “Listen, about earlier.”

“Oh, don’t even apologize!” Deven threw up his hands in front of himself in a disarming gesture. “Steela told me the situation, and I completely understand. Can’t always keep the work-act up under such horseshit.”

“No.” Rose shook her head emphatically, still a bit disoriented from the fall. “I was rude to you, and there is no excuse for that.” With a sardonic smile she said, “Unless you’re Liam.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Deven returned the smile. “I’d actually like to explain myself a bit then.” He scratched the back of his head. “The reason we want to meet up this evening is to speak about doing something about people like Liam, or your situation today.”

“Quit?” Rose said wryly as she started to walk to station, directing Deven to follow.

“Not exactly, but I know we’ve all thought about it.” He chuckled as he walked alongside her. His hands now stuffed in his pant’s pockets. “We’ve been discussing unionizing, and I thought you’d want to join us.”

“Well now I feel even worse about my reaction.” Rose stopped and looked at him with a teasing smile. “I think I can come, if the offer is still open?”

“Of course!” Excitement exuding from Deven’s usual shy tone. “We’ll be at the Broken Barrel Lounge at seven.”

“Red Line, South to Maccklsy Row. Please mind the step.” A synthetic woman’s voice intoned as a string of steel cars trundled down on overhanging beams alongside the platforms that formed the station.

“That’s my ride. I better go then. See you at seven?” Deven dashed towards the train offering a half wave behind as he went.

“See you at seven!” Rose called after him and smiled.

He made it inside just before the doors closed. As the sky-rail rode away, rising up at a slope to travel over the canals and flooded old town, Rose watched it go and thought. It felt like she stood there for an eternity thinking, but the train was clear still in sight when she concluded. She pulled the delicate string around her deck and opened the box. Staring at the deck she tentatively grasped the first card and drew. Painted now on the card was no longer the Star, solitary and dim, but a constellation of Stars. A veritable galaxy of pinpricks of light shown. One star large and prominent, the one from before alone no more.

There was no glamour or nobility in suffering alone.