Above and Beyond

Ayla burst past the gateman and into the room, relieved to be free of the crowded and stuffy corridor. It was fortunate that, with her long eyelashes and stealthy glide, long lineups were mostly irrelevant to her. She was disinclined to sweat. It would cause her makeup to run. Circumstance required that she attract as little attention as possible this evening.

Slumping against an ornately detailed baluster, she thumbed a small black notebook and lost herself abjectly in the vastness of the place. The chamber arced into a massive domed ceiling, clad in some sort of dully gleaming material. Opulent wealth sparkled everywhere. A central chandelier flowed like a stalactite of crystal, cascading in widening tiers until it finally dripped pale beams onto the floor. Below the mezzanine, a field of candlelit tables rivaled the stars, teasing golden gleams from the bijouterie.

Nine days ago she had never imagined standing at this threshold. Nine days ago she had slid undetected into a darkened city apartment and quietly defeated the safe. Among the loot she’d acquired the diamond necklace that now adorned her neck and a small black notebook. The book had confounded her. She had studied its unusual cover embossment and enigmatic words, augmented with maps and penned transcriptions.. It spoke of a greater cataclysm, further to the calamities of the preceding decades and referenced religious texts. She had puzzled at it, using insights learned as one who lived amongst and preyed upon the debonair elite of The New City. It had led her here, to the largest world gathering of elites she had ever seen, the set up to the biggest score of her life.

“You’re overdressed, aren’t you?”  

She turned to the masculine voice, surprised. He was handsome, tall and well groomed and his eyes sparkled with interest. Ayla had received only cold and dismissive treatment so far. This is different.

“Excuse me?” A manufactured smile parted her lips, disappearing instantly as his hand arced towards her suddenly. Her muscles coiled with protective reflex but then seeing his hand linger, her own hand rose to the greeting but he moved and she found only air. She cringed. His index finger pointed over her shoulder and then followed the path of a floating silver tray as it whirred past.

“Just a second,” he said before darting after it and the thing slowed to a halt.

He grinned back at her. “I really need to get me one of these!” He crowed in admiration, becoming absorbed in studying the device’s workings, even passing his hand repeatedly beneath it. After he removed two glasses of champagne, it sped off. He blew out a whistle and turned back to her, “Amazing.”

She faced him squarely, evaluating his sanity in no uncertain terms.

He grinned with quiet humour and held the glass to her. “I’m sorry for all that. Just a bit of fun.” He shrugged self-deprecatingly.

Ayla chuckled and took the offered glass, “Well …” she replied, “anything but boring.”

“Never, Ayla,” he said, emphasizing her name.

Panic froze her in place . This is…what?

“Do you see anything wrong here?”

Confused, her eyes darted about the room. She noticed a line had formed, like everybody was waiting to descend the stairs. But?

“Ayla, do you belong here?” he asked, frowning, “These people are leaving earth. Cryogenic sleep. Sound like fun?”

“Who are you?” she stuttered, seeking escape, preparing for a dash down the staircase.

“Alright …” He rubbed his chin. “I’m with the FBI. Agent White is my name. Joe White.” He flashed his ID discreetly and held out his hand in introduction.

Ayla reeled away from him, eyes wild as her heel snagged and she stumbled backwards. Scrambling to her feet, she stared at him in disbelief.

“Wait.” He closed the distance, “Look, I’m not here to arrest you ... but I did come here for you. I’ve been following you for weeks. I know more about all this than you know. You’re in a real mess here.”

Blood roared inside her ears as her mind’s eye played a discombobulated mosaic of images, like a movie chopped up and spread around a table. She realized he was still talking.

“…all the wealth of the world is here, literally, all of it. They’ve found a new home in Alpha Centauri.”

He took her white gloved hand and traced the embossment on the skin of the black book she still clutched, like a palm reader.

“You feel lost and alone in a crowd,” he said, “You want a chance to grow but you keep on, like a seed moving through the eternal Arctic wind. That’s their game. That’s how you’ve been living, isn’t it? That’s how we’ve all been living. It’s a rigged game, trying to fit in. What we really want is to belong.”

His words calmed her and she blinked the world back into focus, vaguely aware of amber light that started to flash rhythmically in the distance.

“Let’s go Ayla. We don’t belong here.” He was offering his hand to her.

She wavered, caught between the instincts that had kept her safe and the warmth of his voice. It was insanity. This was supposed to be a fat score, nothing more.

“You’d rather chase the money?” He pulled a stack of bills out of his vest and pressed it against her, “Here then.”  

She grasped the cash absently, expertly guessing the weight at twenty thousand dollars.

“Take it!” He shrugged and then walked away.

She became conscious of the people watching her.

“Wait,” she called but it was lost in the din. She hurried to catch up, “Agent White!”

Joe stopped and turned, smiling.

A cascade of loud chime tones rang abruptly through the intercom and a polite voice announced, “Great ladies and gentleman of The Order of Alpha Ortney. Please make your way immediately to your departure stations. Pre-departure procedures will commence shortly.”

Now, they ran. The flashing amber light marked the portcullis, which they could see was already closing.

Ayla grunted as one of her heels suddenly broke and Joe’s hand was at her elbow, pulling her back up. They paused so she could kick off the ruined shoes. The door was more than halfway shut.

A uniformed man, who was escorting a venerable woman, paled as they scrambled around a corner. They all collided and came down in a tangle. Wriggling from the heap, Joe heaved Ayla under the portcullis and then rolled after her. It closed with a boom, silencing the cacophony in an instant.

In the sudden quiet the echoes of their pounding feet seemed eerie. Encouraged by draughts of crisp air, they punched on and came out of the tunnel and into the night.

A warm drizzling rain washed over them. It was quiet. Ayla grimaced skeptically and scanned furtively about, instincts honed by her dangerous life.

A low visceral droning rose from the behemoth structure, increasing steadily in pitch, adding to her unease.

The lot was crammed with vintage gasoline cars of every imaginable make. “Hard to say how far we’d make it in one of these,” Joe said as they passed through. Fossil fuels had been outlawed decades ago.

“Here!” He mounted a slender motorcycle and ignited the hydrogen burner with a hiss.

Immediately a cadence of electronic beeps resounded nearby. Alarmed, they watched the sentry droid spring to life, its multiple sensors glowing like the eyes of a spider.

Ayla leapt upon the seat behind him and grasped him tightly, “Go!” she shouted.

The motorcycle shot ahead into the narrow aisles at exactly the same time the droid’s propulsion engines glowed white-hot and it surged to cut them off. An arm like appendage snapped out from its chassis and spun a web of fine steel cables like bolas. Joe opened a burst of acceleration that pulled their hips back and they sunk low into the seat, the net narrowly missing them. It knocked against the spinning rear wheel as they plunged into the main streets. Joe pulled evasively at the sound of a canister blasting past where they had been and the toxic mist dispersed harmlessly afield. The wind roared as the engine screamed.

After several minutes with no further sign of pursuit, Joe let up and they coasted.

Red and blue flashing lights lit up the night and roadblocks covered all of the bridges connecting the small island. Police officers scrambled to adjust their tactical positions as they approached.

Joe stopped the bike and flipped his visor. “They’re more here to keep people out than keep us in. But they don’t know what’s really going on.”

He puzzled quietly. The motor hummed warmly.

“As an officer of the law I could just go talk to them.”

Ayla returned a doubtful look.

He sighed and shook his head resolutely. “No,” he said, “we’ll do this the unconventional way.”

Ayla hugged him tightly.

The spotlights found them and they nearly went blind. The bike hissed to life and jolted forward. The distance closed. A voice blared orders over a megaphone.

The bike jerked abruptly and time slowed as Joe executed a sequence of manoeuvres. The front wheel kissed the sky and then the chassis impacted the curb, rocking them, and the bike shuddered, wheels locking in like guide posts. Sparks flew as they rode the concrete rail. Ayla screamed.

Then with another shudder the tires chirped against asphalt and they were clear. Without looking back, they sped away.

Later on, as the first faint light dimmed the eastern stars they sat together, overlooking the island and the domed behemoth whence they had escaped.

A whirring hum resonated throughout the city and through the very ground, causing tiny pebbles to dance at their feet.

“Joe,” Ayla said finally, breaking the silence and looking deeply into his eyes, “Agent White. Thank you. That was above and beyond…”

Lights upon the dome began to flash as the droning increased in frequency and volume. Ayla stood in astonishment as the structure lifted into the air.

After clearing its crumbling moorings it remained static, hovering in mid-air for a time. Then a rushing roar harmonized with an intolerable whine and it rose again steadily into the sky.

Joe pulled Ayla close and they gaped together. As the ship gained altitude, the harsh wash of noise faded. With a brilliant burst it caught the sun, then became a glowing speck of light. At last, with a final boom and a flash, it disappeared.

Sirens and the sounds of chaos from the city danced on the wind. It was too much. Ayla slumped to her seat.

Joe joined her quietly. She searched his eyes, and they both silently shared the reality of the incredible evening.

“Every lord, every grand swindler, every bond master, was on that ship,” Joe said, “Centuries of hoarded wealth…all the money in the world, gone. “

The weight of his words fell upon her. There was so much strife in the world — mass extinction, drowned coastal cities, starvation and ruin. Could the world survive without the unseen hand running the game?

“We can pick up the pieces and do it right,” Ayla replied, “Put value in the right things. All those ‘bond masters’ are gone too.”

Joe watched her and nodded proudly. The future was clear as crystal and just as fragile. The noise from rioting in the city grew fiercer and Ayla frowned.

“All the money in the world,” she said, echoing Joe’s words and she flashed him a teasing smile and reached inside her gown, “Not quite.”

Joe half turned to see the stack of cash in her hand that he had pressed upon her earlier. “That might be useful,” he shrugged.

She approached the edge of the cliff and opened her hand. The gusting wind caught the bills and scattered them. Each one fluttered into the darkness, vanishing like a wish, a hope, a prayer.

They stayed together and watched the dawn.