His father owned one of the oldest office buildings in Northern Ohio. Just off the lake, it was three stories high, thirteen blocks long, with a basement three levels underground. The old, dilapidated parking lot was cracked and faded, with small weeds poking out of the widening gray cement. Still, a few old hover cars could be seen floating above the faded yellow lines, where James Newman finds himself debating whether he should or shouldn't enter the building. James sends out a drone from the front of the car that ascends into the sky and then encircles the building. Its camera finds rolling gray waves crashing against massive cement blocks and splattering on a sidewalk with a slapping sound on the opposite side of the building.
A hover car slides in next to him, and an older-looking gentleman gets out with his briefcase in hand. Smiling, he walks through the parking lot and enters the building. It's at this point that James Newman decides to see what kind of job his father has to offer.
Recalling the drone to the car, he gets out of the vehicle and navigates his way through the fractured parking lot. A massive sidewalk is met by several rising cement steps with well-kept shrubbery decorating the front entrance. A row of glass doors reflects his image as he enters the building. The doors make a slight squeak as he makes his way to the receptionist.
The lady sitting behind the desk is on an old, corded phone and looking at several monitors behind a desk. Hanging up the phone, she addresses James before he can introduce himself.
"Yes," Said the dark-haired lady, "he's expecting you: Third floor, in the middle of corridor three. I'll download a map on your phone. -- Oh! And the elevator is out of order... again! You'll have to walk up. Sorry."
James takes the stares to the top floor. Walking down the hallway, he hears his father's voice; the old man is speaking loudly into an antique landline telephone. Then he hears the handle slam down onto its cradle. It rings with the sound of hard plastic against hard plastic. James turns the corner to his father's office. His father is standing with his fists atop an IBM, gray steel desk. The man's back is facing a large picture window. James's father picks up his head.
"James! You made it! For a while there I thought you weren't gonna come."
"I have to admit, I wasn't so sure myself, but then I thought, let's see what the old man has to offer. I owe him something; after all, he'll be bequeathing me a lot of money someday."
"Old man is right." Said James's father, with a bit of pride. "But it's not about the cash. You and your siblings only stand to receive what's fair because of my wayward lifestyle... And I can afford it. But that aside, what do you know of what we do here."
"I'm not exactly sure. It says online that you build drones for the military."
"A side job. A distraction. What really brings home the baken is the long line of toys we make for the kiddies. We make all kinds: From space guns to windups. And from all kinds of materials! Plastic, plush, mettle... We do it all!"
"Sounds like fun."
"It is. So, I was thinking we could use a good person in research and development."
"For the drones?"
"No, no, no. I need you to create and design some hi-tech toy robots. Now they must be fun and above all else, safe!"
"Doesn't sound so hard."
"Maybe not for a person with your background. But it's not that easy either. I think you'll find the toy market challenging. Kids are surprisingly discerning."
"I may be a little overqualified for this."
"I've thought about that. But this job is really just an excuse to pursue your other interests."
YOU ARE READING
In The Shadow Of The Tower
Science FictionTwo super-rich kids grow into young adulthood and struggle with their feelings for one another. She has loved him for quite some time, but he is unsure and needs to figure things out. She is also engineered by her father's company to love someone el...
