Waywalker

Chapter 3

His quarters was a hypothetical depiction of avant-garde machinery. Minimal decor, clean lines, metallic surfaces and chrome wall panels. He took two steps down from the elevated threshold and was met with a first class view of the entire city through the panorama window. Behind him to his right, a double bed had been arranged on top of a copper seal divan with a matching headboard and light-weighted microfiber bedding, a taupe colour. On his left was a floating desk with a Holopad wired into its surface.

Will recognised the Hologram beacon sitting next to the Holopad and started towards it, curious of how it worked. It was unlike anything he had seen back home. He picked it up from the desk, durable and light in weight, glossy and smooth to the touch. In the palm of his hand, he found the switch on the side and pressed it. A Holomap lit up, projecting a full map of the Imperial's Base. The amount of data this Hologram had stored was incomprehensible. Overwhelmed, he switched it off and put it back down.

The city lights brought an air of serenity that lured Will over to the large, panorama window at the end of his bed. He looked out, the lights mesmerizing, keeping him grounded. The rain had stopped, but the streets remained uninhabited. Something about the silent city felt off. Will couldn't put his finger on it.

The peace was pleasant unlike the unnerving silence down in the Interrogative Chamber, and short-lived when an electrical buzz alerted Will of an incoming broadcast from the Hologram beacon. Will turned towards it. An image appeared, projecting from the same output sequence as Will's face had. He recognised the stern face of Bill Grayson, his eyes staring past Will as if addressing a crowd.

"Citizens of Infinite City," he began. "You were promised peace, health and safety. I am here to uphold that promise. What happened was unfortunate. I won't keep you from the truth. Chancellor Victor Dark has fallen. But the Empire has not! You can be rest assured that the threat has been contained. And while I understand that some of you may still be unsettled by this, I encourage you to return to your daily normalities. A nightly festivity will be held in Victor Dark's honour with insurance of the city's future. Remember. You are in good hands."

The broadcast shut off. There were too many factors to insinuate the truth behind Bill's words. Too many occurrences to consider him trustworthy or not. Will needed more clarity before he could come to any conclusions concerning Bill's true intentions.

To distract himself from these mind-boggling thoughts, he decided a moment in the washroom and a change of clothes would do him some good. Truth to his decision resulted in a clear mind.

From the multiple choice of outfits that hung in his wardrobe, he had picked out a raglan navy blue t-shirt with pleated patchwork sleeves, matching black cargo jeans and a black sleek collared jacket. It may not have been his first choice in terms of style, but it was enough to feel like home.

Just as he was doing up the laces to his high barrel shoes, a hollow sound resonated from the floor panels. Will glanced to his right where the sound had reverberated from and saw the mechanical aspects of a melee grip, one of iron wrapped in carbon fiber. Curious, he bent down to pick it up, figuring it must have fallen out when he had been rummaging through the wardrobe. The grip was a perfect mold of his hand.

He studied the curvature of the strange gadget, adjusting his fingers until they came into contact with an interlocked switch. He pressed it. On contact, an iron rod with a pointed shaft protruded from its emitter. Will jumped back, both startled and fascinated. He regarded it from a distance of his outstretched arm. Did Bill know about this?

Will pressed the switch again and the rod retracted as suddenly as it had appeared. With consideration to its use, he decided to keep it hidden away safely in the depths of his boot pocket where no eyes would detect it.