Sandstone: Distort

Prologue

Year 6952

"There's only one type of person inside you. You just need to find it."

<< Omniscient >>

The woman slides off the sleek seat of the floating vehicle. It fell apart into a smattering of blue lighted up squares that was pulled toward a strip of coded light, almost as if having glitched into thin air.  She pushed past the coded wall of the hyperlink that separated pedestrian and transport, the tangible code parting way for her to pass.

The woman had plaited dark brown hair that reached to her waist. Her dark eyes were a stark contrast to her pale skin. She wore a simple blue-grey dress shirt and jeans that showed her status as a Dirt Dome Dweller, the lowest of the ranks. Yet she wore the clothes with a sense of pride and shamelessness as if she didn't stick out among the crowd's bright colours and makeup and elaborate hairdos.  She took long strides towards a wall circling a large tall building.

The structure was sleek and a pale blue, black tinted windows along the outer walls. A fountain could be seen, peeking from behind the concrete wall. Despite its fancy architecture that had artificial plants and flowers blooming behind the walls, the woman thought it seemed rather imposing. Or even slightly threatening. Perhaps it was only because she knew who owned the building, the man behind the walls.

She stopped in front of a large panel, staring straight into a lighted strip by the side.

"Please place your ID code on the scanning board," a synthesised, genderless voice spoke, clear in her head despite the loud crowd behind. Tiny lighted squares flickered in front of the strip, stacking and pulling together to create a holographic board with the shape of a hand.

She looked at the board as it blinked, waiting for a response. Then she glanced down at her left wrist, where her ID code was imprinted into the flesh, down to the bone, showed in a skin tone lighter than hers, almost like a scar.

"That won't be necessary at all. I wish to speak to Denis." The woman's voice is almost celestial like, tinkling with a heaviness of rich honey and pure gold.

There was a pause and the woman wondered if she'd made a mistake after all. Then the holograph scattered into nothing more than fading light. The voice that spoke this time was male, dark with a hint of surprise and suspicion.

"Do come in, Ms Leifl."

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< ... >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The woman, Ms Leifl, had her hands clasped together under her rounded nose, her soft curves settling nicely into the sofa. She nibbled her lip as she waited, her previous confident facade slipping without the passing crowds to give her the energy. The room was a soft brown, carpeted and gave off a feeling of gentleness and comfort for which she was grateful for.

Another similarly black and cushioned sofa sat across the room, glaring and cold. A stack of rods with glass panelled extensions piled on a desk beside it. The door finally opened and a man entered.

"Ms Leifl." He gave her a nod although she did not bother giving him a greeting of her own.

The man is dressed impeccably, his hair not out of place, the goatee well trimmed and the suit he wore was ironed and cut to fit his figure. It reminds Ms Leifl of a salt statue come to life.

"How did you find me?" The man asks. His voice is the same as the one which answered her at the door.

"You're not that difficult to find, Denis. At least not for a genius's standards. Or should I be saying Ohann Zachirius Ann?"