Elements of Earth: The Element Trials

Chapter 10b, 2020, Estrellita: Reality; Nightmares in the basement

It falls only a few inches, relative to me, before I regain my footing, but I can tell it's moving down very fast. An elevator? Then my knees buckle. By the time it stops I've been brought to my hands and knees. I brace myself against the wall finding what I now realize to be a handrail. Struggling to my feet, I didn't know the door had opened until I hear the sequential clicks of many powerful overhead lights turning on. I take one step out of the hidden door elevator only to stop. Frozen. Absolutely drop dead stunned. I am standing on an elevated platform looking down over a massive warehouse.

In the center of the metal platform is a podium. On it is a closed scroll that opens on my approach. Apprehensively I look at it to discover that I can't read it. It isn't even filled with words. Instead, there are vertical lines. Colored blocks fill in the area between and around the lines in sections. It's pattern speak of organization. Seems a silly way to go about it since there aren't words or symbols to represent whatever might be organized.

It doesn't look like it's made of paper. It has a reflective sheen. I try to confirm this by poking it with my finger. Simultaneously, two thought occur to me. One, that I am right. The second is the wordless fear and surprise that one experiences when something unexpected happens. "Section A15, professional. Evidence of war crimes, Syria." An androgynous digital voice announced.

"Hello?" I know it's a computer but I want to see if it can respond. The stretching silence tells me it is not like Vivian. I tap another of the color-coded blocks.

"Section B23, professional. Evidence of corporate espionage, EA." Daddy works with politicians. This warehouse must be filled with his professional life. Wait, then why the professional designation? I swipe to the left since up and down does nothing. A search bar appears but there is no keyboard.

"Search personal."

The scroll rotates revealing more lines that represent shelves. It stops at the end of the scroll where all the lines are blocked in as green. I tap one.

"Section Z, personal. No information noted."

"That's helpful. At least the warehouse stretches out in only one direction. I won't get lost."

And so I walk down the steps and up the halls of shelves. Each shelf is made from adjustable metal beams holding up wooden slats. I only notice this because some shelves needed to be widened to hold much larger items than others. While most are standard file boxes others, like the large crate of presumably deactivated missiles, are strapped to wooden pallets. I take a while to notice but the warehouse lights have been selectively turning on and off based on my position. From the platform, it was lit in all its grandeur. but for maintenance or power management it must be programmed to only light the area being browsed. Perhaps the motion sensors in the next area are lax or the AI controlling them wanted a dramatic reveal, because of this the area ahead is dimly lit.

The lights turn on overhead with a simultaneous 'whump.' The shelves in this area are spread out along the circular walls. In the center, resting on the concrete floor is a giant, rusty, humanoid robot. At that very moment, an alarm goes off. It takes a few moments for me to stop gawking and silence the thirty-minute reminder on my phone. Class starts early today for a special activity. It took me fifteen minutes to walk this far into the warehouse so I don't have time to go to my room, shower, and change. So I go to my old room, the one a single floor down from class and hope I can find an outfit that still fits.