The wall across from the door was, from floor to ceiling, glass. A gaudy choice, if you asked him. There was no view outside but the parking lot and, after the explosion, burnt rubble. If anything, the view was uglier than a wall would have been; the only purpose it served was to allow others to look in. But who was he? Nobody, really.
He knocked on the door lightly, careful to avoid the edges carved into the door - a rich American Cherry wood - and waited.
"Who is it," a voice from inside called, and he leaned carefully into the door.
"Mateo," he said, and the voice laughed lightly, the sound warm and full.
"What is it now, dear?"
"...a small hitch, Madam."
The voice sighed. "You've never been much of a talker, I suppose. Come in." The door creaked open under Mateo's hand, hovering above the doorknob. "Oh, no need for that, dear. Just come in."
Inside the room were more windows, floor to ceiling, framed stylishly in stained black metal. A woman sat in the far right of the room, her hair translucent white, her eyes closed meditatively. In front of her was a desk covered by the only part of wall that was - well, wall. A rich blue shag carpet, a white stripe down the middle, and softly curving blue-and-white armchairs faced her, in full view of the window and under a gold chandelier, dripping crystal teardrops like leaves.
Mateo bowed, hand over his heart. "Lady."
"Formal as always, Matty. You make me feel so old," the woman laughed, her eyes cold. "Well, do sit. Don't just stand around all day."
Mateo waved a hand around the room. "It's… nice."
"What, my new office? Oh, thank you, dear," she said, laughing richly. She seemed almost to blend into the room, hair and eyes translucent, accenting the streaks of blue on the wall behind her, arms and legs and body perfectly in control, still, and silent. Mateo sharpened his eyes, glaring silently.
"So, what, did you… match the room to yourself or something?" he said, fumbling for words, uncertain.
The woman, unbothered, leaned back in her chair, hair pooling over its edges. "I am immortal, you know. May as well look like I belong." Unlike you, her words seemed to say, and Mateo almost flinched at the barb hidden beneath her smile.
"The girl's escaped."
"What?" Mateo winced at the volume; he'd never seen her so angry before. "Who was on duty? Bring me the guard shift."
"She broke the chains. We believe she took… him with her."
"What?" she said, quieter, and Mateo felt the anger simmering, bubbling just under the surface. "Was it not clear how important it is that he stay asleep? Did I not make myself clear enough?"
"You made yourself perfectly clear, ma'am."
"Then why do we have a situation on our hands right now?"
"We believe… we believe they were both awake preceding the escape. It seems the dragon is making his move."
"Who told you that?"
"I… I'm sorry?"
"Who told you… never mind, never mind. Why do you believe they were awake?"
"The security cameras, ma'am. In the room?"
She leaned forwards, tracing a pattern on the table. "Yes. Yes. So he woke up before… she broke him out?"
"Yes, ma'am."
The woman looked up, her blue eyes glinting in the midday sun. "How long before?"
"I'm sorry?"
"How long before the breakout was he awake?"
"We estimate around half an hour, ma'am. Although some of our scientists say he shifted into near-waking around ten hours ago."
"Why was I not notified of this?"
"Well-"
The doors burst open, clanging onto the table by the door and knocking the vase adorning it to the floor. A man walked in, dressed in a gray suit, collar pinned back belly-white, hair slicked back, his skin an off-putting shade of gray. He grinned, flashing sharpened teeth, and bowed to the woman in the desk.
"Lav."
The woman remained composed, face arranged carefully into an expression of bland distaste. "Art."
"Beautiful place you have here," the man said, bending down and picking a shard up, admiring its glinting edges. "Bloody shame I knocked this thing over. I'll pay you," he grinned, tossing the shard to the side and dusting his hands. "This door is too well-oiled. You should fire your maintenance people. I have some recommendations."
Lavender smiled, steepling her hands together. "What do you want, Art? I have no time for your, ah… clumsy attempts at politics."
"It's simple, do you mind?" Art said, collapsing onto a chair. "My legs are dying."
"Of course."
"Ah, that's better. As I was saying-" he paused to pick his teeth with a manicured fingernail- "I heard he's awake."
Lavender stiffened. Mateo could feel her gaze burning his cheek. "...yes, he is. And we are… controlling the situation. We knew this would happen eventually, and we are putting our contingencies into action-"
Art waved his hand, settling back into the seat, dusting one of his suit shoulders. "Blah, blah, whatever. Who cares about fucking contingencies? He's awake for the first time in centuries. Do you know what this means?"
"Yes, of course I-"
"It means, Lav, dearest," Art interrupted, leaning forwards in his seat and flashing his toothy smile, "It's time for a meeting."
* * *
"So… where are we going?" Ananta asked, his voice shaky as they ran through the forest.
"To get lunch. And then the bermuda triangle, probably."
"Bermuda…?"
"That's where the gate is."
"Gate?"
"Where the Founders came from. Or so they say. I'm really mostly going off of what I overheard the quacks saying."
"Where is… lunch?"
"The freeway, and then the closest restaurant. I'm starving."
Ananta frowned. "Can you… drive?"
"No, but I have a thumb."
"A thumb?"
Ananta could sense the girl rolling her eyes. "We're hitchhiking. Duh. I'm, like, twelve. I can't drive anywhere."
"Isn't that… dangerous?"
"Like I said, I'm twelve, and you're… how old are you, six?"
"I don't know. I don't feel six."
"Well, you look six. Nobody's gonna kidnap us, besides. We're here, get off."
Ananta slid off the girl's back, his knees wobbling, and stared at the road in front of him. Cars roared by, towering above him like some vast animal, and Ananta felt a prickle of unease crawl down his spine.
"I have a bad feeling about this."
[Something was going to happen.]
"Yeah, well, what do you know? You got amnesia."
"You've… lived in a lab all your life."
The girl stiffened. "You don't know that." She stuck her thumb out straighter, face set, determined. "Someone'll stop. Someone'll help us. Just trust me."
Ananta shook his head, certain. "This isn't… a good idea. I know."
Suddenly, a car screeched to a halt, the man- his hair flaming red, sunglasses tilted down to reveal brown eyes glinting gold - in the passenger's seat squinting down at them through the glaring sunlight.
"What you two kids doing out here in the middle of the day, huh?" he rasped, voice curiously chirpy. "S' too hot for this shit."
"We're… We need a ride, mister," the girl said, putting her hands on her hips authoritatively. "Can you give us one?"
Ananta peered upwards through the sun, his eyes smarting at the light, and felt a flash of familiarity. "I know you," he said quietly, and both the girl and the man squinted in his direction, the girl surprised, the man uncertain.
"What'd you say?"
"I know you," Ananta said, more certain this time, and stood shakily. "You know me. Who are you?"
The man's eyes widened for a moment - just a second, barely perceptible, but Ananta saw. "You know me. Who are you?"
"Look, kid-"
"Who are you?" Ananta said again, feeling a strange sense of knowledge, of years beyond this man's comprehension, washing over him. "Tell me your name."
"It's Felix," the man said, almost robotically, gold eyes fading brown, "Sir." And then the haze subsided and the man stared down at Ananta in something very like fear as Ananta collapsed to the floor. The girl shouted something, but Ananta could not hear, because the world was fading; he saw the man's face, his gold eyes, before everything dissolved around him and went black.
And then he was somewhere. Nowhere. Everywhere. He was everything and nothing, all at once; a contradiction that did not contradict.
"You're here," a voice echoed, neither low nor high nor anything in between. Something new and old and familiar, all at once. "I thought you'd get here sooner." Ananta looked around - nothing. He could not see, or hear, or think; and yet his mind felt faster, his vision sharper, his hearing more acute…
"Old friend," he heard himself say, distantly, "I would like to say I missed you, but…"
The voice laughed. "The chase continues, does it?"
"As ever."
"They managed to stop us for a century."
"An accomplishment."
"Was your time restful?"
"I couldn't say."
"You can't remember."
"Neither can you. We are linked, you and I. One and the same."
"Birds of a feather."
"A matching set."
"One."
"Infinite."
[ANANTA.]