The Second Chapter

“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Senate, I am here today to beseech you, no, kneel before you to consider raising a monument. Not any monument, one dedicated to the hardships…sacrifices? Oh, this speech is driving me crazy.” The man softly growled and paced about the room. The door sliding silently open behind him.

“Senator? Mr. Toros?”  A hushed voice asked.

A young man, somewhere in his early twenties, stepped towards him.

“Yes? How can I help you?” Vikal turned to face the young man, his statured chin uniform against the white collar of his blue tunic.

Vikal smiled confidently, then the young man approached.

“I’m here to check on your progress with the speech. I’m Gib Ladley, your new assistant while Jen-” The young man stammered out before being cut off.

“Gib! Wonderful to meet you! Yes, Jennifer did mention that she would be sending someone to replace her while she recovered. Poor girl, getting cancer like that.” Vikal took Gib’s right hand and shook it vehemently, ending his introduction sorrowfully. “It’s horrible. She is a wonderful person.”

They both nodded in agreement and stopped shaking hands.

Vikal continued: “Truth be told, Gib, I need some help right now. I’m working on the speech fo-”

“The speech for the Last Heroes? I was hoping you’d tell me that. Honestly, I’m a huge fan of your work, Senator Toros. Advocate for the H.D.A, honoring our heroes, speaking out against corporate corruption, and trying to end unemployment and hunger. You’re truly the people’s Senator.” Gib gabbed quickly, going through a list of pent-up endearment for the Senator.

“Please, Gib, call me Vikal. I am merely a tool for the people, and I honestly believe the position I have should be used justly. I think you understand that, Gib.” Vikal said smiling.

“Of course, Vikal.” Gib smiled in response.

“Now, Gib, as I was saying…” Vikal peered at Gib who merely took a step back.

Vikal paced once more in his office, a space of deep dark red walls and flooring. A dozen red plush like couches sat at the center to entertain guests. A twisted statue of wood-like substance planted itself in the furthest back left corner, closest to the door – like a large artificial tree. A window stretched out behind his desk, encompassing the entirety of his vision. The city beyond the window a sprawling metropolis of grey metal spires and flying hovercraft. The sky a pale duskless blue, permanent in tint, and the sun glowing against the buildings. Vikal stopped pacing by the window.

“Sacrifices of the Transcendental Humans we call the Last Heroes. They sacrificed everything on that day, to bring about the end of Humanities’ worst event and worst enemy. Commemorate our fallen heroes and help me establish once again the guards of our worst nightmares. Thank you.” Vikal said with an emphasized “Thank you”, ensuring that it was booming and heartfelt.

Vikal turned to Gib, who clapped quickly.

“Thank you, Gib. Come over here.” Vikal gestured for Gib to join him by the window.

Gib, happily walked over.

“What do you see?” Vikal asked.

“I see progress.” Gib said.

“Well said, but I see a world that forgets where the progress comes from. Only looks forward, never glancing back even for a moment.” Vikal’s black hair mirrored in the window, suavely slicked back, his forehead visible and proud.

“Isn’t that what progress means? I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Senator.”

“Gib,” Vikal laughed, “It’s quite alright and you’re correct. I think looking forward is our only choice, but it doesn’t hurt to remember who we are or who we were. Progress has a funny way of eliminating history.”

“Are you referring to the Mid-Winter’s Day event?”

“You could say that, but I mean in general. Do you remember Earth, Gib?”

“I’ve never known it sir, only Axiom.”

“Ah, fair enough. Well, Gib, remember this moment and who you are. Because a lot of things are going to change.”

“I think I understand.”

“Good.” Vikal grinned, his smile reflecting off the window.

A red alert pinged across the window jolting Vikal’s grin away.

“I am so sorry! I almost forgot what time it was Senator!” Gib looked over at him and quickly made his way to the door.

“It’s not a problem, Gib! The driver knows what time it is, should be waiting for us!”

Vikal eyed himself in the window and adjusted his blue and white tunic – a singular piece of dark blue that also made up the pants. He slicked back his black hair and chattered his white teeth, his blue eyes without a hint of restless nights. Vikal then quickly turned from the window and walked with Gib out of the office. Gib fell behind, Vikal twisting through the office building like an elegant stream. He praised his staff in passing, nodding and smiling as he glided through.

They descended twenty stories in an elevator to the polished black hover craft waiting for them, its shape rounded into a curve overtop, seating only two in the back. The driver, a woman in a slick black tunic dashed with a white collar and wrists, waited for them. Her black cap closely shadowing her eyes, with long black strands of hair completely making her eyes invisible. They descended the cobbled stone like metal, and the driver opened the door, with black gloved hands, ushering them inside. Vikal entered first and Gib followed. The driver quickly got into the hover craft and they whizzed down the metal street. Overhead the traffic flew about in several different strands, all going singular directions across the planet, like fish schools.

The crème leather interior of the vehicle made Gib fidget slightly, as if he could not find a good spot. Vikal looked over at him, before turning his attention back out the window.

“Will this be your first time at the Senate building, Gib?” Vikal asked, but seemed to know the answer already, a slight smile forming upon his lips.

“Yes, sir. I just never got the chance to go before.” Gib said in fidgeting response.

“I think you’ll like it, it’s one of the largest buildings on the planet. Its original purpose was to house all the representatives of Axiom, but we’ve all since moved into our own areas. We only gather like this if enough senators believe it to be worth their time.” Vikal scanned the jetting towers of steel, the passing blurs of vehicles.

“Your speech about the Heroes monument?” Gib asked.

“Well, I think it might only be part of the subject. The Agency itself may be the real reason.”

Vikal stretched out a hand and the back of the seat revealed a clear glass cup. The glass was immediately filled with water from an overhead dispenser.

“They’re a vital part of humanities’ survival. I thought they would continue the Agency simply for that reason?” Gib finally found a comfortable spot within the leather, brushing his own dark blue tunic.

“I did as well but, if the project doesn’t continue to get volunteers...” Vikal took a sip of the cup of water, his voice trailing, and offered another glass to Gib who simply shook his head. A leather cupholder unsheathed itself between them and Vikal placed his glass in a holder, then opened the ice box just behind the holders and placed a few cubes of ice in his glass.

“I don’t think I can blame people for not wanting to join, I’ve heard that the process is risky.” Gib said hesitantly.

“Very. There’s more risk involved than dying.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’d tell you, Gib, but you’d need to join first.” Vikal smirked.

“Well, I.” Gib stammered as he could not find the words to respond.

“Let’s just say the Agency is more valuable to Humanity than any wealth, or idea we could ever produce.”

Vikal’s smile faded, his blue eyes narrowing as the Senate building peeled into view through the skyscrapers. Its visage seemed to push all buildings away – a giant tower piercing into the sky, accompanied by several other towers at its base that seemed but ornaments to the middle. Its metal exterior glinting the sunlight making it seem glass like, the smaller towers melding against its glare. Airborne traffic appeared to crossroad around the Senate Tower, twisting like bees in a hive, and all roads lead to it. The almost omniscient like building cast a long shadow, covering miles and miles of the vast surface, allowing for streetlights and various windows of buildings to stream across like flicking flames.

“To better all peoples.” Vikal Toros whispered to himself.