“Now if you follow me, we will conclude the tour with a treat! Through this door is our exclusive gallery of pre-city era artifacts, reserved only for the Spire’s most esteemed guests on special occasions.”
Grateful to be nearly free from the torment of tour duty, Aileesa tenuously held her fabricated smile as the group funneled through the door. She waited for the last person to leave the hall before allowing herself an exasperated deep breath. Only a few thousand cycles ago, she had been a bright-eyed student at the top of her class applying for one of the most prestigious public positions in the Spire. She had been promised lost knowledge belonging to only the most stalwart protectors of the past. Now she was dressed in a tacky pencil skirt and jacket as she babysat a herd of spoiled zone 1 children along with their disinterested parents. The recent waves of downscaling had hit the Archives harder than most departments, and this Founding Cycle tour was supposed to have been Esma’s shift. Everyone in Archives had known she was tweaking the spreadsheets, would it have been too much to let it slide for just a few more cycles?
As she followed the group in and closed the door behind her, she confidently strode to the center of the gallery. After subjecting herself to room after room of monitors and holograms depicting the evolution of the city, it was satisfying to finally stand among actual history. This room made the agony of running tours almost worth it.
“Before the Archives were established as an official institution roughly around cycle -19800,” she recited, “history was largely recorded by oral tradition and artwork. From these artifacts, archivists have been able to piece together the events leading up to the Founding but most of it remains speculation. Let us start with our oldest item, one that still continues to puzzle us.”
Aileesa’s ridiculous heels clacked against the pristine floor and echoed as she walked to one end of the gallery. Unlike the other exhibitions on the public floors of the Spire, the pre-city era gallery was fancied up for the more discerning patrons and donors. Every surface from the tiled floors to the high ceiling was a sterile, polished white. A row of plush cushioned seats was situated in front of each glass-encompassed item in the collection.
She stopped after reaching the wall, calmly waiting for the parents to hush their overly energetic children. With normal groups she could just breeze through the script, but the exclusive Founding Cycle tours demanded a certain degree of extra patience.
“Here we have the Four Lords Tapestry,” she said. “This is the only remaining artifact depicting the start of the Eternals’ War period. As we all know, this was a brutal time in history and very few records of it remain. This beautiful tapestry was discovered by chance during the digging of New Agamakar’s foundation. It was found buried in a raided vault and hidden behind a clever false wall; we believe that it was stashed away by a local warlord during the beginnings of the fighting.”
Starting at the far left, she gestured at the frayed edges of the tapestry. She had written her Academy dissertation on the historical implications of this piece and spent hours poring over pictures of it but being this close always felt surreal.
“Although the edges are severely damaged,” she said, “we can see faint motifs of fire and death along the four cardinal directions. It is believed that this depicts the suffering of the common folk under the tyranny of the four ruling factions at the time. The middle section of the tapestry is surrounded by a thick layer of stone; this represents the fabled fortress of Agamakar, from which our great city inherited its name. Although it is unlikely that it actually existed given the lack of archaeological ruins, it was a symbolic seat of power for the four factions. But perhaps the center of the piece is the most illuminative. Here we see the distinctive figures of the factions’ lords huddled around a spear bathed in light. Texts from later periods allude to a powerful weapon hoarded by the four lords and used to subjugate the populace. Some accounts claimed that the original members of the Consortium confiscated the weapon to end the Eternals’ War, but no record of such an item ever persisted in the Archives. I, for one, have yet to find a pointy stick in any of our storerooms.”
Aileesa paused for the collective reserved chuckle from the group. They always loved that line.
“The prevailing theory among archivists is that this spear is an allegory for the political and military strength that the Four Lords held,” she explained. “A spear can only be held by a single pair of hands, and it was well known at the time that the Four Lords were not at all aligned on their vision for the future. In the twilight of their rule, the mistrust between them grew. One failed assassination attempt later and tensions boiled over into the start of the Eternals’ War. Perhaps the spear was a cautionary tale of sharing power between parties, or perhaps it still remains buried and waiting to be unearthed.”
The group muttered among themselves as Aileesa smiled through gritted teeth. The “prevailing theory” was bullshit. She remembered the sleepless cycles spent inspecting every thread of the Four Lords Tapestry and cross-referencing with hundreds of texts in forgotten languages. Her dissertation was supposed to be a genius breakthrough in pre-city studies, but now it sat in a forgotten corner of an Archives database as a novelty.
Wanting to get the tour over with and distance herself from the tapestry, she eagerly herded the group to the next item. “After the end of the Eternals’ War and the formation of the Consortium,” she continued, “the world enjoyed a resurgence of art and science as we began construction on the foundations of the city. Before I leave you to explore the relics of this era for your own curiosities, it would be a shame to gloss over our most prized piece – especially on Founding Cycle. Over here we have a copy of the original schematics for New Agamakar signed by every member of the first Consortium!”
Aileesa ran through the rest of the script without conscious thought, her eyes and mind still wandering over to the Four Lords Tapestry. The stupid children asked their stupid questions. Their parents perused the gallery with their vacuous comments about how quaint it was. They lingered for long enough to appear cultured until they became bored and trickled out. The gallery quieted down as Aileesa yearned for the next lev-tram out of the Spire. She eagerly watched as the last couple shepherded their squawking child out towards the gift shop. With her hand on the door, she did one last scan of the gallery and her heart dropped. A lone woman stood in complete silence, unmoving and transfixed on a particular painting. Technically there were still a few more minutes left on the tour.
With nothing better to do, Aileesa walked over to indulge her a little and fish for a better review. The woman wore a luxurious black synth-fur coat, a style that had fallen out of favor some time ago among the city’s upper echelons but one that still commanded an exorbitant price. She made no motion to acknowledge Aileesa as she intently examined the painting behind the glass. It was a portrait of a handsome man with flowing blonde hair and polished bronze armor, his eyes burning with conviction.
“Quite the specimen, isn’t he?” Aileesa asked. She had been encouraged during orientation to make small talk with the higher profile guests and she hated every moment of it. “The Sun Emperor was said to have been the most brutal of the Four Lords; his was a highly militaristic society bent on conquest. If not for the Consortium’s intervention, it was widely believed that he would have come out on top of the Eternals’ War.”
The woman huffed but did not turn to face her. “It’s such a well-crafted story,” she said, “perfect for an adoring audience. Good versus evil, the forces of progress triumphing over ignorance and barbarism. But…does anyone ever wonder what he was like beneath that armor and ambition?”
Her voice was soft and lulling, almost sad in a distant sort of way. This was not a typical vapid zone 1 socialite. Presented with someone who might be capable of independent critical thought, Aileesa decided to poke at the conversational boundaries.
“We have sadly few records of his life among the Archives, and those that remain have lost much of their meaning in translation. There is a peculiar passage from one of his scribes quoting him on the topic of the fabled spear. Most archivists dismiss it as idle prose, but an astute reader might notice that the Sun Emperor himself refers to the spear with a gendered term. One has to wonder if this is merely an error of translation, or just maybe that the spear was more than we thought.”
The woman’s shoulders briefly stiffened before she turned to face Aileesa. More than the sly smile on her lips, her eyes demanded full attention. It would have taken tens of thousands of cycles for Aileesa to afford such a stunning pair of ocular mods; the captivating violet irises rotated and focused as they scanned over her.
“My, that is an interesting theory,” the woman said. “I would love to hear more about it, but I am afraid that we won’t have the time for it today.”
Her eyes drifted over to the entrance as sound exploded into the silent gallery. The door burst open, torn off its hinges as a group of five Compliance officers filed in. Aileesa shrieked and jumped back against the wall, but the other woman stood her ground and calmly faced them. As the officers fanned out around the gallery’s perimeter, another figure ducked through the door frame. Dressed in an elegant, form-fitting suit, he towered over even the impressive officers. The agents of the Consortium rarely ever left their office residences at the top of the Spire, but the featureless ovoid mask he wore was unmistakable. Few besides the upper ranks of Administration were ever allowed in the same room as one of them.
“Explain yourself.” His voice boomed through the gallery, monotone and uncompromising. Between the entourage of Compliance officers and the red handkerchief in his suit pocket, Aileesa knew that she was currently cowering before Agent Two. The man commanded both Compliance and Enforcement, and here he was making a personal call.
“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see my old friends?” The woman was overly confident, even…mocking?
Agent Two gave a signal, and in unison the officers produced extractors pointed directly at her. “Our terms were clear. You have your channels.” Compared to the woman’s light-hearted taunting, his words were entirely devoid of emotion.
The woman shrugged and sighed. “Please, let us skip the theatrics. I thought we were long past the mistrust. Allow me to cut to the point, dear: my informants have spotted that psychopathic little shit in my zone. You of all people should know what that means.”
Agent Two cocked his head before signaling for the officers to lower their extractors. “We have monitored the illicit activities of both Kimulos and the Chains broadly. They are well within tolerable bounds. Beyond our agreement, the Consortium has no interest in your squabbles.”
“Are you?” The woman’s question was sharp, far more pointed than her earlier playful tone. “More and more slips underneath your gaze with each passing cycle. The cracks are forming for those who care to look. Or, maybe…all of your attention goes to your little pet and there’s none left for the rest of us?”
“Enough.” Agent Two turned to look at Aileesa and her heart froze. “I will entertain your complaints, but I will not have you insult our project. Before we continue, the civilian must be removed first.”
One of the officers advanced, but the woman took a step to get between them. “Now now now, that is hardly necessary,” she tutted. “She has been such an outstanding guide today. This is hardly how you treat a valued employee.”
The woman turned around and approached Aileesa, resting her gloved hand on the archivist’s cheek. Moments ago Aileesa was fearing for her life, and now she could only concentrate on the woman’s eyes. She looked deeper and deeper, transfixed by the tiny mechanisms silently whirring beneath the irises.
“You’ve done so well today, I had a wonderful time. A top-notch tour, really. All of that walking and talking must have been draining, you’re simply exhausted aren’t you?”
She was exhausted. It really had been a long day.
“And a good job deserves some rest. Why don’t you go home and take the rest of the day off? Relax a little bit, take care of yourself. Maybe call off your next shift and forget about all of the boring things that happened on just another normal tour. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
That did sound nice. She did deserve some time to herself. She felt so tired, the blinding lights of the gallery slowly fading from her peripheral vision until only the violet circles remained.
************************************************************
Aileesa woke up in a cold sweat. She very rarely dreamed, and this was no exception. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she turned to her side to look out the window of her tiny apartment. The day cycle’s first rays of light trickled in through the narrow gap between her building and the one next door. She realized that she never slowed down enough to stop and appreciate it; she was always in a rush to get ready for work or some frivolous errand. As she watched the hues of the simulated morning spread across the blank walls, she felt comforted for the first time in a long, long while.
“Maybe I’ll call off my next shift.”