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The Dome
Nicola Bonin
The elevator appeared endless. It rose high above the space modules
suspended above the ground floor ceiling of The Centre. The incline
was sharp, an incredible slope. The smell of antiseptic was strong, as
I listened to the whirrs, jolts and clanks of The Centre’s machinery.
To the right of the escalator lay a small, narrow winding staircase.
‘The double helix’ it was called. It was for the janitor’s use only.
Mr Tobor stood seven feet tall in the lobby of The Centre. Not
only was he imposing, but athletic too. Perfectly sculpted, as any Iron
Man would be. His gaze pierced the hearts of all women. He was by
far the most intelligent navigator in The Centre, and very capable
too. Not all Iron Men were like Mr Tobor though. Many did not live
longer than a year. Some were incapable of performing the simplest
of tasks. And there were those who went rogue, and lived in the
Wilde, never heard of or seen again.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to travel up the
escalator in The Centre. Everyone common worked in the offices on
the ground floor. Those working for EyeCorp were granted access to
the elevator and levels one to six. But only The Centre’s finest
navigators were able to access level seven. Inferiors weren’t even
accepted in the building, unless of course they were a janitor, like me.
Mr Tobor had been around for almost a year now. I would always
listen for the Director’s booming laugh echoing around the lobby.
That is how I knew when Mr Tobor was in. He would often tell the
funniest jokes or make the wittiest remarks, funny enough to have
the Director in hysterics. He was so smart for an Iron Man of one
year, so quick too, almost human, but better.
His first launch was in less than a month. I watched, for weeks, all
navigators tested mentally and physically, even emotionally, for the
chance to prove they were worthy of being a part of the launch. But
how could they compete with Mr Tobor? He wasn’t built to feel,
only to know and to do. The Director announced the selected few to
be a part of the launch soon after the testing. Of course Mr Tobor
wasn’t the only navigator chosen, but there were few humans
who were.
Times were changing. I could tell. There were often moments
where I overheard snippets of private conversations. The Direction
was always hushed when he spoke of Iron Men. I knew he was
disturbed by the number of Inferiors massing outside the boundaries
of The Centre, but I never thought any action would be taken.
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