Stepping out of Arian’s apartment building into the artificially cooled night air of the dome, Ansley felt the effects of the alcohol. The inebriation served to relieve him of the burdens he had lived with for well over fifty years. Along with the false relaxation came a false sense of confidence, and the old Professor decided he would have a few more drinks at Eduardo’s place, the Devonshire, before heading down to the casino. Having left his hawk at home to avoid being tracked to Arian’s, he walked a few blocks to the corner of a random avenue and pulled his qubit from his pocket.
“Esther.”
“Yes, Professor,” answered the monotonous voice of a mature woman.
“Call me a cab.”
“Right away, Professor.”
It was less than two minutes before the automated transport locked onto his qubit and arrived at the corner. Stepping into the vehicle, he spoke his final destination aloud and set off on the transportation grid toward the Devonshire Pub. Ansley watched the city fly past as he sat reflecting on his conversation with Arian. He knew he was getting the kid in over his head. None involved could fathom just how far he was planning to go, not the Overseers and not Tiberius. In his drunken haze, Ansley allowed himself a moment to gloat. He was, after all, the greatest scientific mind in the world, and if his plans came to fruition, all players in the game would become obsolete and Padma would be avenged.
His thoughts turned dark as he reflected on the loss of Padma. She had not been beautiful, but was sweet, smart, and quirky, three traits that made her more than exquisite. He needed a distraction to take his mind off her. These reflections never yielded any good and often led to flashbacks and nightmares of that hellish night. Arriving at the Devonshire, he couldn’t exit the cab fast enough as he bounded toward the bar, seeking another soothing drink. He slammed his hand down on the counter, announcing his arrival.
“Eduardo, you beautiful man, give me a double agave on the rocks, please.”
The barman knew Ansley was drunk from experience and could tell from his false bravado that he was in one of his moods. Without a word, he poured the drink, sitting it in front of the old Professor, who drained the glass in one swig and held it out for more. Still silent, Eduardo obliged, only this time, he caught Ansley’s eye and motioned with his head toward the end of the bar. Following the motion, he looked over and noticed Anabelle seated alone, sipping a glass of wine and staring back at him coldly.
“Make that two, Eddie. I’ve got a girl to talk to.”
Ansley walked over to the woman, engulfing her in a long embrace.
“I’ve missed you,” he lied.
“You aren’t good at calling, are you?” she asked. “You smell like a fucking brewery.”
“I’m afraid I have over-imbibed, my dear, but my smell I cannot help.” Anabelle was beautiful and Ansley wanted her, if only to ease the pain he was feeling inside, but he knew not to indulge his desires. He had been down that road before and beautiful and unstable was never a healthy combination. But then again… she was pretty, and a night with company might be long overdue.
“Here’s your drink, Professor… and one for the lady.”
“Thank you, Eduardo, Anabelle always looks better after a few drinks.”
Anabelle smacked him hard on his left shoulder. He began to recall why she annoyed him.
“You’re an asshole,” she said in mock anger, sliding his drink toward him while picking up her own. She drained it in one swallow, the stain of agave still fresh on her lips. Ansley mimicked her action, allowing himself to feel the liquor burn all the way down his throat and esophagus. Without warning Anabelle grabbed the breast of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. As she released his black shirt, she gripped his bottom lip with her teeth, biting softly. He could taste the sweetness of the agave on her lips. Hesitating, he took a step back, considering his next move. Padma she was not, but Ansley needed someone tonight. Anabelle would do. In spite of his age, his nano- treatments made him strong, and he grabbed her around her narrow hips, lifting her from her seat and throwing her aggressively against the wall, kissing her. Ansley didn’t often succumb to moments of weakness but, drunk and tired, he deserved a reprieve from the problems of the world.
“Excuse me, Professor! Excuse me! You can’t do that here,” Eduardo repeated in the background. Annoyed, Ansley kept his gaze on Anabelle, replying instead to her.
“Let’s get out of here, honey, and head to friendlier confines. Put them on my tab, Eduardo,” he said as he grabbed her hand and led her out the door, leaving the barman standing puzzled.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he opened the door.
“Let’s go gamble, sweetheart,” he replied. “I know how you love the action.”
“I assumed the friendlier confines would be your bedroom. You know I can be a very good friend.”
“In time, my dear. A few thousand more credits on my qubit always increases my appetites.”
“Then by all means, we should go to the casino. I want you to be hungry.”
The night was spinning out of control. Ansley and Anabelle stumbled down the street, arms interlocked. While it didn’t feel right, it did feel nice. It was freeing to let go of his burdens and allow the night to take him where it did. It felt good to not care.
The casino was only a few blocks from the Devonshire Pub, and as they rounded the corner, the flashing lights of the entrance came into view down the street. Ansley picked up the pace, forcing Anabelle to follow suit. His heart was pumping as the adrenalin coursed through his body. The few moments before he entered the casino were the only times Ansley ever noticed his heartbeat.
“I’m getting excited ba…”
A violent flash broke through the night.
Bodies were thrown through the air with hellish force. Charred flesh smoldered, falling off the bones of fresh-made corpses. All sound was gone except for a persistent ringing. Stumbling, his body was numb. Palms finding pavement, he steadied himself, eyes open, yet only seeing the white light burned into his retinas. Choking on black smoke and reaching for her hand, his hearing returned, and the sound of the afflicted was horrendous. Explosions in the distance punctuated the crash of falling marble. Feeling around the immediate area for her body, his hand found hers, and the ash that had been her flesh fell from bone. Following the path from her hand to her chest, he felt no movement. Blinking rapidly to restore vision, the white light faded and was replaced by a bald, blackened face.
The familiar vision left his mind and Ansley regained his bearings, finding reality just as grim. Their bodies had been thrown backward five feet. Ears ringing, Ansley stumbled to his feet and searched the ground for Anabelle, shaking with apprehension. He found her a few feet to his left, struggling to regain her footing. Rushing over to her, he grabbed her by her arms, helping to steady her.
“Are you okay?” he thought he said, although it didn’t register in his ears. Her mouth moved, but the sound escaped him. He pulled her into the brick face of the storefront and held her, attempting to regain composure.
As the ringing in his ears subsided, he looked down the street toward what had been the casino, but was now a ruin of fire and ash. Thick black smoke poured out of the front before being sucked down into the dome’s filtration system. Bodies and gore littered the street. The air was filled with the pungent odor of cooked meat. His hearing now returned, he spoke to Anabelle.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I think so,” she responded, visibly shaken. Leaning against the wall, she sank to the ground. “How can this be happening again?” she muttered.
“I’ve got to go help,” Ansley responded, ignoring her question and looking around the storefront. He ran toward a clothing store two doors away. Finding it closed, he kicked in the glass door, adding yet another alarm to the myriad of chaotic sounds on the street. Clearing out the glass, he hurried through the opening, grabbing the first piece of linen garment he found. Holding it over his mouth and nose, he bounded back out the door toward what was left of the casino.
Coming to the smoldering ruin, Ansley heard the cries of the injured and dying as they writhed in pain. The fire bathed the area in a hellish orange. Holding the linen over his mouth, he searched the ruins, looking for a way to help. The fire response team had yet to arrive, but many of the local constables of the pub district were attempting to quarantine the area and restore order. Looking into the now open front of the casino, Ansley saw the full scope of the explosion. The entire second floor and the marble staircases leading to it had collapsed to the ground. Rubble filled the lobby. Searching, Ansley found a familiar doorman, who despite a gaping wound in his shoulder seemed otherwise coherent.
“Santiago, where is Sharie?” The man stared ahead, unresponsive. Grabbing him by the collar and shaking him into cognition, he again demanded, “Santiago, where is Sharie!” Santiago lifted his trembling arm and pointed into the inferno.
“Damn,” the Professor whispered before rushing inside. The heat was intense, but bearable, as most of the tinder for the fire was on the perimeter of the building. Water poured from the sprinkler systems above, warmed by the heat of the flames, yet still cool by comparison to the air temperature. Rushing through the atrium and dodging the rubble, he veered right toward the high limit poker rooms.
The arched entrance was partially collapsed and, stepping over a ruined column, his eyes fell upon a room full of smoldering bodies, some in Imperial robes, some in the garb of the Institute, but most were dressed in the common clothing of the Natural Born. Running to the hostess area, he lifted the shattered podium, dropping it at first as the wood burned his hands. Being prepared this time, he quickly threw the podium aside to reveal the body of a woman he had once known as Doris.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” he thought as he moved past her, searching for his friend. He found her a few feet away.
Sharie was almost beyond recognition. Large chunks of burned skin, hair, and flesh were intertwined and hung loosely from her face. Her right eye socket was caved in and the eye was gone. He had to read her plastic nametag to be sure of her identity. Ansley put his ear to her mouth and nose and heard sharp, shallow breaths. She was dying, but was still alive. Placing the linen cloth over her face, he swept her tiny frame into his arms and rushed back over the ruined column toward the street. The smoke was affecting him, making him woozy, though he pressed on. Rushing out of the inferno and back to the open air, he felt her stir in his arms. Ansley laid her on the cobbled street, oblivious to the chaos going on around him.
“Sharie. Honey, it’s Ansley. I’m here. I’m so sorry.”
She opened her remaining eye, fixing it upon his face. He cradled her head in his arms, comforting her, tears streaming down his face. Sharie lifted her arm to her chest and pulled a gold locket from the remains of her shirt. Clicking a button on the back, a flash drive ejected from the bottom. Ansley grabbed it, placing it into his front pocket as he continued to cradle her.
“My family,” she whispered. “Please keep them. Please keep them safe.”
“Always, Sharie,” he muttered back. “I will make sure they are taken care of.”
And for the second time in the long life of Ansley Brightmore, a burned woman died in his arms. He remained in the street, amongst the ruins and the bodies, clutching her for some time. It could have been five minutes or it could have been an hour. He would never be able to say. He was stirred from his mourning by the commotion of the arriving emergency crews.
Looking back down at the dead woman still in his arms, Ansley kissed her softly on her forehead and whispered, “I swear to keep your family safe.” Gently laying her head on the pavement, he took a deep breath, stood, and walked away from the scene. It would be better if he weren’t around when the authorities began asking questions. Walking back the way he came, he felt dazed, unable to comprehend what had occurred, and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to anyway. Right now, all he wanted was to hold the pain at arm’s length. As he came to the storefront where Anabelle still stood, she grabbed his arm, attempting to stop him.
“Ansley, honey, are you alright? What happened?”
“Go home, Anabelle,” he replied. This night was over.