Everly Tertium entered the building for the first time two days after meeting Dr. Richard Dubose in the park by her house. Her grandfather. Two days after meeting her grandfather in the park, and being told that she had a grandfather, and being told that an inexplicable building existed not two miles from where she had lived all her life.
She was struck first upon entering the Eschatorologic by a low hum that seemed to rise out of the floor, resonating with every step she took into the lobby. A lobby that was possibly the most expansive room she had ever stepped foot in. Or at least, she supposed it was a lobby. Standing there in the entranceway, it felt more like a ballroom, with its domed ceiling that sported a chandelier the size of a small elephant, glittering so high above that she had to crane her neck to see it. Large wooden benches with intricately carved designs were pressed back against the walls on either side of the glass doors that Everly had pushed through, and marble tiles lined the floor, leading up to a large desk in the middle of the cavernous room.
There was a woman behind the desk. She sat rod-straight, with her eyes facing forward, not reacting at all to Everly’s entrance. Cautiously, Everly began to walk across the lobby toward her.
The woman was striking, with carefully carved features set into golden-brown skin and silky dark hair that hung in loose waves around her shoulders. Her exceptional beauty was almost entirely overshadowed by her clothes, however, which were abhorrently bland (beige on beige on beige). The beautifully beige woman still didn’t acknowledge Everly or even so much as blink, really, so Everly cleared her throat and waited.
Still no response. “Excuse me,” Everly tried. “I’m here to visit”—a beat of hesitation—“my grandfather. Maybe you know him?”
The woman didn’t move. Chills ran up Everly’s spine watching this woman who was so still she could have almost been a statue if it weren’t for the slight rise and fall of her chest. It was unnerving; Everly wondered if something might be wrong with the woman.
“His name is Richard Dubose,” Everly pressed on. “He told me to meet him here?”
The woman gave no indication at all that she had heard Everly. At a loss for what to do, Everly looked around the rest of the lobby, searching for some sign that Richard had been there, that she was in the right place. Off on the side, against the far wall, she spotted an elevator that she hadn’t noticed before. Maybe I can find him, she thought.
Abandoning the woman and her desk, Everly walked toward the elevator. Halfway across the lobby, though, her feet stalled in place, her mind jarred by that uncanny feeling from before, from so many times before.
The déjà vu, if that’s what it should be called.
The sense of reliving.
Of doing over.
Of experiencing a dream that she’d already had, again and again.
She had been here before. She had stood in this lobby before, talked to that woman behind that desk before, strode toward this elevator before. She had ridden in this elevator, up and down (down?), she had been here with Richard before, she had done it all. Before.
Blink blink blink and no she hadn’t. Of course she hadn’t. Everly put a hand up against her head, shaking it slightly. Why would she think she had?
Except this time it didn’t immediately clear away like it usually did. Rather, the feeling of redoing felt stronger with every passing moment that she stood in the lobby. The harder she tried to focus on the feeling, the more abstract her thoughts and supposed memories began to feel.
She was old and young and a stranger and a friend and important and insignificant and everything and nothing all at once. None of the flashes lined up smoothly or made sense at all, but they pressed in against her, more and more insistent.
A small gasp escaped Everly’s lips as she clenched her eyes shut and tried to push it all away, to steady herself. But the harder she tried, the harder the intrusive thoughts fought to overwhelm her. Or so it seemed. They were building, growing, spreading, overtaking. They were—
The elevator’s ding cut through everything in Everly’s mind, and she used that distraction to pull herself back to her present, to the place she was now.
The Eschatorologic. She was in the lobby of the Eschatorologic.
Blink blink blink blink.
Everly’s eyes slowly came back into focus and, shaking away the rest of her unease over whatever that had been, she glanced up at the opening elevator doors in time to see a man stepping into the lobby.
He was easily the tallest man Everly had ever beheld, and she couldn’t help but stare at him, her mouth agape. He made the lofty ceiling seem a reasonable height by comparison. The man then caught sight of Everly, who had taken a few steps back toward the woman’s desk, and he walked up to her. As he approached, Everly took in the details of his appearance. He seemed to be around middle age—mid- to late thirties, if she had to guess. He had pale skin and equally pale hair that had been shaved with military precision, framing a kind, boyish face, and he wore red scrubs that hung loosely off his gangly form.
The man glanced back and forth between Everly and the woman at the desk, a question on his face. “Is there something I can help with here?” he asked.
And just like that, Everly remembered why she was in that lobby at all, why she had been headed toward the elevator before the man had arrived in it himself. “Y-yes,” she said, voice wobbling slightly. “I’m trying to find my grandfather. He works here, and I was just about to go look for him upstairs.” She pointed weakly at the elevator doors, and the man glanced back that way.
He lifted his brows, studying Everly. “What did you say your name was?”
“Everly. Everly Tertium.”
The man’s face immediately cleared. “You’re Richard’s granddaughter, then,” he said, declaring more than asking. Everly managed a small nod in response. “He said you might be coming by,” the man went on. “And you said you were going to go upstairs?”
Everly nodded again, feeling small next to the man’s looming height, but she was somewhat comforted by the fact that he knew who Richard was. At least she was in the right place.
“Well, I’m afraid that probably won’t work out too well for you just yet,” the man said. “The elevator, that is. But not to worry, I know how to fix that.”
“What do you mean?” Everly asked, following the man as he retreated toward the elevator. “What wouldn’t work?”
“Well,” the man said, pulling a small device from one of his pockets and fiddling with it, “there’s a facial recognition software programmed into the elevators. Assuming this is your first visit to the building, you won’t be in the system yet, so the elevator won’t let you move through the building.”
“So, it’s basically a program to keep people from breaking in?”
“Something like that. Now,” the man said as the device began to light up in his hand. “This should do the trick. Say cheese.”
Everly only had time to turn in the general direction of the object before a blinding flash went off.
“Got it,” the man said. He then pulled a short cord from another of the overly large pockets in his uniform and proceeded to push the elevator button. It opened for him, and he stepped inside, placing his foot out to stop the doors from closing behind him. “All we have to do now is attach this to the elevator’s control panel.” Everly watched as he plugged one end of the cord into the device, the other into a slit below the elevator. “We upload you into the facial recognition program, and then you should be good to go.”
Everly saw the man frown slightly. “What?” she asked, trying to see what he was doing.
“It looks like you’ve already been programmed in. Odd. Your gramps must have done it before you got here.” For a moment, the man stared at the paneling inside the elevator. Then, his eyes lifted to Everly’s face, and she saw—or thought she saw—them widen, ever so slightly. Thought she saw his mouth making a soft sound, an oh. But then, she thought she must have imagined that, because he shook his head and grinned up at her from his crouch on the ground. “Well, at any rate, you are now free to use the elevator.”
“Thanks,” Everly said, smiling back at the man as he stood up.
“No problem.” He slipped the device back into his pocket, and then held out his hand. “I’m Jamie, by the way. Jamie Griffith.”
Everly took his hand and shook it. “Thank you, Jamie,” she said.
“Anytime,” he said brightly, stepping back out of the elevator. “It is my job, after all.”
“Wait,” Everly said, putting a hand out to stop the elevator doors from closing. “What is this place, anyway?”
Jamie cocked his head, a strange smile on his boyish face. “Don’t you know?”
“Not really. I was told to come, that’s all.”
“Well, who am I to ruin the mystery, then?” Jamie said, backing away from the elevator. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Tertium.”
Everly frowned at the doors as they closed, then her eyes slid over to the wall of buttons. The building, it seemed, went up one hundred floors, and Richard could have been on any one of them.
There were also two basement floors, she noticed, but it looked like those levels required a key to access, so she just had to hope that he wasn’t down there.
She didn’t have any good options; Richard really could be anywhere. Everly decided to start at the bottom, and hope she’d either stumble into him, or into someone else who could help her navigate the Eschatorologic. And in the meantime, maybe she could try to learn something about this building. So Everly pushed the button for the second floor and held her breath as the elevator began to hum gently, going up.
When the doors slid open again a few moments later, the first thing Everly took in was gray.
Gray walls. Gray floors. Gray doors that lined the single hallway on either side directly across from the elevator, going back, back, back, morphing into an endless expanse of nothing.
Everly stared at the gray hallway and had no idea where to begin. Before she could think too much about all the gray doors and what might lie behind them, one of the doors near her opened, and a man dressed in red stepped out.
He was so different without the tweed, the coat, the hat. Nonetheless, it was definitely him, dressed in identical red scrubs to Jamie.
Richard Dubose. Her grandfather.
The man she was looking for.
It was almost too easy, Everly knew. One hundred (and two) floors, and she found him within five minutes of entering the building? It was almost like he’d known where she’d go, or like he’d known she’d show up today, of all the days.
Everly shook her head, trying to clear it as she waited for Richard to catch sight of her. As he turned toward the elevator, he halted, confusion turning to delight as his face lit up.
“Everly,” he said, walking swiftly toward her. “You’re here!” He stopped in front of her, brows furrowing again. “But how did you get up?”
Everly blinked, trying to clear away the disorientation that had followed her since she entered the building. “There was a man,” she said. “Downstairs. He said his name was Jamie. He programmed the elevator to let me ride in it. But,” she said, thinking back, “Jamie told me that I had already been programmed in. He thought that maybe you had done it.”
Richard’s smile faded slightly. “Right. No, no, I didn’t think to do that earlier. But Jamie is a bright man. He is the primary software engineer in the Eschatorologic. I mentioned to him that I might need him to help me with that very thing at some point today, when you got here. But you’re here early!”
He said that as if she’d agreed to come today, but Everly herself hadn’t been sure until the night before. Her brows drew together as she studied the man in front of her, weighing the merit of all the questions that bubbled beneath the surface.
“Richard—” she started.
“You can call me Grandpa. If you want.”
Everly stared at the man. Was that what she wanted? All her life, she’d dreamed of what it’d be like to have more family. Aunts and uncles, cousins, siblings. Grandparents. And here it was, an offer for something that could almost be seen as a hand reaching out, ushering her into a family she’d never known.
Yet, that voice was still in the back of her head, telling her something was wrong here. Telling her not to trust Dr. Richard Dubose.
“What is this place?” she asked instead, the same question she’d asked Jamie, hoping now for a more straightforward answer.
“Why, it’s a building,” was Richard’s response.
Everly bit her lip in frustration. “Well, yes, but what kind of building? Why did you bring me here?”
“I suppose the easiest answer would be to say that this place is my life’s work, the culmination of years’ worth of research and study. More than anything, however, this is a building full of people, some of whom I would very much like to introduce you to today, if you’d care to join me?”
He lifted an arm, gesturing toward the long, gray hallway beyond where they stood.
She wanted to ask so much. Why now, after all these years? What had kept him away, why hadn’t she ever heard anything about him?
She also wanted to ask about her mother. It had been dangling around the back recesses of her mind since that day at the park, though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself—didn’t want to admit that she had been drawn here, to this building in part by the base desire to hear Richard talk about her mom. This man had known her mother—and no one knew Everly’s mother. But how do you ask someone you barely know what might be the most important questions of your life?
Before she was given the chance to formulate the right words, Richard cleared his throat. “Come,” he said to Everly, already walking away. “I have someone I want you to meet.” He gestured again to one of the gray doors down the hall—not the first door, but the second in a long string of tightly shut doors—and Everly, deciding questions could come later, followed as he walked over, and then paused, in front of the indicated door.
“A woman lives here—a woman who has gone through a great deal in her life. Her name is Lois,” he said without conviction, “and she has been in this building for a long time, nearly as long as I have. Be careful with her. Her mind is fragile these days.”
Not knowing what to say, Everly simply nodded, wondering why Richard wanted her to meet this woman, whoever she was.
Richard pushed open the gray door and stepped inside. Following him, Everly found herself in a very small, sparsely furnished gray apartment.
The space seemed to consist of three rooms: a cramped bedroom that Everly could see behind a partially opened door to her right; a meager kitchenette in the corner with only a microwave, a stove with two burners, and a mini fridge balanced precariously on the countertop; and a sparse living room that consisted of nothing but four blank walls surrounding a single gray couch, on which sat a very old woman.
Everly supposed this was Lois. She looked to be about her grandfather’s age, but her eyes read as being far more ancient. When she saw Everly and Richard enter the room, Lois struggled a bit to sit up straighter. She was outfitted in scrubs that were nearly identical to those worn by Jamie and Richard, except that hers were a very bland shade of gray.
Her hair was completely white, and her eyes were a cataract-coated blue that momentarily caught Everly off guard as they looked at her. Pierced her. A shiver shot unbidden through Everly, and she swallowed thickly before following Richard over to the woman’s side.
“Good morning, Lois,” Richard said, his voice bright and cheery. “How are you doing today?”
Lois didn’t seem to hear him. Her focus was still caught on Everly, eerie in her unwavering intensity. Richard gestured for Everly to move closer, offering an encouraging smile.
“Lois, I want you to meet my granddaughter. This is Everly.”
Everly offered the woman a weak smile, lifting a single hand in greeting. “Hi,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”
The woman started blinking rapidly, and her breathing became ragged. “You,” she said in a thin, shaky voice. “You . . . you’re . . .” She trailed off, blinking faster still. Blink blink blink. “What did you say your name was again?”
Everly gulped, rubbing her hands over the gooseflesh that had risen on her arms. “I’m Everly,” she said softly. “Everly Tertium. I’m Richard’s granddaughter.” She gestured to Richard, hoping that might help.
The woman’s gaze cleared ever so slightly, and then her eyes widened, her face bleached suddenly of all color.
“You,” she said uneasily. “You’re—you’re not supposed to be here.” She met Everly’s eyes, her expression pained. “It’s not your time.”
“I—” Everly took a step back, suddenly afraid of the elderly woman in front of her, unsure what was happening or why she felt so wrong.
Richard hurried forward and sat down on the gray couch beside Lois, gently touching her shoulder. “Lois,” he said calmly. “Lois, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
Lois was still shaking, but she turned to look at Richard, leaning her slight frame into his and sobbing uncontrollably.
“Richard, oh Richard,” she gasped between sobs. “I thought, I thought . . .”
“I know, Lois. It’s going to be okay. I promise.” Richard turned his head up suddenly. “Everly, go look in the cabinet over the sink in the kitchen. You should find a small bottle of pills. Bring it here, please, as well as a glass of water. Quickly,” he said as she hesitated, and Everly rushed over to the cabinet he had indicated, hastily finding the pills and bringing them back. Richard took the bottle and shook out a pill, offering it up to Lois, who obediently swallowed the medicine. She immediately began to settle down, not crying anymore but still leaning into Richard’s shoulder. As she tilted her head down, eyes closed, Everly thought she glimpsed a thin, silvery line running up the back of Lois’s neck, disappearing into her sparse, white hair, but before Everly could look too closely, Lois shifted, sinking deeper into Richard’s side as she fell asleep.
Easing Lois onto the opposite cushion, Richard extricated himself from her grip and edged off the couch. He stood up and walked slowly over to Everly. Then, he signaled for them to leave the apartment and went back out into the gray hallway. After closing Lois’s door, Richard turned around to face Everly, wearing a weary smile. He leaned against the wall next to the door, looking older than he probably was for the first time since Everly had met him. She waited for him to speak, to explain what had just happened. He looked up at her with tired eyes but managed a smile.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That—Lois is a woman who is very easily distressed, and who has lived through her fair share of difficulties. I didn’t expect the intensity of her reaction, and I am sorry if she scared you.”
“She didn’t scare me,” Everly said, thinking back on what had happened. “More unsettled, I guess. What made her so upset? Did I do something wrong?”
“Wrong?” Richard shook his head. “No, not wrong. None of that was your fault, not at all. But I needed you to meet her, and her you, before I could begin to explain . . . anything else.” He sighed deeply, looking down. Despite his apparent exhaustion, however, Everly sensed an undercurrent of energy in his posture that she was struggling to reconcile with their interaction with Lois moments before.
“Okay,” Everly said slowly. “So, explain. Why did you bring me here? What is this place?”
Richard met her eyes, and there it was again: that strange energy pulsing through him. “I need you to know that Lois is a very dear friend of mine. I’ve known her since the beginning of all of this. But she is only a fraction, the smallest piece of anything here. And she was only the beginning.”
“What do you mean?” Everly pressed. “The beginning of what?”
“Everly,” Richard said, “the people here are special. My work here is special. It’s all connected, and I promise that someday this will all make sense. What you need to know right now is that you are an important part of this.”
“Me?” Everly asked, dumbfounded and barely able to follow Richard’s frenzied whispers. “What do I have to do with anything?”
“Everything,” Richard said, then shook his head. “I promise you, this will all make sense eventually. For right now, what I need you to understand is that Lois is only one of many people who are kept here in this building.”
The word he used—kept—snagged in Everly’s mind. Like they were possessions or pets owned by someone. She stared at Richard, trying desperately to understand.
“Why are they here?”
“They’re here to change the world.”
But Everly didn’t hear her grandfather’s response. Her mind had fallen backward again—or forward, so hard to tell. Standing in front of Richard—of a man who looked an awful lot like Richard, only with brown hair instead of gray, only with no wrinkles or age spots, only with brighter eyes. Standing in that building. Or a building an awful lot like that building—only with no people in gray apartments and no woman sitting frozen behind a front desk and no scientists with wide smiles and fancy gadgets.
Everly blinked and she fell further, further, further.
Blink blink blink blink blink.