THE THEORY OF GIANTS
Dishevelled, panicky, and out of breath, Charlie ran into the lobby of the Tachycardia Tower. The lobby was large and filled with people, but no one even noticed him. Dishevelled, panicky, and out of breath was how pretty much everyone entered the Tachycardia Tower. Charlie went shoulder-first through the crowd to the elevator. The Up button was already lit. Charlie pushed it several more times. He waited impatiently. His brain tried to make itself useful by reading the company directory, and Charlie noticed a company name that he recognized: Sarzanello Systems, with offices residing on the sixty-seventh floor.
Before arriving in Metaphoria, Charlie had never read or heard the word Sarzanello. He still didn’t know what it meant. But this was the third time in less than thirty minutes he’d encountered it. This, Charlie surmised, must be metaphoric. The elevator arrived. Charlie got in. Thirteen other people did as well. He did not press the button for the ninety-ninth floor. He pressed the button for the sixty-seventh.
At the sixty-seventh floor, Charlie was the only one who got out. A red velvet carpet ran the length of the hallway. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. At the far end of the corridor stood a Giant. The Giant looked uncomfortable. His arms were crossed and he was hunched over to prevent his head from scraping against the three-metre ceiling. He was dressed in a black tuxedo with a bright red bow tie, which, judging from the way he kept pulling on his sleeves and adjusting his pants, were not the clothes he would have picked out for himself.
‘I have an appointment,’ Charlie said.
The Giant bent down to tie his shoe. Charlie, thinking he was safe, failed to pay attention, which is why he did not see the Giant pull a knife from his sock. The knife was long. The blade was serrated. The handle was pearl. Although it looked tiny in the Giant’s hand, it was quite threatening when held against Charlie’s throat. Charlie swallowed, which pushed his skin against the blade. A drop of blood slid down the edge of the knife and fell onto the carpet, where it left a heart-shaped stain.
‘What were you before Metaphoria?’ Charlie whispered. ‘Director of Public Relations? CEO? Head of Acquisitions?’
‘I ran a consulting firm that worked mainly with the federal government.’
‘Advised world leaders? Pulled strings behind the scenes? Held the real reins of power?’
‘All of those things.’
‘You were a big man and now that you’re forced to live here, in Metaphoria, they’ve reduced you to this. To being nothing more than a big man. That doesn’t seem fair to me. Does it seem fair to you?’
‘I didn’t get it the worst.’
‘You got it worse than me. And I was cog. An office drone. Did what I was told. People like you paid people like me to walk their dogs. Why don’t you do something about it?’
The blade pressed a little harder against Charlie’s throat. Charlie held his breath. The smallest amount of pressure was all it would take. And yet the Giant didn’t push the knife forward. It’s true that he didn’t take the knife away, but he didn’t add any more pressure either.
‘What are you suggesting?’
‘Walk away?’
‘What would that do?’
‘I have no idea. But you don’t either. If you were to walk away from this, this moment, pressing this knife against this throat, Metaphoria would reward you. Or punish you. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even poof! But what else can you do? Maybe I’m misguided, but it’s hard for me to believe you’re gonna trigger an epiphany while standing at the end of a hallway doing someone else’s dirty work.’
Although imperceptible to anyone whose throat it wasn’t held against, the Giant reduced the pressure he applied with the knife. Then he puffed out a breath of air and turned his head slightly to the right.
‘Whatever happens, you know as well as I do that if you drop the knife and leave this building, a whole new set of circumstances will open up for you. Maybe better. Maybe worse. But unlike this. If you change yourself, Metaphoria will change around you. You know I’m right.’
‘I think …’
‘What? What do you think?’
‘I think that’s true of back home too.’
‘I agree.’
‘It’s just easier to see it here.’
The Giant continued to hold the knife against Charlie’s throat. However, his eyes shifted focus. The knife fell to the carpet. The smell of burning cedar filled the air and the purple smoke was thick …
Poof!