Legion Of Rockstars

I walked confidently towards the elevator, figuring I had a good grasp on this elevator-as-main-mode-of-transportation deal, but Amy slid her arm around my elbow and pulled me away from the elevator, leading me instead further down the hallway.

“You’re elevator racist!” I protested, wondering how the elevator liked being discriminated against. All elevators were the same to me. They went up. They went down. They were never empty, and there was always a chance they’d get upset and allow you to die.

“No, of course not,” Amy answered quickly. “Those elevators don’t lead to the directors’ offices. There’s only one that does that. It only goes from this floor to the directors’ floor, and that’s it. There are no stops in between or anything. Just a straight shot.”

“Why is that?” I asked curiously as we turned at the end of the hallway and walked a few more feet before reaching the polished silver doors of yet another elevator.

“It’s for speed and efficiency,” Amy explained, pushing the up button on the elevator panel. “If the elevator stopped all the time, no one would ever get to the top. And this elevator goes faster than the other ones. The directors like their privacy as well.”

The doors slid open a few moments later, and we stepped simultaneously into the elevator. The doors slid shut almost instantly, and within seconds we were ascending smoothly upward.

“Headquarters is located inside the mountain,” Amy said to break the awkward silence; no music played in this elevator. “It’s impossible to get into headquarters unless you’re a LOR agent. The directors’ offices are towards the top of the mountain, about sixty to seventy stories up from the ground. There’s a spectacular view from their offices.”

The doors slid open, and Amy and I stepped out into a lush lobby area. Two rows of chairs set back to back sat in the center of the room on the lush chocolate brown carpet. Several paintings decorated the cream-colored walls. Across from the elevator was a bank of windows that reached all the way across the wall and from the floor to the ceiling. I could see for miles and miles the lush forest surrounding the mountain.

“The windows are reinforced with steel,” Amy explained, walking over to the window and rapping on it gently with her knuckles. “They are practically impossible to penetrate. I watched them being tested once; it’s amazing what they deflect. The testers even tried to drive a tank through it: the glass didn’t budge an inch. Ever seen a tank with its runners spinning without the tank moving at all before? I have.”

“Sounds safe,” I commented, tapping the glass as well. Even just touching it, it felt stronger and thicker. I made the correct assumption that this was the same glass used in the lounge area.

“Oh, it is,” Amy agreed, backing away from the window. “But come on. The directors don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Amy walked over to one of the two doors leading out of the lobby. I quickly followed her, standing slightly behind her as she knocked on the door.

“Come in,” an oddly familiar female voice called from the other side. Amy turned and grinned at me before gently pushing the door open.