25

Another Puzzle

"A good puzzle, it's a fair thing. Nobody is lying. It's very clear, and the problem depends just on you." – Erno Rubik

To my relief, the elevator went up to the fourth floor this time—no plummeting involved. The doors slid open, and I stepped into the hall. It wasn't too different from the third floor, at least in regard to color schemes and door arrangement. It felt different, though; not in a tangible way, but more in the ambiance it gave off. This floor was creepy in a whole different way.

I had no idea where to begin now that I was on my desired floor—I didn't exactly keep schematics of all the latest evil lairs inside my backpack. So I just wandered around the halls, listening for anything that might endanger my life or turn out to be one of my missing comrades. After a while it became a bit of a weary habit, wandering aimlessly as I start trying door after door to see if there's an unlocked room. There wasn't.

It was who knows how long before I realized I was lost. After seemingly endless wandering, I had tried to go back to the elevator, only to find that I couldn't. It was strange; I hadn't made that many turns, and surely the hallway looped back eventually. But it didn't, or at least it didn't seem to. Even my natural sense of direction was fuddled.

"It seems you let yourself fall asleep again, Max," the Doctor's voice chimed, filling the halls.

My blood boiled. "How are you even here?"

"I have my ways," the Doctor chuckled, "my technological resources reach farther than even Mr. Batchelder knows."

"Where am I?" I asked. Maybe if he was feeling cocky, he'd give something away.

"Bodily, you're still standing in the elevator, on your way up to fifth floor," he explained, "In your mind, however, you are right here."

"And where is that?"

"That is what you must deduce. Where are you, and how will you get out?"

Man, I really wanted to clobber that guy. "Great, I'm trapped in one giant mental puzzle." I had always hated being confined in body, but being trapped in my head was a new level of intrusion and imprisonment—not even my mental stability was guaranteed anymore. It was like the red letters had said: I couldn't trust my eyes. However, I knew I couldn't just sit around and wait for someone to wake me up; I would not be kept hostage inside my own mind.

I tried to think things through carefully, searching for a flaw in the Doctor's labyrinth dream world. All the doors were locked and too solid to break down, and there was no elevator. On top of that, the roof was too low and the hall too narrow for wings (though at least my wings seemed to be working this time).

Wait a minute... Suddenly I got an idea. I looked back up at the roof, and realized that it wasn't solid—it was made of those flimsy foamy panels that you can easily push out of the way. I couldn't fly out of here, but I could still go up.

I raised myself onto my tiptoes and reached for the roof panel above me. I could just barely touch it. I jumped up and down a few times, bumping the panel until I pushed it far enough out of the way to leave a reasonable gap. So far, so good. Then, I backed up several yards to get a running start. I sprinted forward as fast as I could, taking a running leap at the edge of the gap. I felt the measly frame holding the panels up slowly bend as I hung from it, so I quickly struggled to pull myself up into the roof. It was tricky trying to distribute my weight over the frame without falling through a tile, but it held. Now what was I supposed to do?

Keep going up, the Voice suggested. I guess not even the Doctor could keep the Voice out of my head.

I looked around at the cramped dark space. How?

Just then I felt the frame beneath me vibrate, and I heard a low rumble. At first I thought that the roof was about to collapse beneath me, when I realized what was happening. The elevator! I don't know how, but the elevator was still there, even though I couldn't see it. Judging by the vibrations I was feeling, it wasn't too far away.

Carefully I began to crawl forward, checking every step before I took it. The rumbling came in regular intervals, every few minutes, as if someone was actually around to use it. It kept getting stronger and stronger, until finally there was a paneled wall right in front of me. The vibrations started again and I pressed my hands against the wall. Yup, the elevator shaft was definitely behind this panel.

Thinking back, I wonder if elevator shafts are actually built the way they were in my mind—I was able to kick that panel out with my foot, which makes me question the structure's overall stability. Still, I wasn't about to complain; solid walls were much harder to penetrate, and I had yet to develop laser vision.

I peered into the shaft, glancing up and down to spot out the elevator. Right now, it was several floors below me. "Alright Max," I told myself, "just wait until the elevator comes back up and then hop on." A few seconds later, the elevator began to rise again, and I braced myself. Closer...closer...jump! I fell about five feet, landing on my hands and feet. The elevator lurched under the sudden weight put upon it, and as I struggled to keep my balance I became aware of a dangerous-looking set of churning gears in the center of the elevator roof. I definitely wanted to avoid getting caught in those. Once I was certain I wasn't going to lose my balance, I looked up and saw how high we had risen already. I wondered which floor we were going to.

After a few more floors I was suspicious. Why weren't we stopping? I could see the top of the shaft now, and I was worried. I still remembered my near-squishing from last time. As the space continued to get smaller, I thought to myself, this guy really likes toying with my claustrophobia.

I immediately sprang into action; I grabbed the elevator cable and began climbing upwards, looking for some way out. The elevator moved too quickly for me to pry any of the level doors open, and I couldn't reach them from the cable. There wasn't even enough room between the elevator and the shaft side to jump down. That left one option, the suggestion the Voice gave me: keep going up.

I reached the top of the shaft, and just as I had been hoping there was an emergency escape hatch, which was about three feet wide and was held closed with a simple latch. Unfortunately, I couldn't get at it from where I was hanging—I would have to wait until the elevator caught up with me. Once it was close enough, I lowered myself down onto the elevator roof again, and I waited until I was at a height where I could reach the latch. The space got smaller and smaller as I struggled to open the emergency hatch—the latch was a bit stiff. I was down on my knees by the time I got the hatch open, and I struggled to position myself directly under the opening so that I could open it as I was pushed upwards.

Unfortunately, my pant leg got stuck in those pesky gears, leaving my leg twisted to the side and ready to be squished. I popped open the hatch and let my head and arms stick out, and then I braced myself and try to yank my pant leg out. It started tearing as I pulled, but my jeans were quite thick, so the going was slow. The elevator kept rising, and my leg was lifted up at an awkward angle which made it harder to pull. I was sticking out of the hatch from the thighs up now, and there was only a few inches of space left for my leg. Why were tight squeezes becoming a habit nowadays? My pant leg finally tore where it was caught, and I yanked my leg through the hatch. The space closed up, leaving me sitting in the indented square that was once the open hatch. Yet another close call.

Just then I looked up and realized where I was. I was on the roof! Quickly I stood up, surveying the horizon. My hair blew in the wind as I looked over all the different buildings and houses on the island, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Open spaces didn't get much bigger than this—it was a nice contrast from the cramped confines of the complex.

Suddenly I was tired of fighting, tired of running from the dangers around me. At that moment I felt pressed, as if something was pushing down on me. I had to let go, at that moment, I had to give up and give in some way—and I knew just how I would. I stepped up onto the edge of the roof and spread out my wings as wide as I could make them go. I smiled contentedly to myself, and then I jumped, happy to dive-bomb through the air without a care in the world.