remember way back when, in the old days, i said that each chapter would be really short
happy birthday guys
No. 6
In the late summer of 1972, Adrian takes me to Karnak, his Antarctic retreat. The plane ride there is exhausting and I feel nauseous the entire time, but thankfully I don't throw up.
When morning arrives – well, technically it was nearly always light at the south pole – Adrian wakes me up from my position curled up on the bed in the spacious bedroom of the plane. We walk into the cabin, and outside I can already see the blue-white sheet of glaciers in the far distance and a pale brown dot on its edge.
"That's Karnak, over there."
"Wow." As we fly closer and closer, the complex materializes into an immensely tall trapezoidal main building, its back facing us, and several rows of small pyramid-shaped fortifications and two tall obelisks. "Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair," I find myself whispering in the silence.
Adrian turns to me, eyebrows raised, and I laugh, burying my face in my hands. "Come on, dude. I wasn't too shabby at ancient river civilizations back at Northshore. I kind of forgot the rest of the poem, though. Besides. You built all of this?"
"Yes, almost three years of work."
The flight attendant – a young woman who's spent the better half of the flight glaring daggers at me whenever Adrian's back was turned – comes over and tells us to buckle up for the landing. I sit down and slide the key into the buckle, pulling the seatbelt tight as the jet descends. My ears pop a little and the familiar nausea returns as the jet curves, slowly spiraling down towards Karnak. I don't realize I'm clutching white-knuckled at the armrests until Adrian reaches over and carefully takes my hand from the cream leather, rubbing his thumb across my inner palm.
The landing itself is uneventful; I breathe out sharply as the landing gear hits the strip and we are safe on solid ground – or ice – once more. As we stand, I wobble a little, my stomach clenching from the sudden change in position, and Adrian grabs my shoulder. I wink sarcastically at the stewardess as we pass; albeit awkwardly because I still felt like I was about to throw up.
As the steps deploy from the entrance of the jet, I notice two fuzzy figures – three; the last one was a purple-red blob sitting in between the two – in a tall window at the front face of the building. Adrian smiles at the servants, raising a hand, and they wave back from behind the glass. Here, he looks more carefree; for him it was probably similar to the feeling of returning home. I bundle myself up in the heavy winter coat as we exit the jet, walking across the landing pad towards the main entrance. Snow and ice crunches under our feet, and I wiggle my nose, feeling the cold air rushing into my lungs.
Two servants greet us once we're inside in the main foyer. "Greetings, Miss Grayson. Welcome to Karnak. Mr. Veidt, would you like to change?"
Adrian shakes his head as a man pulls off our coats and leaves for a closet. "It won't be necessary right now. I will give her a tour first. Jackson, would you get a cup of ginger tea for Lena?"
"Of course, sir." The servants depart as quickly as they'd arrived.
"Come, Lena. I'll show you around."
The first time I see Bubastis we're standing on the opposite ends of a large hall. The polished marble floors reflect the image I'm seeing – a monstrous and graceful giant lynx, fur a strange bright burgundy, her tail swaying from side to side.
"Relax, darling. She doesn't bite." As he walks towards Bubastis, I hear him say something that sounded suspiciously like 'unless I've told her to.' I shiver – and it's not from the cold – as I follow him.
Bubastis stares at me, her round, golden eyes strangely transfixing. Adrian extends a hand and she sniffs him, before growling playfully and butting her forehead up against his palm.
"Orrrrrrrrrr?" She purrs.
"Just be…careful with her. She can probably tell you aren't a stranger to me, from your scent, but all the same, don't let her think you're a threat."
Bubastis falls down on the floor, still purring as Adrian scratches under her chin. I smile, kneeling down beside them and very gently petting the soft collar of fur around her throat. Her head turns to me, great yellow eyes staring at my face. A large pink tongue comes out and she licks at her own nose, blinking.
"She's beautiful." I smile as Bubastis's eyes scan my body and as she looks back up at me, her toes wiggle, her claws sheathing. Up close, she has a certain – silliness and adorable quality, and my smile widens as Adrian strokes her long ears and she blinks slowly. "Did you…did you make her?"
"Yes. About fifteen years ago, she was created here at Karnak." His tone is fond, and I realize that Bubastis may have been his only friend for a long time. "She was tiny when she first came out of the testing chambers, if you can imagine."
The attendant – Jackson – arrives with the tea, and I take it from him, whispering a word of thanks as I sip at the spicy sweetness, my queasiness nearly gone. Bubastis follows us when Adrian stands and says that he needs to show me something he's been working on. We pass multiple rooms with high vaulted ceilings, filled with objects from complex computer arrays and tables covered in schematics to almost museum-like halls with artefacts from ancient Rome and Egypt.
At the end of a hallway, a large circular blast door stops us in our path. As we wait, Bubastis swats at a strand of my hair, her tail swishing from side to side, and I giggle. Adrian types a code into a keypad beside the door and interlocking panels of steel slide open to reveal the central atrium.
He leads the way through the black granite and I walk behind, my footsteps slowing as I look around in awe. To one side of us, on a raised pedestal, is a wall filled with at least fifty-something television sets, all turned off. A fine golden chair and small table are atop the pedestal; our warped reflection shines back at us from the convex screens as we pass by. A dining table is set out on the other side of the grand room. Above us, wintry light – somehow cold even as the entire facility has heating – shines in from huge glass ceilings.
And to our front is the main attraction of the room – at the top of a limestone staircase, a four or five-meter tall black stone bust of Ramses II, stares forward, his gaze dead-eyed, lips curved into something strangely complacent. On either side of the stairs rests two tall columns, etched with strange symbols and leaf-shaped designs.
I turn to him, amazed and at the same time amused. "Wow. You didn't steal these, did you?"
He rolls his eyes, but I can tell he's secretly pleased at how impressed I was. "Let's keep going, shall we?"
A laugh escapes me and I shake my head. Bubastis trots over beside me. "I'm gonna call you Bubs," I whisper secretively. She makes a noise and licks at her paw.
After exiting the main room and moving through more passageways, we're greeted by the sight of several scientists and researchers rushing around in a state-of-the-art lab. Adrian clears his throat and a man – probably the head scientist – stops his movements, standing straight. "Sir."
"Is the suit ready for use?"
"Yes, of course, sir." He turns to me and smiles a little awkwardly. "The lady may come and test it out."
I look at Adrian, and he nods. "Go ahead. I must feed Bubastis."
The scientist, who I later know as Dr. Carlston, leads me into a glass-walled room. In it there stands a mannequin and a table beside it. "You may try it on, Miss. I will wait outside in case any adjustments are needed. The windows will become opaque as needed." He exits through the doorway and the glass turns ashy-gray.
I walk forward, carefully resting my hands on the suit on the mannequin. The cloth is amazingly crafted – padded biofoam and carbon fiber casing on the outside. I rap my knuckles against it and am surprised at how durable-sounding it is. The uniform itself is the color of snow, with gray paneling and black accents wrapping around the torso in hard strips, probably to protect my ribs and stomach. The legs of the suit are pretty much the same, and on the floor is a pair of lightweight boots.
I take my outer clothes off and carefully slide the suit on. It molds to my body and feels warm and comfortable. The suit itself has a belt with several pouches and a row of buttons on it, and when I press the first one, the color of the suit darkens to a charcoal-grey. My gloved hands skim up and down the strong-yet-thin fabric covering my legs.
Damn. This is some rad shit.
I walk over to the brushed-steel table. On it rests a matte dark grey (motorcycle?) helmet and a pair of gloves. The glass of the helmet is glossy and clear, and on its side there's a backlit black colored dial with various settings. On either side above the glass are two large white stars. I tie my hair up and pick up the helmet. It slips lightly over my head and the glass darkens, becoming entirely opaque. And then soft white light flares up within the helmet, and, to my shock, words appear on the inner screen.
Welcome, MADELINE GRAYSON. This helmet has been designed for your maximum safety and protection. It contains night vision capabilities as well as headlights with adjustable brightness. This helmet will lock on automatically to your suit. The viewing glass turns dark when worn, and clears when it is not in use. There is a com link system embedded into the side and already has your contacts listed within.
Thank you for choosing Veidt Enterprises today.
The message ends there and I turn, seeing an amazingly clear view of the room. I touch the button on the right side jaw of the helmet, wondering what it'd do; light flares up inside the room. From the reflection on the wall I can see that the stars have lit up – they are the headlights. I raise my eyebrows. Shit. This must have cost thousands.
"Um, excuse me, Dr. Carlston?"
The man steps back into the room. "Is it to your liking? Mr. Veidt insisted that your safety was paramount, and thus we added all the latest advancements in protective gear."
"Yeah, um, thank you. Uh, would you happen to know where Adrian is?"
"Mr. Veidt asked to join you in the Ramses hall. I would suggest you wear the suit for a bit longer, just to test out walking and other various movements."
"Um. Okay."
When he realizes that I don't really know the way to the hall, he smiles. "My apologies. Head down this hallway, take a left and keep walking. At the end of that hall take another right and the hall will be in front of you."
The main hall seems creepier without Adrian here, and I shiver a little as I take the helmet off, setting it on the side of the stairs. From this angle, I see there's a dark plaque under the giant bust, engraved with gold writing. I walk up the stairs, curious, my footsteps echoing off the walls.
"My name is Ozymandias…King of kings-"
His voice is smooth and commanding, flowing carefully over the words of Percy Bysshe Shelley.
"Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair."
I can't help but stare at his costume when he turns the corner into the main atrium. Adrian looks godlike, his already well-defined frame somehow made into something beyond man. And despite how I've seen him like this before, in the bright lighting he looks so much more – right, here and now.
He smiles at me but there's something strange and warm in his eyes that sends a jolt through my mind, especially when I realize that here in Karnak it's his territory and his…home, where he has total control. He tugs his gloves on a little more securely and I swallow as I watch the flexing movement of his biceps. I realize I look like an idiot; standing with my mouth gaping open and wanting to jump his bones right then and there when I had intended to come and talk to him about why he made an entire damn suit for me.
Bubastis pads over, butting her head against my waist and I rub at her ears, grateful for the distraction.
"How is the suit feeling?" Adrian asks me, and I nearly jump, my cheeks burning. His eyes are boring into mine, and although this isn't the first time he's looked at me in…that way, this is very much so the first time that it feels so real.
"It's… It's very good." My heart is racing a mile a minute as he takes a step up the stairs, and then another. The laurel on his head catches the pale sunlight casting through the ceiling, flaring white in my eyes.
And now he's close enough that I can almost feel the heat of his body – though I know very well that I can't possibly feel warmth through two layers of biofoam, Kevlar, and open air. Close enough that I can make out the minute details – the burnished gold of his arm bracers and gauntlets, the smooth color of his armor that had looked purple but I now see as a mix between purple and burgundy.
Close enough that I can see how his pupils are dilated, only a thin rim of warm-cold steel blue remaining.
"I couldn't quite get good measurements," he whispers softly, hand reaching up to gently grasp at my side. The darkness of his eyes – it feels good and it feels so wrong, and I'm completely drawing a blank as to what to do.
"Adrian…What are you…" My voice squeaks in the tense air as I try to find the right words. "I don't…um..."
He immediately drops his hand and looks away, almost hurt. "I'm sorry. I've been too forward."
I feel a wave of shame fill me at his almost and probably unintentional puppy dog eyes.
"Adrian. Please. When I – when I said that I loved you, I meant it." A breathless chuckle escapes me, and I look back up at him. "We're…our relationship is a little weird. I mean, like, we've slept in the same bed but never slept together, if you know what I mean, and we've, um, kissed but not really? And to be honest, I'm a little scared, because…you're you, and I'm me."
I realize I'm babbling and I sigh again, reaching up to rub at my forehead. "And you…I know what you said, that day. That I was…enough. But sometimes I don't know – like, I've done some terrible shit, and I don't want you to make the wrong decis-"
"Madeline." Adrian is smiling kindly, his gloved hands coming up to settle on my shoulders. "I…I don't know how to say this without…sounding dramatic. But you must know that you – Lena, you are so kind. You are…brighter than anyone I've met in this city. You are honest and brave and beautiful in all your imperfections. You must know that you're the reason why I – " he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and my skin tingles.
"Since I met you, you're the reason why I've chosen to keep fighting. Because there's goodness and innocence that must be protected out there.
"We don't have to go fast, darling. And this…this doesn't change anything. This isn't the ending of anything. Just the start."
My eyes close as he leans in. His nose brushes against mine, and I swear I can almost feel him smile.
"Whoops."
His lips are soft and tender when we finally kiss.
"Are you sure you're not violating some kinda Veidt Enterprises shareholders agreement or other bureaucratic stuff?"
"Hmm?"
"You took money and made a superhero suit for me, dude."
"Okay, no, yes, I see what you mean, dear."
"…"
"Just think about it this way. I took money…to give you a protective uniform…to keep other people safe. So…mmm, it's a win-win."
"You didn't think this out before, did you?"
"Shhh, no one has to know, my love."
"Are you just gonna kiss me every time you want me to stop talking?"
"…Maybe."