The Variables

She had a right to be jealous, didn’t she? She had a right to be upset about the secrets Cass kept. But she didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. No one whose guidance and counsel she could seek.

Holding Grant’s letter, Lucy slipped out into the main tower of Kymberlin and stood where the party had been the night before. The space was now clean and empty, and it boasted a woman in a blue pantsuit with a button that said New Arrival Liaison. Ask me about your day! A young couple with a weepy toddler stood at her table. The woman pointed toward the elevator and then leaned down, holding out a sticker to the boy, who snatched it tentatively.

As the family walked away, Lucy walked up.

“Good morning,” Lucy said, her voice dry. She swallowed and cleared her throat. She was wearing the same dress from yesterday. It felt itchy against her skin. “Good morning,” she tried again.

“Good morning, Miss King,” the woman replied. “May I direct you to a specific location this morning?”

Lucy stood there, her hands dangling by her sides, and she tilted her head. “Oh,” she said, taken aback. “I just—” she brought her hand up over her neck again. Her eyes sca

“Of course,” the liaison said. “May I recommend floors one through five? The museum of North American artifacts is quiet interesting. Or, of course, there’s always the library. And if you need anything, Lucy, please don’t hesitate to come back.” Without missing a beat, the woman turned her attention to a man standing behind Lucy. “Ohayou gozaimasu, Tanabe-san. May I help you find your way?” The man spoke in Japanese and the woman bowed and made murmurs of understanding; Lucy shook her head, confused, and began to walk backwards, but she stumbled when she hit someone walking behind her. Hot liquid traveled down her back and she shrieked, spi

“This is brand new,” Gordy chastised, looking at Lucy and the mess with disdain. He snapped his fingers toward the liaison, and she pushed a button on her table and nodded at him with a smile.

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy said, and she bent down to the spill. Digging in her bag, Lucy felt a hot flush in her cheeks, and she tried to eke out another apology, but it came out mangled. “I have...maybe...some...” she stammered. Lucy pulled out a t-shirt, her last remaining clean clothes, tossed it on to the coffee, and rubbed the stain with flustered vigor.

“Stop, stop,” Gordy said, pushing her hands away. “Don’t grind it in.” He tossed the t-shirt back to her—a stain had formed under the armpit and across the right arm. Besides her sundress and her Kymberlin sweat suit, that t-shirt and a pair of jeans were the only clothes she owned. She hoped that their ocean view home had a washing machine. She doubted it. “Stand up.” Lucy obeyed.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, looking down.

“You’re a mess,” Gordy replied.

“Like always? Or just right now?”

The question made him pause and offer her a hint of a smile. He motioned to the stain, “I overreacted. It’s nothing. Just a spill. Tatiana will get someone up here to clean it up...but you...your shirt.”

“I’m fine. It’s fine.” Lucy shoved the t-shirt back into her bag and began to walk away toward the main elevator. The coffee-soaked dress clung to her back and felt lukewarm against her skin. She pushed the button and the glass elevator greeted her, and when she stepped inside, she saw Gordy sneak in right behind her. She shoved herself into the corner, and busied herself looking down at the floors of shops and signs below.

“Do you just want me to choose?” Gordy asked and Lucy looked at him.

It was the first time she had ever really looked at the man who saved her life back in the System. He had gray hair around the temples, and a soft baby-face that belied his actual age. Gordy had to be closer in age to her father, but he seemed younger, less tired. His skin was shiny and clean, the begi

Still, there was something unsettling about Huck’s son. While he had been the one to pull Lucy from the tanks, she had always felt like that had been to save Blair, not her.

“I’m sorry?” Lucy said, confused.

“The floor. Do you want me to choose the floor?” Gordy asked, his hand hovering over the buttons.

Before she had time to answer, Gordy pushed the button that read LL, and the doors shut with a definitive click. The elevator began to descend. Through the windows, Lucy could see everything—the other elevators shifting around the floors, the open expanse of shops and offices. The entire city was located within the first tower of Kymberlin. It was a bustling metropolis of commerce (which Lucy didn’t understand, yet. If she wanted to buy a new shirt, how would she pay for it?) and government. They moved quickly, like Charlie Bucket’s fast-moving ride through the sky, except their elevator was plummeting; although, Lucy could concede that both Wonka and Gordy shared a strangeness: both exuded a calculated air of eccentricity coupled with an arbitrary set of rules.

“Where are we going?” Lucy asked. She scooted herself even further into the corner and wondered if her toothbrush could be used as a weapon.

Gordy smiled. “The lower level, Lucy.”

She looked down. Beneath them was the glass floor of the tower, and underneath that: the ocean. The elevator was not slowing down, not stopping. They risked crashing into the glass and plummeting into the cold, icy waters of the Atlantic. Except they didn’t. The cylindrical box dropped them down past the floor, and instead of people, shops, and government offices, now Lucy was staring out at the ever-darkening waters of the sea.

When they stopped and the doors opened, Lucy gazed at the hallway stretching out before her, and she looked at Gordy.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to travel down creepy hallways under the ocean with strangers,” Lucy said. She pressed herself further back against the glass.

“Come on,” Gordy said. “I don’t bite.”

“That’s up for debate,” Lucy replied quickly. His face shifted, softened--it was vaguely feline in nature, as though Lucy was nothing more than a toy to bat at.

Extending his hand, which Lucy ignored, Gordy tried again. “My dad built this place. It’s called the Remembering Room. I think you should see it, and then you can be on your way. Go up to the 6th floor for a massage or the 40th to visit the library. Take an aptitude test and apply for a job. You’ll settle in here, Lucy. No doubt.” He exited the elevator, and then he turned back to wait for her disembark.

But Lucy pushed the close button several times and willed the door to shut faster.

“No thanks,” she mumbled, not wanting to appear too rude. “I have...a plan...a date. I’m meeting someone.” The door shut and Gordy disappeared. Without another plan, Lucy pushed the button for the 40th floor and shuddered.

She didn’t trust him. Couldn’t trust him. But he made himself so likeable, so engaging. He spoke to her like she mattered, like he knew her, and like he cared for her wellbeing. It was a trait he had inherited from his father. And it made him very, very dangerous.