Page 3 of Now Until Forever
“Mr. Williamson will be our new head of security, beginning today. I’m sure you two need to get acquainted, so there will be some time today for you to do that. Perhaps over lunch. However, I have an assignment for you, Ms. Adams.”
Hold up.
Tony, as he’d introduced himself, studied her. “Lunch sounds good. I need some help getting the lay of the land. This place has a lot of floors.”
“I’m sorry.” Eliana turned to the director. “Did you say he’s the new head of security?”
“Given his prior experience, Mr. Williamson is the right fit for the position.” Sylvia looked at Eliana over the rims of her reading glasses. “The vault can’t be overseen by just anyone. It needs to be someone with history.”
As if Eliana didn’t have that? Or it washerhistory that was entirely the problem.
These people had offered her the job—why do that and deny her advancement? It was like showing her an envelope with answers and not allowing her to open it.
Sylvia didn’t seem bothered by any of it, she just sat there with that placid expression on her face. “Whatever you’re thinking, best not to say it, Ms. Adams. We don’t need any insinuation thatDominatusoperatives are still out there. Or that there’s some conspiracy to restart things.” The director shuffled papers on her desk. “We’re having enough issues with those protestors you decided to tangle with outside.”
Eliana resisted the urge to glance at the window that overlooked the street out front. “I didn’t?—”
Tony cut her off. “I’ll need a uniform, Director.”
“Among other things.” Eliana indicated her security badge.
Sylvia glanced up at Tony. “I’ll have the desk attendant take you to Personnel to do the paperwork.”
“And the assignment you have for me?” Eliana asked.
The director nodded. “Doctor Splitfield never clocked out last night. I need you to locate him if he’s here and have him correct this oversight.”
Eliana was pretty sure Personnel could figure that out when they made Tony’s security badge. Still the chance to walk around the museum would help burn off the disappointment and frustration. “No problem. I’ll find Doctor Splitfield.” She headed for the door.
Tony said, “I would like to have that lunch, Ms. Adams.”
She turned back and noticed a tattoo on the inside of his left forearm she hadn’t seen before. A bear etched into his skin.
She figured he could tell some interesting stories. “Meet me in the cafeteria at one.”
He nodded.
“Director.” Eliana nodded to her boss. Or her boss’s boss. Whatever.
It was fine.
She let the door swing shut behind her. So much for having access to the vault. Instead of her, it would be Tony Williamson’s job. She would never see the logbooks, electronic records, or anything elseDominatuscreated that had been deemed too dangerous for public view.
She kept to the employee wing of the museum, moving through back halls where a century or two of records were kept. Meticulous accounts of cutting-edge—and morally questionable—research projects, or master plans constructed by all manner of madmen looking to take over the world.
Just like the AI crisis, it had been about controlling people. Telling a version of the truth and passing it off as honesty. Meanwhile, the deception shaped reality into something of their making.
As far as she could tell,Dominatushad been as insidious as the artificial intelligence that wormed its way into every devicein the world, and AI had been the primary weapon in the Cyber Cold War that followed. Until world governments fought back, the internet was siloed by geography, and access became controlled. AI programs were shuttered or deleted entirely, ushering in a new era where a lot of people opted to live without the internet.
The door to Doctor Splitfield’s office was closed but not locked. She turned the gold-brushed knob and eased it open slowly. Some of the older scientists didn’t like being disturbed when they were in the middle of an in-depth research study.
She looked around. Whatever Splitfield’s area of expertise was, it looked to be something in the field of reptiles. Maybe paleontology.
“Shrine Security!” she called out. “Doctor Splitfield, are you in here?”
She heard no answer and shut the door behind her. Splitfield’s office was bigger than her whole apartment. Rows of bookshelves taller than she was gave the far end a library-like appearance. No science lab here. His field involved books and diagrams. He appeared to be restoring a figure drawing depicting a human female reproductive system from more than a hundred years ago, now badly worn by time and the environment.
She wandered between stacks toward a wooden table and two chairs at the far end of the room, upon which a tray had been set.
