fountains, arcades, shining pink and turquoise towers of iridescent stone-hard plastic. Great exhibit halls offered art treasures from every province of Kalgash, industrial displays, the latest scientific marvels. Wherever he looked there was something unusual and beautiful to engage his eye. Thousands of people,perhaps hundreds of thousands, strolled its glittering, elegant boulevards and avenues.
Sheerin had always heard that the Jonglor Centennial Exposition was one of the marvels of the world, and he saw now that it was true. To be able to visit it was a rare privilege. It was open only once every hundred years, for a three-year run, to commemorate the anniversary of the city’s founding—and this, Jonglor’s Fifth Centennial Exposition, was said to be the greatest of all. Indeed he felt sudden buoyant excitement, such as he had not known in a long while, as he traveled through its well-manicured grounds. He hoped that he’d have some time later in the week to explore it on his own.
But his mood changed abruptly as the car swung around the perimeter of the Exposition and brought them to an entrance in back that led to the amusement area. Here, just as Kelaritan had said, great sections were roped off; and sullen crowds peered across the ropes in obvious annoyance as Cubello, Kelaritan, and Varitta 312 led him toward the Tunnel of Mystery. Sheerin could hear them muttering angrily, a low harsh growling that he found unsettling and even a little intimidating.
He realized that the lawyer had told the truth: these people were angry because the Tunnel was closed.
They’re jealous, Sheerin thought in wonder. They know we’re going to the Tunnel, and
they
want to go too. Despite everything that’s happened there.
“We can go in this way,” Varitta said.
The facade of the Tunnel was an enormous pyramidal structure, tapering away at the sides in an eerie, dizzying perspective. In the center of it was a huge six-sided entrance gate, dramatically outlined in scarlet and gold. Bars had been drawn across it. Varitta produced a key and unlocked a small door to the left of the facade, and they stepped through.
Inside, everything seemed much more ordinary. Sheerin saw a series of metal railings no doubt designed to contain the lines of people waiting to board the ride. Beyond that was a platform much like that in any railway station, with a string of small open cars waiting there. And beyond that—
Darkness.
Cubello said, “If you don’t mind signing this first, please, Doctor—”
Sheerin stared at the paper the lawyer had handed him. It was full of words, blurred, dancing about.
“What is this?”
“A release. The standard form.”
“Yes. Of course.” Airily Sheerin scrawled his name without even trying to read the paper.
You are not afraid
, he told himself.
You fear nothing at all.
Varitta 312 put a small device in his hand. “An abort switch,” she explained. “The full ride lasts fifteen minutes, but you just have to press this green panel here as soon as you’ve been inside long enough to have learned what you need to know—or in case you begin to feel uncomfortable—and lights will come on. Your car will go quickly to the far end of the Tunnel and circle back to the station.”
“Thank you,” Sheerin said. “I doubt that I’ll need it.”
“But you should have it. Just in case.”
“It’s my plan to experience the ride to the fullest,” he told her, enjoying his own pomposity.
But there was such a thing as foolhardiness, he reminded himself. He didn’t intend to use the abort switch, but it was probably unwise not to take it.
Just in case.
He stepped out on the platform. Kelaritan and Cubello were looking at him in an all too transparent way. He could practically hear them thinking,
This fat old fool is going to turn to jelly in there.
Well, let them think it.
Varitta had disappeared. No doubt she had gone to turn on the Tunnel mechanism.
Yes: there she was now, in a control
Maurizio de Giovanni, Antony Shugaar