The Building - Chapter 17: Up the Down Staircase

1 Conversation

Chapter 17: Up the Down Staircase

Ori sitting on the clock pillar.

Ori woke at sunrise, a bit stiff from perching all night atop a pillar. A quick overflight of the city got some of the kinks out. Avoiding the Tower: not only was it beginning to make Ori uneasy but it was giving off a low-level hum that the angel didn't like at all.

Buildings were not supposed to hum.

Also, the Tower's entrances and exits were protected by armed guards. Some of them had crossbows, which looked suspiciously like anti-aircraft weaponry. Ori went back to the pillar in order to maintain an overview of the action and avoid Nimrod's guards.

The sky lightened on the sight of people dressed for travel. Singly and in groups they approached the city gates. On their backs were their portable belongings. Some carried small children. They weren't asking for anything: they weren't trying to negotiate with the Nimrod regime. All they wanted was Out.

The sergeant-at-arms in charge of the main gate came out and spoke to the group there. Ori had very sharp hearing and so picked up 'not here, this gate is closed…go with the guards here, they'll show you the exit…' The instructions got translated from group to group, either by the bilingual or through improvised sign language. Ori saw that this routine and pantomime was being repeated at the other gates. The groups of would-be emigrants obediently followed the men-at-arms to the designated 'exits'.

Which turned out to be the entrances to the Tower.

Ori watched with horror as the guards at the Tower entrances flung open the doors and herded the people inside. Some, realising the deception, tried to turn away – but were forced roughly through the doors with batons and spear handles. There was shouting and dismay, but the soldiers who were armed, burly, organised, and unencumbered by baggage, prevailed.

The guards were aided by Nimrod's supporters in the city – civilians who for some reason were still entranced by their leader's extravagant promises. Ori could tell who they were: the Nimrod fans had tied red cloths around their heads and were clearly visible to each other and from above. They crowded in behind the reluctant others, pushing and shoving to get in the Tower and sweeping the crowd in front through the portals.

'This is a disaster,' moaned Ori. Up to this point, Ori had harboured hope that the Sumerians would simply abandon Babel and its cursed Tower and return to some semblance of normal life. Now it looked as if Nimrod's ridiculous scheme was doomed to run its course. At the very least, the sheer number of people flooding into the unfinished structure would strain its capacity. At worst…there might be Geometry, if what Ori had been told was true.

I hate to ask you to do this, said Prajapati in a regretful voice, but would you mind following them in there? It's really a matter of life and death. Or existence versus entropy.

Ori didn't hesitate. 'You got it!' And with a downward rush of wings, the angel dove for the nearest entrance, over the heads of the struggling crowd and soldiers alike.

The last thing Ori heard before flying through the open doors was a faint call from Prajapati: Stay off the floor!

*******

The inside of the Tower was the most baffling thing Ori had ever seen – and Ori had seen some very baffling things. A wide foyer encircled the entire Tower on the inside. Its high, curved ceiling gave an unhindered view of broad stairways leading from each entrance into the massive stairwell. Theoretically, the stairs led to different storeys where there were apartments, but Ori could see that the apartments were largely unfinished. All the construction effort had gone into this monstrous network of interlocking staircases.

Obeying Prajapati's last instruction, Ori hovered high in the vaulted stairwell. The sight made the angel's eyes water. Even from above it was impossible to sort out exactly where these stairs went. One seemed to dovetail into another, completely fooling the eye.

A confusing staircase.

These were the stairs up which the people were being forced. Scared, panicky people. Wailing and shouting people. Shuddering and trembling people. They were inside now, and they didn't like it. This place inspired nothing in the heart but fear and confusion.

Babies cried. Somewhere in the midst of this moving wall of humanity a dog began to howl. The sound sent shivers down Ori's spine. Even the red-scarfed Nimrod supporters were frightened.

Herded into the building in droves, the crowds by their sheer volume forced those in front of them, albeit unwillingly, forward and upward. But as Ori followed the movement of particular groups, they didn't seem to be making much progress: the staircases twisted and turned and seemed to double back on themselves. It was almost as if…

'They're moving in and out of other dimensions,' said Ori aloud to Prajapati. But Prajapati said nothing. Ori remembered that Prajapati stayed away from the Tower. But it would have been nice to hear a word of encouragement right about now.

The building's hum grew louder and changed pitch. The hum was now so loud that it could easily be heard above the lamentations of the people – who were still marching up, down, and sideways on the maddening stairs because they had nowhere else to go. They wept, and hung on for dear life to their few belongings and their family members, afraid to lose them in the pointlessly moving mass.

A shout made Ori look up – and curse.

'Flatted FIFTH!'

The curse wasn't what made all the people pause and look up. Instead it was the amplified aural assault of a tinny trumpet played by a tiny megalomaniac. In the cavernous stairwell, the squeaky sound reverberated like a Day of Judgement summons from the universe's most niggling accountant. It was Nimrod, of course: he grinned as if he'd just played a horn solo in the greatest symphony in history. He was standing at the very top of the staircase, near the ceiling.

'My people!' the grating voice rained down at them all like a shower of sparks from a mistimed firework – fragmentary and dangerous. 'My people! You are witnessing history!'

For some reason, everyone seemed to understand him, language or no language. Could it be that the Tower has the same translation abilities as I do? wondered Ori. Maybe that was part of what the humming was about.

Nimrod's manic grimace grew wider. 'No! I tell you what! You are witnessing the END of history!'

Ori stared. The people on the staircases stared. The guards, who had followed them inside to push more people around, stared. Even the Nimrod supporters stopped shouting slogans and stared. The end of history? What is he talking about?

The smug little monster was positively beaming. 'Just keep moving, people! You're doing fine. As soon as we reach escape velocity the portal will open – and I, Nimrod the Great, will ascend to the heavens! I will get to the centre of where the real power is! There will be changes, believe you me!'

The dictatorial statement echoed down the stairwell – and there was silence. Even the Nimroddies forgot to cheer. There was a collective catching of breath as it finally dawned on even the dimmest Sumerian that they had been had.

Tricked. Bamboozled. Led around by the nose. Sold a bill of goods, a pig in a poke, a cat in a sack.

A collective howl of outrage went up that filled the stairwell with such cacophony that Ori clapped hands to ears.

'He's been using us! He isn't on our side! We're out of here!' And they turned to go back down the stairs.

This was more easily said than done: no matter which way they started, the fleeing crowds couldn't seem to get any closer to the exits. The stairs seemed perversely designed to keep them going up and bit, down a bit, around a bit, back and forth…it was maddening and futile. The wailing grew louder.

So did the hum in the structure. Now the sound developed overtones, broke into individual notes, formed a chord.

It was not a pleasant chord.

It was, in fact, a flatted fifth. The building began to vibrate.

The vibration reached into Ori's mostly hollow bones. Ori looked up and gasped: the top of the stairwell was swirling. And in the vortex generated by that circling spacetime, a gate was being opened. Just a crack. Slowly.

Nimrod saw it and rushed toward the portal. As far as he was concerned, immortality was within his grasp. He crowed in anticipation of triumph.

'Oh, no, you don't!' said Ori.

Grabbing a loaded crossbow from a startled soldier, Ori swung it upward, aimed, and fired.

Nimrod was caught in the shoulder. 'Wha-?' he grunted in surprise. He fell, head over heels, down the empty space of the stairwell.

At the same moment several other things happened.

The portal closed abruptly, as if a connection had been broken.

The vibration of the Tower increased in frequency. The annoying chord became louder and jumped up an octave.

The confused crowds gazed openmouthed at the plummeting dictator.

And directly in front of Ori, another portal opened. It was the Penthouse Paternoster.

Get in! yelled a voice from inside.

The Tower had begun to warp and change shape, as if the walls were attempting origami on themselves. The sound reached a pitch that could only be heard by dogs and angels.

Below, the dog howled.

Ori jumped into the Paternoster.

Ori unsuccessfully hiding behind the clock pillar.
Post Novella Project 2022/2023 Archive

Dmitri Gheorgheni

13.03.23 Front Page

Back Issue Page


Bookmark on your Personal Space


Conversations About This Entry

Title
Latest Post

Entry

A88021848

Infinite Improbability Drive

Infinite Improbability Drive

Read a random Edited Entry


Disclaimer

h2g2 is created by h2g2's users, who are members of the public. The views expressed are theirs and unless specifically stated are not those of the Not Panicking Ltd. Unlike Edited Entries, Entries have not been checked by an Editor. If you consider any Entry to be in breach of the site's House Rules, please register a complaint. For any other comments, please visit the Feedback page.

Write an Entry

"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a wholly remarkable book. It has been compiled and recompiled many times and under many different editorships. It contains contributions from countless numbers of travellers and researchers."

Write an entry
Read more