After two years aboard Anatali, this was Rochelle's first visit to District H. Calvin said it was something she had to see herself. The streets were clean and safe. Freestanding buildings of glass and alabaster stone towered overhead. While District A lacked continuity and its center, Empyrean, was off-limits, Downtown District H was a marvel of architectural creativity. Stars pinholed the dome's simulated sunset.
A unique tower captured her attention, rising high above its peers. Unthreatened by earthquakes or wind, its designer had taken liberties with its integrity. Widest at top and bottom, seven cylinders twisted a half-mile upward in a spiral, cupping a massive glass globe at their summit.
"Joshua's Spire," Calvin said.
Rochelle paused, taking in a different perspective. "It's beautiful."
"It's the last thing Joshua Driver designed before he died."
"Did he ever get to see it?" Anatali's lead engineer and architect had his name all over the station, but Rochelle knew little about him.
"Nope. He reached Mortality Shock five years ago. He was around when the core was finished, but not long enough to see all this." Calvin stretched his arms and spun mid-stride. "He was a DETH pioneer but ended up a devout Dethist. How's that for irony. He spent his final years trying to cure Mortality Shock."
"If I lasted six hundred years, I'd be ready to move on," Rochelle said.
"I'd be too used to being alive."
They walked in silence for several minutes until she grabbed his arm. "So, CC, where are you taking me?"
"It's funny you ask." He scratched his head and pointed at the spire's sphere. They were in its twilight shadow.
"R-Really! You mean it?"
"Yup. There's a restaurant up there, the best view in Anatali," Calvin said. "I'm glad you're interested. I don't get to do this often."
"Oh, me neither! Leo's idea of a good time is getting drunk at the same three places with his same three buddies." The moment she dropped his name, she wished she hadn't.
Yesterday, Calvin offered to take her on a night out, a reward for enduring a week of captivity. She instantly accepted. He was cute and nice, if a bit uncertain. He made her feel special--unlike her boyfriend. If Leo didn't care if she was there or not, lived or died; she'd explore someone who did.
A gray-suited doorman activated the spire's massive double-doors. Calvin slipped the fellow a bill and offered Rochelle an elbow.
"You're quite the gentleman." Rochelle smiled. She hadn't seen manners since Europa.
"Good parents."
"Holy--you told me to dress smart, but…"
The spire's lobby was decked-out in marble pillars, gilded mirrors and classical sculptures. An interactive directory on the wall presented a layout of the tower's restaurant and its sub-levels, containing twenty-four hour shopping, cinemas and a hotel-casino. Anatali's wealthy wandered the circular hall, sharing space with high rollers and bellhops. Rochelle blushed.
She'd worn her best, though it didn't seem enough. Her sleeveless, forest green gown slinked down to her knees. She'd dusted off open-toed emerald heels and borrowed a top-credit purse from a classmate. The outfit tastefully accentuated her height, hips and chest, just as her styled raven hair highlighted her exotic heritage.
"T-They're staring," Rochelle whispered, hiding behind his arm.
"Of course they are. You're beautiful."
Her pale cheeks flushed again. "You're pretty handsome yourself." He cleaned up well. Black suit and tie. It was as if she were on a real date with a real man--imagine that.
Down a violet carpet, Calvin guided her to the lifts. Brass rails supported dangling velvet ropes. Sunday night, the lines were empty. The lift operator nodded to Calvin, not checking their ID's. Moments later they zipped up the spire's core to the top. Ding—they stepped out.
Rochelle lost her breath.
Night had fallen over District H. The dome's cap faded to black, revealing the eternal night of deep space. Below was a observation deck, but here, midway in the globe, the hemisphere offered an uninterrupted view of their galaxy, their universe. It was as if she could touch every sun.
"Badass." Calvin nodded, hands on his hips.
"Y-Yeah."
"See that one," he moved behind her, pointing to a bright star,"that's home."
The only nights Rochelle had seen were District A and B's. Two years of looking ahead. Here at the station's bottom she could see behind, where she'd come from. Her past, her mom; everything she'd left behind, the innocence she'd lost.
Calvin fumbled for a handkerchief. "Um, shit, sorry."
"It's not that." Rochelle forced a smile, swallowing the emotion before it ruined her makeup. "Thank you…for bringing me here."
He handed her a slip of cotton. "You deserve it."
"God, don't say things like that." She dabbed her eyes.
"Sorry." He laughed. "Let's get a table."
At a reception stand, Calvin chatted with a hostess, a gorgeous brunette in a black three-piece. They seemed familiar, but Rochelle was too preoccupied to eavesdrop. Joshua's Spire's signature restaurant, Eden, sprawled across a massive silver-black floor. She fretted about her skirt until she realized the polish was non-reflective. Platinum rings surrounded wispy white lights, hovering in slow patterns overhead. Tables, booths, sub-chambers and private hollows circled around their central entrance, which connected to a ballroom floor. At even intervals, lift-pillars produced comely servers with trays of steaming, flaming and chilled extravagance.
"Shall we?" Calvin nodded to a far edge, the hostess waiting with menus.
While not crowded, Anatali's finest chatted and dined, oblivious to the wonders above. If something like this ever felt commonplace--Rochelle never wanted to be that spoiled. She glanced at Calvin's eyes, impressed he looked ahead and not at the brunette's perfect legs and rear. Past the tables and booths, they entered a series of walled chambers numbered with bronze placards. Down three stairs, they reached the final ring, set against the globe's glass.
"Not afraid of heights, I hope," he said.
She bit her lip, her heart jumping to her throat. It wasn't fear. Into a private nook, she paused, staring out the glass. District H spread as an endless field of twinkling lights, indistinguishable from the star ocean above. At the horizon, the beach surrounding the district reflected light upon light, a shimmering halo separating the world of men from the heavens.
"I-I never imagined."
"Everyone should get a chance to see this," Calvin said at her side.
"But do they? I never knew."
"It's the way of the world, it all costs something." He turned to the hostess. "Thanks, Tiff. I'll have the usual--Rochelle, a drink?"
Her eyes widened at the wine list. "Um, help?"
"Vodka cranberry, top-shelf."
The hostess tapped their order into a wrist-saddled holo-screen. She blew Calvin a kiss before sauntering out.
"That was friendly." When the shock of the scenery passed, Rochelle snapped back into date-mode.
"What's that?"
"Tiff?"
"It's nothing, I'm sure," Calvin said with an easy smile. "Tiffany shot me down right after Pharis. Nice girl, but I've moved on."
"Good to hear." Pharis and Lillian were bad enough. Some 'top-shelf' starlet would've been too much.
A middle-aged man delivered their drinks and asked if they were ready to order.
Rochelle squinted at the menu. Was it French? German? A blend? "…Uh."
"Don't worry, I got it. " Calvin read off the menu with confidence. Whether he pronounced it right, who knew, but the waiter nodded, adding questions and suggestions. He bowed and left.
"I hope you didn't order me snails."
"Trust me. I got the drink right, didn't I?"
"Yeah, how did you--"
"Halloween. You said you got wasted on Vodka-Cran."
"That's right…trying to get me wasted, CC?" She winked. They shared a bench seat facing outward, over the city.
"You see right through me."
"You don't need to get me drunk. This is only the most romantic place ever."
"I like it, but I've never had company."
"You do now." Rochelle stared into his eyes. He leaned close. Was he making his move?
Thump.
The wall behind them shuddered. Calvin looked away, clearing his throat. "I normally come here to celebrate. I used to play at the casino a bit. Had some good nights."
Damn it.
"Poker?"
"Blackjack," he said, "I did some tournaments in Alaska. It wasn't too bad, besides shaming my family and all."
"How's that?"
"Winslows aren't supposed to gamble. My parents shoved our history down mine and Trent's throats."
"My parents are just happy I'm not in jail." Rochelle looked up to Sol, to home.
"If I had it like that, I'd still be in Anchorage."
"Doing what?"
"I dunno," Calvin said. "Being a hoodlum, picking fights…I'd still be with Pharis. Guess it all worked out."
"You don't miss her?"
"Sure, sometimes—but not like that. We were a bad match. Our families saw it before we did."
"And school?" Rochelle said.
"Means more to me now than it ever did. Guess I'm a late-bloomer, an underachiever."
"D-Do you think it's possible to feel pressure as an overachiever?"
"I'm sure." He paused, watching the sky. "Those who raise the bar collapse under their ambition."
"What's that from?"
"No clue, I probably made it up."
Who was this guy? They'd shared History class all term, but hadn't shared much else besides pleasant conversation and collaborative notes, usually to help Leo. But now that she looked closer—
Thump. Thump.
"The fuck." He banged twice on the wall with an elbow. "Knock it off!"
"What're they doing?" Rochelle said.
"An orgy, I dunno…this ain't that kind of place." He put a knee on the bench. "Don't make me come over there!"
"CC, it's fine."
"I know," he winked, "but a little push goes a long way with rich-types."
"You're too much." She reached for his hand.
"You don't even know—"
Thump. Bang. Crash.
"Ok, now it sounds like a mob hit. Stay put." Calvin stood, walking towards the stairs.
"CC, don't—"
"Shhh, be right back."
He vanished around the corner. Rochelle heard a door slide. After a minute's silence she pressed her ear against the wall.