The Apocalypse Script by Samuel Fort Page B

Renaissance revival style, had probably been
constructed in the 1920’s. All of the building’s terra cotta
trimmed windows were boarded up and the door to main entrance was
merely a reinforced piece of plywood, across which stretched a band
of yellow plastic warning tape.
    Ben stepped out of the car and
proffered his hand. Lilian took it and he gently pulled her
forward. She leaned through the passenger window and said, “I’ll
call for you, Mr. Fetch. Stay nearby.”
    “ Yes, madam,” the driver said, and
pulled away.
    Lilian gently touched Ben’s elbow and said, looking
up at the building, “Welcome to the Ziggurat.”
    “ Hmmm.”
    “ Not impressed?”
    “ Well, no,” admitted
Ben.
    “ This is merely the location being
used this evening. Tomorrow this will again be an abandoned
building.”
    “ How do we get inside?”
    “ We use magic,” she said. She took
off her shawl and waved it in the air theatrically. “Sésame,
ouvre-toi!”
    There was a mechanical click from
behind the door, and a whirring noise. A tiny orange light blinked
twice and the plywood door swung outward in a surprisingly smooth
motion.
    “ See?” she said, grinning.
“Magic!”
    “ Bravo,” said Ben as she took his
hand. “Can you also pull a rabbit from a hat?”
    Lilian led him toward the door.
Beyond it was nothing but an inky blackness.
    “ Better,” she said. “I can put one
in.”
    “ That’s not much of a
trick.”
    She winked at him. “It is when the rabbit
disappears.”

    They stepped past the door and
watched it close behind them. Ben saw a sliver of red light ahead
of them and they began to walk toward it. When they had almost
reached it Lilian moved aside a thick plastic curtain to reveal a
staircase above which dangled an exposed red bulb. They went up
several sets of stairs before emerging onto a broad landing
illuminated by another red bulb. Twenty feet in front of them was a
paneled wooden door with cracked but intact glazing at the top.
Faded yellow lettering on the glass pane read “Administration
Office.” Beneath that was a newly painted edition – a circular
labyrinth a foot in diameter that resembled a fingerprint, the
entrance at the bottom. It was similar to the one on the doors of
Steepleguard, except that this version had elven circuits instead
of five.
    Next to the door stood a human
figure.
    “ The guard,” whispered Lilian,
putting her arm around Ben’s waist and ushering him
forward.
    As they approached, Ben saw that
the figure was a man dressed in a metallic skirt composed of rows
of overlapping gold plates, like the scales of a fish. His muscular
chest was bare except for a gold broad collar. On his head was a
tall, elongated bronze helmet decorated by rows of turquoise beads.
Four metallic wings had been affixed to his back, in the shape of
an X, like the wings of a dragonfly. A thick, black, and
intricately woven beard fell to his chest, where it was cut
horizontally. In each hand the guard held a bronze weapon that
looked like a massive fork but with three tongs at both top and
bottom.
    Ben leaned over and whispered, “I’m sure he’s a
tough customer but those metal wings and skirt are going to be a
real problem if gets into a fight.”
    Lilian replied, “Oh, he’s mostly
ceremonial. Like the single Marine guard at the door to the White
House. Besides,” she teased, “he has a big gun inside that skirt of
his.”
    “ A
big… oh. Lilian, that’s not very ladylike.”
    “ No, seriously, it’s a requirement
for the job.”
    “ Lilian!”
    “ I’ve seen him use it.”
    Ben moaned. “Enough!”
    The two stopped in front of the
guard and Ben saw the man tighten his grip on the two weapons in
his hands, as if readying them. The former Marine removed his arm
from around Lilian, suddenly alert. Lilian, however, was completely
at ease, as if the guard were merely a teenager responsible for
taking movie tickets.
    She said, “Vos es migdu Lilitu sef Sarganu, Mutu vil Benzira,