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He summoned the elevator while slipping into cross trainers. About to hop up the few steps out of the sunken lounge, Harlan paused in thought, recalling something then stood before the large TV again. He called up the security footage from the previous evening in the auditorium.
Smiling, he watched as Tory snapped pictures of the auditorium’s architecture, then dashed up the stairs to catch the elevator. She was simply stunning, and he wished he could get to know her better – in the carnal sense, of course – but he knew that would be inappropriate.
He went down the Recreation Center above the studios and office space, passing the swimming pool and entering the gym. Exercise usually helped clear his head and channel his stress. Harlan worked out with weights for twenty minutes, then spent another forty running on an elliptical machine while watching the news before sitting down to his work.
After an hour of studying the variations Trace had explored, Harlan stood up and stretched. The stretch begat a yawn. Once again, he called upon the smart TV to bring up the security footage of Tory in the Auditorium. Harlan told the TV to pause the frame as she held up her phone to take a picture.
“I think she likes it,” he remarked to the TV.
The distinct audio dead space that preceded the AI’s response extended beyond its typical span as if it had no idea what to say to that.
Chapter 6
After getting off the phone with her mother, Tory sat down glumly on her bed at the W. News of the Pandemic was everywhere. Her mother wanted her home immediately.
The scope of the outbreak in New York horrified her. Having just spent two days amongst New Yorkers worried Tory as well. The idea of bringing the virus home to her parents and grandmother sprang at her intermittently as she considered her options.
Browsing for travel through the night, she found that so many flights and trains were booked, as people were leaving the city in fear. Sirens could be heard in the distance as she tossed and turned then watched the news, alternately, throughout the night.
At check-out, she was numb with the anticlimactic turn of events. On the street getting into the Uber car to carry her to the AirTrain, Toby saw the first swaths of people on the street wearing masks over their noses and mouths, making the reality of the pandemic start to seem frightening and apocalyptic. When she noticed that the Uber driver had on a mask and gloves, she wondered what she’d face at the airport.
As she began to review the more positive moments of the past few days in her mind, the driver turned up the news so loud it was obvious that he meant for her to hear it before speaking. The broadcast reiterated the reports of travel restrictions and flight cancelations affecting people leaving the city.
“You want me to take you back to the hotel?” he asked.
“I don’t think that will work. I’ve just checked out,” Tory said, becoming anxious.
She wanted to call Wisconsin and let her parents know what happened. Flashing on the idea that she may not have been the only contest winner stuck in the city, Tory told the driver the address for Nextthing.Net as he pulled off the expressway onto a service road to turn back towards Manhattan.
She called ahead but couldn’t get through. She left a message with the contest’s coordinator, then called home. After carefully weighing the current options, Tory’s mother told her to call the airline to find out if they were offering accommodations until the next flight out, when a beeping signaled another incoming call.
It was the contest coordinator from Nextthing.Net, letting her know that a few others from the contest were stuck in the city as well and that she could join them in the design studio’s conference room as they negotiated alternate routes. Calmer inside the clean sleek lobby of the building, Tory was met by a security team member who escorted her to the elevators that would take her back up inside Nexthing.Net’s suite of offices.
In the long conference room, Mahira rose to hug Tory as Tory looked to the others: Dan Ennick, a Cinema 4D wizard from Seattle and Lincoln Zhou, a web designer from Taiwan. Mindful of the Coronavirus and its transmission, both young women suddenly stepped back from each other with a nervous grin.
“I’ve been trying to get through to both the airline and the airport with equal luck,” Mahira said looking at Tory’s face. “Meaning, none at all. Lincoln says his airline will put him up in Queens. Did you make it to the airport?
“No. I am going to try calling. I’ll look on the web to see if they’ve put up any updates,” Tory said, trying to muster up enthusiasm for troubleshooting the situation when a tone sounded in sync with the flashing light of the monitor on the wall above the conference room table.
