Page 23 of Sins of Leo

While he’d seen it before, Ruth hadn’t, and she craned to look around their grand vestibule. Double doors, taller than Leo by a few feet, made of battered bronze and inscribed in a language no one could read. A marble floor that sparkled. A staircase that wound around and upwards.

“Does this tower have guest suites?” she asked.

“Yeah, but don’t ask me where they are. Tower decides who gets what.”

“You speak as if it’s sentient.”

“Because it is. Tower gives us what we need.” Again, something he didn’t understand or question. Not anymore, at least.

“More likely it’s just got really good staff who know how to maintain and serve its occupants.”

“Could be, but I’ve never seen them.” He headed for the stairs. “Hope you don’t mind the climb. I know the first few floors don’t have any suites for staying in.”

“First few? How many floors are there?”

“Let’s just say that it’s the tallest building in the world by quite a bit. So tall, it should be impossible.”

He watched her eyeing the steps, her expression daunted before she’d begun and confirmed as she muttered, “You’d think living in my multi-level brownstone would have curbed my aversion to climbing.”

“Think of it as a free thigh master.”

“Not all of us want tree trunks for legs.” She spoke as if it were a bad thing.

As they ascended, she remained observant and curious. “How old is this place?”

“No idea. Few thousand years, at least.”

“And where is it?”

“Iraq.”

She stumbled. “You’re joking.”

“Why would I joke about its location?”

“Because, if you’re speaking the truth, we went from New York to halfway across the world in the blink of an eye.”

“More like two or three blinks. I’m not sure of the exact speed, but it’s faster than light.”

“Insane,” she muttered under her breath then more loudly, “How come everyone thinks the Tower of Babel is a myth if it’s still standing?”

“Because no one can see it. Tower has protections that prevent people and even satellites from spotting it.”

“Like the Bermuda Triangle,” she joked.

“Not really. The Triangle isn’t something that can be seen, only experienced.” Some sort of thin spot between their plane of existence and another that randomly opened and shut.

“How long have you lived here?”

“A long time.”

“I see we’re back to your curt non-answers,” she grumbled.

“What’s the point of saying more? You’ll just scoff at the answer. And to think you called me stubborn, Buttercup.”

“Do not call me Buttercup. My name is Dr. Warmstone.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to work for me because we are no longer doctor and patient.”

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