When All is Null and Void

Chapter Two

Three Years Later

The early evening sun hit the twin towers of the Museum sideways. The glare that exploded forth from the pristine gold columns forced Caleb Carlisle to shield his eyes. The long thoroughfare leading to the front doors of the Museum was a rather painful nightly ritual of Caleb's. The possibility of going blind was high, and unfortunately plausible. At the slightest glint of morning sun, the golden spires burst forth a beacon of light that lasted throughout the day and long into the evening hours.

Knowledge is a beacon; this was the essential doctrine of the Museum's architecture. Caleb squinted against the extravagant light until he reached the base of the building and was out of the direct cast of radiance. Scanning his Historian ID chip, Caleb entered the decadent lobby of marble and the same gold from the spires. The fifty foot high ceiling and ornate chandeliers shimmered, their glinting light moving like shimmering water against the walls. Two large staircases swept from both sides of the front door, leading off into the Museum's different branches.

A fortress, blocks wide and stories tall, the Museum had been built, rebuilt, and expanded over the last forty years. It won't ever be finished, I expect, Rhea James had said a few weeks ago in an interview. The Museum would continue to expand throughout the world, reminding people that knowledge of history was important. Caleb wasn't sure how they did it, but then again he was simply one barista at a coffee shop on the third floor. He'd never seen Rhea James, unless you counted seeing her on the Holo programs—then, of course, he'd seen her quite a bit. As for in person, he probably never would.

The James family consisted of Rhea and her son Titus. They were the richest family in living history, and seventy years ago, their family had begun this operation of making history accessible. They'd grown increasingly inaccessible at the same time, growing into some type of royalty. Queen of Time, that's what news syndicates called Rhea. Simply because she controlled all of this history.

And to think that the only exciting thing in Caleb's life was the morning rush when he worked it once month. The first rush he'd ever experienced still filled him with anxiety. He'd been fourteen, barely a green bean at the shop, and had been expected to man payment and make drinks almost simultaneously. He'd burst into silent tears when a white haired woman had screamed at him when he forgot to give her a straw. His supervisor, Jenna, had come to save him, and even she'd been overwhelmed by the droves of people crashing into the shop begging for an IV drip of caffeine, a failed promotion from nearly a year before.

Caleb had since grown used to it all, and was rarely impressed by the amounts of people. Somehow he'd learned the graceful art of single-handedly manning the shop at night, even if it wasn't ever as busy as the mornings. Tonight, as he swung around the counter, he smiled at Rachel, who was currently wiping the counter with a white rag drenched in sanitizer. She gave a stiff nod but didn't smile or say anything. "Hi, Rachel," he said, breaking their unspoken agreement that they wouldn't talk to each other. For some reason she acted like he was beneath her, and it grated on his nerves.

His foster mom, Angelica, had said it was probably because he was simply too charming and Rachel was just too perturbed by it. "I don't think so," Caleb had said, rubbing the side of his face with his knuckles. The only person to ever call him charming had been Angelica, and that was like a grandma pinching his cheeks. Sort of disheartening. She might have wanted to be like a mom, but no one could replace his parents.

As he washed his hands, Caleb shoved the thoughts threatening to surface under the stream of water and drowned them down the drain. He didn't want to think about his parents, and definitely didn't want to start a shift bitter. He clocked into the Database, the Museum's Historian Service System. He yawned once, as loud and obnoxious as he could manage, before walking back to the front and relieving Rachel. Rachel darted away without so much as a thank you. She was on her Wrist Holo in an instant, puttering away at some message board she loved so much. "Bye," he said under his breath, but she didn't respond. Although, that was probably because she hadn't heard him.