here has something else he needs to do. Someone to see.”
Mason’s mouth dried up. So this is it. There has to be a cost. Nothing this big is done without expectations. “Where is he?”
Gabriel smiled and pointed. “First lift there. Annabelle’s waiting at the elevator, she’ll take you straight up to him, where I hope you’ll listen with an open mind and accept …”
“Accept what?”
“The offer to join us, of course.”
“If I refuse?”
Gabriel continued smiling. “You won’t.”
“Daddy,” Shelby whispered. “You won’t. I was just made a similar offer.”
“You?”
“Yes, coinciding with my research in London. They need someone in the branch office there.”
“You’re still in school. It’s out of the question.”
“In my spare time, Dad. It’s like an internship.”
“A well-paying one,” Gabriel said.
“And when,” Mason asked, “did money become important to you, Gabriel?”
“Who said it was? We’re talking about my little sister, who sure enjoys spending it. And besides, I know what you make as a weather hack, Dad, and I know how hard it is to pay for Mom’s care. So please do us all a favor, drop the martyr act and really listen to what’s offered to you up there.”
Shelby squeezed his hand. She signed, for old times’ sake, Please.
Chapter 9
The elevator ascended gracefully. Surrounded by glass, Mason had initially suffered the sickening feeling that he was being levitated or blown up by a steady wind. Dizzy, he tried not to look below his feet, through the glass to the awesome sight below, the marble tiles merging with the earthen floor, the stones in a perfect circle, their shadows lengthening in the glancing sunlight. He saw through the treetops, the lush grove, the rock tables, the flowing stream and the minor waterfalls pumped in from the northeast corner.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” asked his guide, Annabelle. She was petite and cute in a way, freckles on her cheeks, blonde hair parted down the middle and in curls around her face. He was struck with the sudden question whether Gabriel found her attractive and maybe some kind of workplace romance was going on. Maybe it was the way she stole sideways glances at him, as if she was sizing up her love interest’s father, unsure of what to say at this moment.
Suddenly, the elevator trip was taking too long. He couldn’t look away, still awed by the view—this time out the windows, over the rolling hills and swaying sycamores, up and across the veiled shadows in the mountains’ peaks and valleys under a broad sky of cobalt serenity.
“Beautiful,” he said belatedly.
“Thank you.” Annabelle blushed as if taking the compliment directly.
“Tell me,” Mason asked gazing up now, seeing they were about halfway up the tower, heading toward a thin platform. “How many people work here?”
“At this location? Nearly two hundred.”
“Really? Where?”
“Below, mostly. There are six sub-levels, plus two research labs. What you see here is really just our common area, a place of reflection, meditation and relaxation. We eat here, we have informal discussions, we talk before and after our shifts.”
“And your boss … he’s up there the whole time? What, like God, looking down on you all?”
Annabelle smiled. “You misunderstand. We’re not going to his office, he doesn’t have one. He walks among us, immerses himself in our work, talks with each of us, every day. No, we’re going to the rooftop glen, the Summit Grove. You’ll see when we get there. There’s no better place from which to view the world and to see clearly what needs to be done. It’s where all the important decisions are made.”
“I must say,” Mason argued, “this is one unusual company. Both in its architecture, and its people.”
“Thank you.” Annabelle said again. “And I must say, Mr. Grier, that you are one unusual man. Your children are special, talented. And you, well we hear great things about you.”
“You do? Like what? I’m just a weatherman.”
“You’re special. We need more people like you to continue our mission.”
“Not sure I’ll help with that, or that I can say I agree with your mission, but …”
“But you’ll listen.”
Mason nodded as they slowed, came to a stop. “Yes.”
O O O
Annabelle left him on the platform as she operated the lift to descend. “I’ll be back when you’re finished. Good luck.”
Mason stepped off, gingerly, onto the metal platform, expecting it to wobble, creak or something to jar him back into the elevator, but then with a swish of closing doors, there was nothing behind him anymore, the lift descending rapidly. And in front of him—an inviting stairway, made of polished