You can turn around and return to your studies . . . no questions asked. All you’ll have to do is hold true to your promise and not tell anyone about the Pantheon. Right now, I’m the only one who knows you accepted our offer, but the second you walk through this door, it’s final. There’s no turning back.”
“I understand,” Landon replied. He diverted his eyes from his professor, turning them down as he weighed the decision in his mind. What had prompted Dr. Brighton to suddenly shift into the concerned teacher? Why did he appear so worried? Landon asked himself, What am I getting into? What could be wrong about joining a group of students who dedicated themselves to helping people? What was really locked away in the Restricted Tower? What was Dr. Brighton not telling him? What’s behind that door?
Before he could find answers to his many questions, Dr. Brighton continued hurriedly, emphasizing his concerns before some unknown deadline had passed. “Landon, what the Pantheon does is dangerous. You’d be risking your life! Are you sure you want that kind of responsibility? Just think about it. I have to open the door at nine o’clock on the second, so you must choose now. There’s no looking back after that. Whatever you decide, I will respect your decision, but I would not feel right without giving you a second chance.”
Landon looked back at his teacher. He’d never seen him appear so worried and shaken. Dr. Brighton always seemed so strong and rational; what was it about this organization that made him so unnerved? Landon didn’t know what to do. He’d agreed to become a member of the Pantheon, to fight to protect the United States. His brain kept telling him to turn back, that there was no reason to risk his life, but his heart kept reminding him that he needed redemption, a way to assuage his guilt. To make matters worse, Dr. Brighton’s shift in attitude had spiked Landon’s curiosities, which had been piqued the moment they’d headed toward the Restricted Tower. He knew he would finally get to know what was going on inside, and he always had a difficult time resisting his need to know.
“Dr. Brighton, I appreciate the concern,” Landon started, “but I told you in your office I would do it. Growing up, my mom always told me to trust my gut. I’m supposed to do this. She would want me to do this, and now that I know it exists, there’s no way I can go back to the way things were before. I need this.”
Dr. Brighton dropped his gaze and lowered his head. His grip on Landon’s shoulders slacked, and then his arms fell to his sides. After an extended moment, Dr. Brighton stood upright, and with a quick breath through his nose, shook himself back into the stoic professional Landon had interacted with throughout the morning.
He stepped up to the large steel door and placed his hand on a black panel to the right of it. A thin, glowing blue line oscillated up and down the screen a few times, scanning Dr. Brighton’s hand, and left a luminescent blue residual print on the screen as it processed. After a moment, a vibrant green bar stretched across the center of the scanner with the words “ACCESS GRANTED” visible in black type. Then, a loud metallic sound resonated from the steel door, followed by a high-pitched hiss as the airlock depressurized.
Landon felt like he had walked into the Pentagon. The entire tower seemed to be a single room. Desks were scattered with papers, and people worked diligently on computers. The walls were lined in massive concave screens. Some appeared to be performing some sort of complex search as images flashed at an incomprehensible speed. Others were broken up into a series of squares, each playing a different news station from around the world. The room was massive; the ceilings must have reached to the second, if not the third, floor, and the sound of typing fingers and multiple news anchors mixed with the bright video images, causing Landon to go into sensory overload. He didn’t know where to look. He never expected anything like this to be hidden within the tower.
He followed behind Dr. Brighton as he walked down a path toward the center of the room. Scanning the people at the desks, he recognized people he’d seen for the first time at Thanksgiving and in the First Frost Frenzy stands.
They reached a