“Another inch to the left!” I yell out to Sarah, who’s controlling the small crane, “And stop!”
She stands up from the control panel and quickly, but carefully, makes her way across to help me fit the metal bar into place.
“Watch out, now,” she says. Any mistake and it’d go hurtling down 170 stories. With us, too, probably. That’s the main problem about working on the newest tallest building in the world, you’re really not allowed to be scared of heights. Also, any kinds of storms throw a wrench into our plans, building or otherwise, really. Plus, I know Sarah has had one or two close calls over the past few years with slippery platforms.
I look at Sarah and see the company logo in the distance on the second highest building in the city. It’s the same company that’s paying us to build this one. Murton & Laker Co is one of the most important players in the chemistry business and they’re starting to get their fingers into politics, too. Well, that’s the official statement. Everyone knows they’ve been facilitating their own success for quite a while now. James Murton and Tammy Laker studied law at a small-town college and made their way to, and past, success by finding and creating loopholes, and cheating hardworking chemists out of their money. They’ve gotten quite the reputation, to the point where young chemists with the same ambitions are applying for the company, thinking they can eventually follow in their footsteps. Spoiler alert: they usually can’t.
Sarah and I carefully lift the heavy metal bar and slowly wedge it into place, fastening clamps and screws on either side. Finally, we’ve finished the rough area of the building. Next, we’ll have to put the windows into the sides and then we’ll be able to top it all off and start working on the insides.
The smell of rain fills the air, and it’s starting to piss me off. It’s the third time in three days that it’s started raining and storming here despite the weather forecast having predicted a dry spell for the next few weeks, and it always means we can never proceed according to plan. It starts drizzling. A light goes on two floors below us and Sarah tries to give me a hand to help me down, but ends up accidentally pushing me to the side instead. It was lucky that she did though, as a metal bar swings right over me, barely missing me. It’s a rough landing, and my head meets the floor. For a second, I need to look around to see where I was. Suddenly, I hear raindrops and feel myself slipping down. Sarah reaches out, grabbing my arm. She almost slips, too, but with her second arm and an adrenaline rush she barely manages to pull me up.
I look up and see a faint outline. It looks like some sort of person? It’s obviously impossible, but I could swear I see an outline of a person looking down on us as I stare up into the sky. It starts thundering, and I turn to tell Sarah that we need to rush down.
“Hurry!” I tell her, but she looks at me in bewilderment. It’s almost like she doesn’t understand English anymore.
“Tuk shnaps? tik thtup!” Sarah yells at me.
“Stop fooling around! We have to go!” I yell back, raising my arms in visible anger. Typical Sarah, she must be trying to prank me.
“Tamps shnap’ak?! thkit’eks!”
Sarah takes a frightened step back, pointing behind me. I turn around just in time to see a pile of windows being transported up via the large crane, but it’s moving very haphazardly. Whoever’s controlling it is having some problems seeing what’s going on. I make my way towards Sarah and we start walking down together. We can’t understand what the other one is saying, and I’m pretty sure that’s because my brain is as good as fried from the fall, but we can understand that we need to get the hell out of here before we’re cooked alive.
We eventually reach the bottom of the massive skyscraper, using every method we can to hurry up and not get zapped. Sarah managed to communicate to me what different directions were in her new language, which saved my life several times. “Sipp” was left and “thpik” was right. I learned the hard way that “kut” meant down, as I ran right into a metal pole that was hanging quite low. Mix that with my crash landing just before and you’ve got a recipe for disaster
Taking the last steps out of the building, I hear shouting coming from the area around the crane.
“Them eth pop em! Om khoth, pop kom!”
“Shidad, unib immab!”
“Thokth! Ong pop!”
A walkie-talkie falls to the floor and a voice crackles through.
“Ekhmeth emn ang?”
My head is throbbing and I can’t understand what anyone is saying, so I decide to go home. A few blocks away from home, I’m suddenly pulled into an alleyway by a person whose face I can’t see properly.
“Our plan is working!” they tell me, and I shake my head in confusion, my eyebrows furrowed. I can’t even see who they are. They put their hand on my back and lead me towards a lighter part of the alley.
It’s Sarah! And I can understand her! Maybe my head isn’t as bashed up as I thought it was. She continues her explanation. “Our plan. Remember? We need to stop this building from being finished! It harms not only the environment, but it’s blasphemous to boot!”
“So what was with you speaking a different language? Why is everyone speaking languages that don’t even sound like they exist?”
“It’s part of the plan, the plan we meticulously created together? Remember? I mean, you worked on the languages for everyone, but we worked on the full plan together.”
I give her a blank look, not knowing what she’s talking about, and she takes a step back as her eyes widen.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten!” She says, her hands on her head in desperation.
“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about!”
She squats down against the other wall in the alley and takes a moment to think.
“You really don’t remember anything about the plan?” she inquires, looking back up.
“No, I swear!”
“Nothing at all?”
“Look, this sounds like something really important that I played a large part in. Why would I lie about that?”
“Fair point,” she sighs, “Look, we’re the only building company that that group of money-guzzling honchos trusts enough to build this building, especially after how well we built their last one. Not to mention, they’re surprisingly quite devout, too. At least, they act like they are. They need this building for their latest power move, especially since it forces a lot of poor people to move out of town with the lack of housing we have here, effectively shifting the votes in their favour. We can’t allow them to get into power! That’s why we came up with this plan: If we sabotage it by acting like building it lead to a second tower of Babel incident, they’ll have to cancel the building process!”
I don’t remember having planned any of this, but I trust Sarah enough that she wouldn’t lie to me about it, so I walk up to her and hold my hand out to her. “I may not remember the plan, but I can still try to help.”
She grins and grabs on to my hand so that I can help her get back up on her feet. “That’s what I like to hear, Sam. So, there’s not much left to do, but we need to cause an accident on the building site. That’s the final step. From what I’ve heard, the people in charge are already discussing cancelling the project. “
“That’s great, but… what kind of accident?”
“Johnny’s family is in a lot of debt, and the insurance money they’d get from a, uhm, very heavy accident would be more than enough to pay it off.”
“We’re helping him commit suicide?”
“… Essentially. But it’s for the greater good, and it was his idea.”
This whole thing is beginning to make me feel uneasy. I find it hard to believe that I would have signed up for this if I knew all the details. But like I said, I trust Sarah. We’ve gone from company to company together and we’ve been as good as roommates for the last ten years. She saved me from hitting the street when my parents kicked me out, and helped me get a job by getting references for me. We’ve worked together for so long that I’d trust her with my life, and at times I’ve already had to.
We meet up with some other builders who are still speaking the conlangs I apparently made for them. Sarah starts speaking her conlang again and we make our way towards the base of the skyscraper. It’s time for the final phase of this plan. Reaching the tower, we unscrew certain metal bars at key parts almost at the same time to make sure the building doesn’t fall, but parts of the next floor are prone to falling if only a bit of weight shifts.
We position everyone and wait for Johnny to get into the right position. He sits down at his computer and sees me. He’s got a new uniform on and it suits him well. He waves. That’s the signal!
Sarah gives the next floor a little push and it crashes down on Johnny’s body.
He yells out, “Help! HELP!”
Sarah gives me a thumbs up to indicate that the plan is working, but Johnny looks me right in the eye, now too weak to speak, as the weight of an entire floor crushes his chest. His eyes show me confused betrayal. I look back to Sarah. She’s still smiling at me, giving me a thumbs up when she notices I’m looking her way and starts walking towards me, beckoning me to come celebrate our success with the other builders. Step by step, the ceiling gets lower, accompanied by a sickening crunch.
If he was part of the plan, I think, my stomach twisting, why did he call for help in English?
Some of the coverage you find on Cultured Vultures contains affiliate links, which provide us with small commissions based on purchases made from visiting our site. We cover gaming news, movie reviews, wrestling and much more.
