Outside of the control room, Angel stood with me and asked, “So… you saw the primary issue with this realm so far. Your supercomputer powers the lighthouse above, but it stalls out and shuts down at times due to its overheating. You noticed several frayed wires in your control room, yet, I bet there are more frayed wires not only in several places throughout this building but throughout the city as well. Maybe across the entire country even.”

“Across the entire country? Really? I have so many questions…” I said with worry.

“Go ahead.”

“So… how… how would this happen?”

Angel walked toward the steps to the 10th floor. “Great question. I think the library staff may know a little more about that subject since they work in this building every day. All my thoughts right now are just speculations.”

I followed him down the spiral staircase to the 10th floor. Angel continued his thought. “Why don’t we ask the staff worker behind the glass at the theater over there?” He pointed toward the glass wall with three ticket booths. There was only one staff member inside of the booth in the middle, dressed in a red and gold traditional theater uniform. He was a pimply teenage boy. No older than 17 years, from what I could tell.

“Oh! M-Madame President! And Sir.” He straightened his uniform and nodded toward Angel, “Welcome to the Congress Library Theaters! How can I help you?” He asked into the microphone with a cheery voice.

“Yes,” said Angel. “We’re currently doing an inspection of this establishment. Has the staff noticed any issues with this building’s power supply?”

The ticket boy’s eyes widened. “So you noticed it too?!? Wild right? Several parts of the building randomly lose power or just malfunction. One of our theaters even randomly stops working at times.”

“Yeah…” said Angel. “Just as I thought. You have any idea why this may be happening or how this started?”

“Ooo… why this may be happening… is way above my paygrade. But… mind if I get one of my managers? I’m sure she might have a better idea about what’s happening.”

Angel and the ticket boy looked at me to get my approval and I nodded. At that, the boy quickly turned around and dashed out of a door to the right of the ticket booth leading to the theaters. The wall behind his seat was painted dark red with light violet swirled accents. The letters in large shiny Copperplate gold spelled out “The Congress Library Theater”.

Angel and I stood in silence for 5 minutes when a woman with her hair pulled back in a tight bun and cat-eye glasses walked out of the main entrance of the theater. A small red and gold hat was pinned at a cocked angle on her head. “My! Madame President!” She said with a surprised smile. She had a slight southern drawl. She ran up and grabbed both hands. “I can’t tell you how much of a pleasure it is to have you here at our theater! It’s been a while since you were last here! And who is this fine gentleman?”

She openly did a once over of Angel who nodded in her direction. “Hello…” I struggled. Did we meet before? When was I last here?

“Hi!” Angel took over and presented his hand. “Angel de Muerte.“ He flashed his confident smile showing perfectly whitened teeth.

“My, my! Angel! Misty Rose, Manager of the Congress Library Theater. It’s a pleasure.” She blushed as she shook his hand.

“Come, you two! Follow me to my office. We can talk more there.”

She quickly turned and motioned for us to follow her through the main entrance to the theater. I took a moment to observe the location. It looked like a smaller scaled-down version of any American small-town movie theater with the snack station front and center and arcade on the opposite side next to the entrance. Two signs to the left and right of the drink stations at the snack center pointed down two curving hallways.

Sign One (<—):

“THEATER 1: ‘GHOST SONGS’: R”

“THEATER 2: ‘A RECOLLECTION OR TWO: A TRAGIC COMEDY’: PG-13”

Sign Two (—>):

“THEATER 3: ‘THAT ONE TIME WHEN…’: PG”

“THEATER 4: ‘TINFOIL’: A 4D EXPERIENCE: R”

Misty walked toward a door in the arcade to the right of the main entrance. She unlocked her office door. The glass wall extended to the right wall of her office. It allowed the natural light to enter in. Her blinds were slightly cracked. The left wall had the same red and violet accented wallpaper as the ticket booth. The white walls behind her were covered in floating shelves with framed photos of her on the sets of various movie scenes. I noted the greenery also on the shelves and around the room, especially her love of roses.

She straightened her gray pinstriped pencil skirt and sat down. She gestured to two open seats on the opposite end of the desk. “So…how can I help?”

Angel looked at me to start. “Thanks for seeing us, Misty,” I started. “Both Angel and I have been observing the power outages with the supercomputer. We wanted to inspect the Library to see where the issue is coming from. We wanted to see if you had any information or details to help us get to the bottom of the issue. From what Angel tells me, it’s causing the lighthouse to malfunction and cause accidents?”

She leaned forward and raised her eyebrows. “Oh yes! It’s a real issue. It’s especially making it difficult to play our currently trending movies. Especially ‘Tinfoil’. The world has reported this one as a smash hit that has beaten the opening weekend numbers of the last major motion film. But… our numbers have been down since that theater has been randomly having power outages. Fortunately, the ‘Tinfoil’ fans have been counting it as a sign that proves the theory that the government is involved. It’s only increased its popularity at other theaters. The random power outages across the country have only made the movie’s popularity soar.”

I unexpectedly made a face. “They think I’m the one who caused the power outages?”

She chuckled and played with the top button of her white blouse. “Well, it’s not like we didn’t expect it. Everyone loves a good conspiracy, right?”

Angel cleared his throat. “So the power outages aren’t just happening here. They’re happening across the nation?”

“Oh yes! Madame President, haven’t you been watching the news? The power outages have been so widespread that it’s causing several cities to declare a state of emergency. I thought your team would at least brief you on the situation.”

“Funny right? It’s almost as if I was elected President an hour ago…” I mumbled under my breath.

“What rumors have you heard on the power outages?” Angel interjected. “We went up into the control room where the servers are and saw that a bunch of wires were frayed and wearing out. It looks like it could be random…but all at once?”

Misty looked toward her office window and then back at us with a knowing smile.

“Well… You didn’t hear it from me… but word on the street is that there’s a lot of unrest among the military and working class. At the same time, everyone is talking about your upcoming match with ‘Mystery Girl’, Madame President! Whole factions are forming in opposition or in support of you around this fight.”

“Wait! What?” I hated how much I didn’t remember and hated that I had to act like I knew what they were talking about. Angel put his hand on my arm. I had no idea that my right arm was shaking.

“What Madame President means to ask is about these factions…what’s the development there?”

Misty pointed to the hanging TV in the corner between the entrance and the wallpapered wall. “Why don’t you see for yourself.” She grabbed a remote from her desk drawer and flipped the channels to the nearest news station.

“We have new developments around Mystery Girl’s challenge to Madame President. We have yet to identify who Mystery Girl is and where her whereabouts are. However, her publicist did confirm that she is excited for the upcoming fight. This will be the first time in history that an active sitting President will publicly fight a professional fighter. Particularly one who is quite the enigma. Mystery Girl has always been incredibly popular. Choosing to engage in every boxing and wrestling match with a Lucha Libre mask, and various colored contacts, no one knows the true identity of Mystery Girl, not even her coaches or the Professional Fight Club. She even has gone so far as to install a voice changer in her mask. All we know is that she is of similar height and weight to our President, making them compatible to fight. Mystery Girl is incredibly private and not even our private investigators can locate her whereabouts at any given time. Yet, when she says that she will be at a certain location at a certain time, she always shows. We have Dr. Joe Jerrickson, Sports Psychologist and Head Wrestling Coach for Ultima Heights University who was trained by Madame President’s MMA Coach, Coach Malek ‘V’ Chaim to offer some additional thoughts on this fight.” 

A man in a light blue polo and brown receding hairline and full mustache appeared on the screen. “Thanks for having me.”

The news anchor continued, “Dr. Jerrickson, tell us. Why would Madame President agree to this fight?”

Jerrickson adjusted in his seat. “By the looks of the current environment, Madame President is looking for any way to increase her popularity. We already know that her current ratings have been declining by the day as our infrastructure is deteriorating and falling apart. Take these nationwide power outages! People want to trust a president who can get things done and fight for the little guy. I think this fight is a symbolic way for the President to show that she can and will fight for the people.”

I sat there taking it all in. Wait… I don’t even think I’ve even thrown a punch… Did I? And now I’m going on national television to prove a pointless point?

I looked at Angel with pleading eyes, thinking, “Can’t we just make it all stop?” As I had that thought, I grabbed my eye in pain. Another bout of that acid pain ran down my eye, neck, and arm. As that happened, the supercomputer stopped and the lights flickered in Misty’s office. For what it’s worth, I was grateful I was sitting down this time.

As I waited for the moment to pass, Angel took over the conversation. “Thanks for debriefing us, Misty. As you can see, Madame President has been unwell after her latest training session. Turns out she was hit very hard in the head and has a bit of memory loss. I’m helping her regain her lost memory.”

Misty looked compassionately at me and then turned an admiring gaze on to Angel. “Wow, Angel. You truly are a saint! Anyway I can help is a pleasure for me.”

“Thanks.” Angel looked down at me also with compassion as I blinked away the tears running down my right eye. “Misty, do you only have four theaters showing these four movies?”

“We actually have a private VR theater for guests that we open for special occasions or requests. Why?”

“I’m thinking we can help jog Madame President’s memory by showing her past footage of some of her fights, training, and other scenarios. What do you think?”

Her eyes brightened with excitement. “I just had someone convert some of her training videos, conversations and other memories onto our VR database! They should be ready now to test. Did you want to go now? Or did you need more time to recover?” She directed that last question at me.

I sat listening to the news drone on in the background while thinking further about current events. So I can’t remember anything because I was punched in the face? Or was it something else? And people don’t like me? And I’m a President? Why? Why would I ever want to be a President? I hate being in the spotlight of anything. Guess there’s only one way to find out more.

“Sure.” I said to Misty. “Take me to your VR Room.”

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