Color of truth

“Mind the shadow. What do you think that means, Anton?”

“How should I know? I think this guy was paranoid. The outside team found this yesterday with the corpse. He wasn’t supposed to be outside.”

“There are a few pictures on this phone.”

“You figured out how to charge it?”

“Yes. You hired me for that, remember. Let’s check them.”

Anton opened the first picture. The photo appeared in full screen.

“What is that?”

“Liam, it’s not important, the file is probably damaged.”

“The phone was in his pocket, along with the note: mind the shadow.”

“Do you know how he died?”

“I don’t know. Based on his clothes, we think he died two centuries ago. I’m waiting for the coroner’s report. Can you open the other pictures?”

“I’m not sure it will lead anywhere.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, Anton scrolled through the photos.

“You see, Liam? They are all corrupted.”

“No, look at the last one. This one seemed fine. The sky and the shadows were as usual.”

After a short pause, Anton said:

“They’re old pictures, Liam. It doesn’t matter. Look. The first was taken in May 2026. The last one in December 2027.”

“Then how do you explain the first one?”

“I don’t know. Probably a sensor error. But look at the sky in those photos. It starts with this tint, and then, photo after photo, it gradually returns to its usual color.”

In the photos, the shadows seemed darker. Everything was saturated except the pale sky.

“Can I see the third one?”

“Sure.”

“What is the symbol on this signet ring? The dead guy had the same.”

“Listen, it’s late, you should go home. Your wife is probably worried. The guy died two hundred years ago. He’s not going anywhere.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Liam stood up and grabbed his bag.

“You’re leaving too?”

“No, I have to finish the report first. See you tomorrow.”

“OK. Bye.”

Before leaving the office, Liam glanced once more at the phone. On the way home, he was walking through the underground tunnels. People were speaking out loud around him. Some were heading to a party. Others were still working or, like him, were probably going back home. In one corner, a violinist was playing. The echo against the concrete walls sounded slightly off. He stopped to look at the old, faded greenish posters on the walls. The fans were pushing the air through the vents. Further ahead, an Aetherveil team was cleaning the filters.

By the time he arrived home, everything was ready. The food prepared by the robot assistant was waiting on the kitchen table. It was late. He ate. The shadows leaned pink in the artificial light. As usual, his wife was already asleep. She used to wait for him but not anymore. His job had taken up too much space in his life. When he went to bed, he closed his eyes, listening to her calm breathing, and tried to fall asleep.

In the morning, Liam felt the weight of a short night as he headed toward his office. He was halfway when he got a call.

“Hi, it’s Jimmy. I have just finished the autopsy. You should come to my office to read the report.”

“Can it wait until the afternoon?”

“No, it can’t. Please, hurry up. Something's wrong with the atmosphere.”

Liam, without knowing why, quickened his pace. Jimmy's unusually tense tone put him on alert. When Liam arrived at Jimmy’s office, a police tape was blocking the door. Anton was waiting, his face unreadable.

“I’m sorry, Liam. They killed Jimmy.”

“Who are they?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where is the report?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I need the goddamn report! Jimmy called me this morning. He asked me to come early.”

“Stop it. I don’t know what you are talking about. There is no report on his desk.”

Liam tore through the police tape and burst into the room. Standing in the middle of the room, he looked at the desk. There was no denying it: the report was gone. Jimmy's desk was tidy as if he were still around, his mug of coffee waiting for him.

“Where is the corpse?”

“Get back to our office, Liam.”

Anton’s tone was cold and peremptory. Liam left his friend’s office and went back to his. The windowless room never felt so dark. The brownish coffee was cooling in the cup. Liam was staring at the phone, the silence pressing in.

A shiver ran down Liam's spine. He feverishly grabbed the old phone and opened the document named ‘Atmosphere’. The header displayed the logo of Aetherveil. But, it was mostly scientific gibberish. There were a lot of diagrams, some percentages about chemical compounds. The only person able to understand that in these underground levels was Jimmy. He went back to the photo of the signet ring and stared at it.

“I should have thrown the phone away.”

Liam raised his head. In front of him, Anton stood, calm, looking at him, his left hand in his pocket.

Liam froze. Then, as if propelled by a spring, he left his chair, pushed Anton out of his way and started running. There were too many stairs to climb. The higher he climbed, the more his throat began to itch. The air grew thinner, and his throat began to turn dry like cardboard. He could hear Anton behind him, breathless, shouting.

“You can’t go to the surface! It’s too dangerous!”

As he climbed, he noticed that there were fewer and fewer air filters. Finally, he reached the top. He pushed the door open, stepped out onto the empty surface. The ground was red, the wet grass was pale green and the pink shadow of a wind turbine cut against the ground. He struggled to breathe. His lungs burned. He tasted blood. He looked at the sky, not sure what color it should be.

He heard Anton breathing heavily behind him.

“Where is Jimmy, Anton?”

“He is fine.”

Anton raised his head to the sky, his hand tightening on Liam’s shoulder.

“Can’t you see, Liam? The sky has always been green. Give me the phone now.”

The dizziness intensified, blurring his thoughts. Liam could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He looked at Anton’s left hand. In the morning light, his red signet ring gleamed.