Acedia

It was the day of the party, and I was standing outside the venue with Lillia. In front of us was an immense building of hypermodernist design. Plated entirely in a shiny stainless steel-like alloy and having a completely flat exterior, it was colloquially known by Strait residents as “the Cube”. I didn’t personally understand the appeal of the design, but I suppose one could argue that managing to make something this large stand without any internal or external support beams was a form of art in itself. Regardless, Lillia guided me to the entrance… or at least, where the entrance should have been. Apparently taking displeasure in the idea of anything disrupting the smooth surface of the building, the designers of the Cube made the entrance entirely invisible unless opened by fitting it perfectly within the wall. Thus, we momentarily stood outside a section of blank wall, waiting for the door mechanism to scan us and grant us access.

“I feel like the Cube would be more popular for events if the door was more apparent.”

Lillia clicked her tongue slightly while shaking her head, causing her blonde hair to sway, and emphasising the matching of colours between her hair, eyes, and golden dress.

“No, Ellie. That’s the point.”

“What do you mean?”

I was genuinely confused. I could only imagine that it would improve venue use for them to make things more user-friendly. Nonetheless, Lillia disagreed.

“The point of the Cube is that it is niche. If it was accessible, then it would lose that appeal.”

“… That seems like you’re just shooting yourself in the foot to spite those not a part of your ingroup.”

“Exactly! I’m glad you understand.”

At that, a large square hole in the wall opened up, revealing a passage into the venue. A pleasant androgynous voice chimed out in synchronisation with that opening.

“Welcome to the Strait Event Centre! We hope you enjoy your time here.”

After so much preparation, we finally entered the Cube. The architecture really does… leave a lot to the imagination. Continuing down the hallway, it genuinely was just a straight stretch of rectangular hallway, with every surface flat and covered in metal. I had frankly hoped that at least the interior might have something interesting to it, but I had yet to be impressed. Worst of all, throughout the hall, 18th century classical music was omnidirectionally playing, creating a quite unsettling impression. I had heard that, before they became as rapid a transport system as in modern times, elevators used to play irritating music; that said, I was quite certain that this was worse, given the added manual labour of walking.

Finally, we reached a wall, presumably the entrance to the actual venue itself. Characteristically of the Cube, it would look like a simple dead end if I wasn’t already aware of the pathologically lazy architectural perversions of the designers of this building. Lillia waved her hand to signal that the door should open… and then I was left flabbergasted by what was inside.

In the perfect image of an 18th century banquet hall, colourful tapestries were laid out across the walls, with extravagant chandeliers hung from the ceiling. In a complete clash with the construction of the rest of the building, the flooring and walls seemed to be constructed out of wood and concrete. In the centre of the large room were the clothed banquet tables, each set with various refreshments. I could see wooden doors presumably leading off to a ballroom or something of the sort. Given that I hadn’t heard anything about this, I glanced at Lillia for explanation. Unfortunately, she seemed just as perplexed as me.

“I… wasn’t told that they were going to change the venue design. Give me a moment, Ellie.”

While we both entered the room, Lillia set to work on her E-watch, likely contacting the organisers to find out what exactly was happening. I glanced around the room, confirming that, indeed, it seemed fully devoid of life. While we had arrived before the official start time, Lillia had told me that this was standard etiquette for this type of an event. After a few more moments of my attempt to make first contact with any human life, Lillia gave a grunt of frustration.

“They’re telling me that they decided to change the theme.”

“… When?”

“Yesterday… apparently. They say they sent out notification, but….”

Automation inside the Cube would indeed allow an abrupt last-minute change in the venue design. However, actually doing it last minute without any notification was something that I could only see upsetting guests based on the information I had on these parties. With that said, the fact that the Bellon family chose this party in particular for Lillia’s test would imply a certain level of trust in the organisers. Additionally, the impunity with which they did this indicated that the organisers didn’t believe that this would be problematic behaviour. If that’s the case, then I can only assume my base information is fault. If so….

“Lily, have you ever actually been to a party before?”

Lillia turned her head away and coughed, noticeably embarrassed. She had obviously come to the same conclusion as me.

“I… may not have been to a party before, but that’s not my fault! This isn’t my fault!”

“I didn’t blame you….”

“When was I supposed to make time for partying as a minor who had a constant mountain of work?! I couldn’t …”

I ignored her ongoing rant trying to excuse her exclusively theoretical knowledge of these things being passed off to me as objective fact, and refocused my thoughts on what this would mean. Hopefully our outfits won’t be off theme now…. While I was considering that, a baritone voice addressed us from behind.

“Ah, Miss Bellon!”

A stocky bearded man with dark brown hair and tanned skin approached. He seemed to be in his 80s – granted, that would translate to one’s appearance being in their 40s without anti-aging technology. Matching his eye colour, his dark blue suit completed the unshakably firm impression he gave off. He was currently wearing a welcoming smile and looking at Lillia.

“Oh, Darren Foster? Please, just call me Lillia. I haven’t seen you since my birthday four years ago!”

Instantly losing her frustrated appearance, Lillia switched at lightning speed to giving off a remarkably social impression. “Lillia”, huh?

“You’ve grown quite beautiful since then, Lillia. Though, I must say, you came quite early, did you not?”

Lillia widened her eyes as if surprised.

“Really?! What is the time?”

Darren glanced at his watch briefly. I did the same.

“It’s 5:29 now. Most people won’t be arriving for another half hour.”

I see. Given that the official start time was 5:30, I can only assume that the start time is a start time for arrival as opposed to a hard deadline for it. Lillia’s information was wrong. Lillia, likely working out the same thing, nodded slightly at me.

“Oh dear, Elysia! Is your E-watch broken? I thought it was already six o’clock!”

“Elysia”? Having expected her to pass the baton to me like that, I had been adjusting my watch settings while she was speaking to move forward the time. I showed the clock, saying 6:01, to Darren and Lillia as a prop for her explanation. I quickly added on to complete the excuse.

“Apologies, Lillia. It looks like my time zone got changed somehow.”

Lillia, not showing her usual reaction to me calling her by her actual first name, implicitly confirmed my earlier theory. Darren, for his part, chuckled dryly.

“I hear that there were issues with that in some watches. Regardless, since you came so early, would you like me to show you around?”

The issue was actually in a different watch brand, but I had hoped he would think of that. Regardless, I took that as my cue to, while hiding my hands behind my back, press a button on my watch.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Lillia’s watch began to vibrate in the call receiving pattern. She put on a disquieted smile.

“Ah, my apologies, Mister Foster. I’ll need to get this call outside.”

“Not a problem. See you two again soon.”

We then left the venue in a slight hurry. When we were outside, Lillia’s mask finally dropped, and she let out a deep sigh, sweat beginning to build up on her face.

“That guy is fucking dangerous, Ellie. I would rather have my organs replaced with those new glow in the dark prosthetic versions than go anywhere near him.”

I paused a moment, running the name over in my mind for a moment.

“I didn’t see a Darren Foster on the guest list.”

“You memorised the guest list?”

“I’ve read the guest list, yes. But could you explain who Darren Foster is?”

She raised an eyebrow and shook her head tiredly, before finally explaining.

“To cut to the chase, the Foster family are drug lords.”