“What’s with the warm illuminators?”

“Cold temperature throws me out of kilter.”

“…and the spooky tunnels?” she interrogatively persists.

Mr. Bishop snickered contemptuously then pries the elevator shaft, holding it open for her to get in. “Well that,” he began his josher, “that’s just for fun.”

They rode the elevator many floors down, so far down that she almost lost count. But as alert as she was, she had might as well been deemed spider-woman. After falling twelve stories down, the elevator opened before them and her lids fell to the ground. She could not believe her eyes.

Before her laid a beautifully immense laboratory that stretched as far back as the eyes could see. The clean white sparkly tiles on the floor on walls blended well with the shiny silver and gold tech that furnished the room. There were energized tapping and scurrying feet for miles across the room, robots with built-in coffee dispensers and lab coats that dated back decades ago or had long been considered gone.

“Oh my God! “she screeched in excitement, “Is that Albert Einstein?” She breathlessly foamed at the mouth. Turning for a moment's acknowledgment at the admiring worshiper before him, he doffed his hat with the test tube in the other hand, then smiled and said, “Madman,” before proceeding back to work.

“Good heavens have mercy!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, “Is that who I think it is?” She yelled as she pranced headstrong straight ahead to the mighty sword that stood before her. “Your majesty,” she bowed before him. Being the chivalrous and modest man that he was, he simply took her by one hand and brought her up from below,

“My lady needn’t bow before me. It is I, who have been graced by such beauty.” Alaya’s face reddened with adoration before King Arthur. But her moment of mind-boggling bliss was brought to an end when Mr.

Bishop tugged her by the arm and pulled her away from all the excitement. Her body went with him, but her heart stayed among the mightiest of men, the strongest of women that the world has ever produced and the greatest of minds-.

People of great accomplishments, strength, wisdom, and integrity! And yet, here they all were, in the 22nd century, thinking, working, developing… Alive?

Alive... and in the grips of... Mr. Bishop?

Alaya’s mind began to collapse at the inconceivable reality that was. As the moment of bliss faded, she wobbled to the unlit hallway where she was being led. Then fell to the ground. Her arm fell dead to the side and her head hung, swung then collapse before her.

She slowly raised her hands before her, starring at them petrified, to see if it was she that was not real.

“How…” She deliriously began to mumble. “This is impossible!”

With sweaty palms and shaking nerves, she dared to lift her head to see the danger before her. Starting from the heels of shoes, she observed every thread of his clothes down to the microscopic dust particle that had made its way onto his fine fitted suit. She knew then, if at no other moment, that she was dealing with no ordinary man… perhaps, no man at all.

“Who…are you?”

With tears, fleeing down her cheeks, she finally looked up at him as he stood before her. He wore both hands in his pocket and had no smile on. His maleficent air of formidable terror stunned her, and she sat with bated breath awaiting an answer.

He went down to meet her, but not too strong as to crumble his firm attire, “My name is not important as I’ve had many throughout my lifetime.” He educated her. “But if it’s a title that you want?” he continued, “Well, this generation seems to refer to me as…

The leader of the resistance.”