Before I could raise another objection, she said, “Just follow me, please.” I decided now would be a good time to be a little patient and so I did as she asked. We walked for about four blocks, which really began to kill my bare feet, until she led me down a dark, dank alley. Then she stopped and looked at me. “Please come stand in front of me and face me, young man.” I complied.
I was about to ask her why we were in this alley when suddenly everything around us changed. Instead of being in some dark alley, I was now standing in a brightly lit room of some kind. I spun around multiple times to try and see everything around me. The room looked like some kind of headquarters seen in movies or comic books. There were lights and large computers, consoles and viewscreens all around. There were a couple of round tables with chairs around them. The tables and chairs, as well as the floor, were all shiny and white. There were no windows and, from as best as I could tell, no doors.
“I assume your first question is, ‘Where am I?’” the woman said. I gave her a dumbfounded nod. “You are in a place that doesn’t really exist,” she continued. I could really do without the cryptic bullshit, I thought to myself. “However, we call this place The Control Room.”
“‘We?’” I asked.
“In good time,” she brushed off my question with a raise of her hand. “You see, young man, it was no accident that you received that ring.” She shook her head. “Before we go further, I believe formal introductions are in order.” She extended her hand to me. “My name is Victoria Adams,” she said.
Slowly and reluctantly I shook her hand. “Joe Manfred,” I said.
“Nice to finally make your acquaintance, Joe,” she said. “As I said, you received that ring for a reason. You mentioned an old lady gave it to you, is that right?”
“Yea,” I said. “Just because I made sure she didn’t forget her purse before she got on a bus.”
Victoria nodded. “A good deed,” she said. “A small, but simple and noble gesture. That’s all it takes.”
“All what takes?” I asked.
She continued, “That’s all it takes to be given entry into P.H.A.N.T.O.M.”
Oh boy, I thought to myself. I felt like rolling my eyes. But I caught myself before I could so as not to get her mad again. “What is P.H.A.N.T.O.M.?” I asked nervously.
“P.H.A.N.T.O.M. stands for Permanently Hidden Anonymous Nobodies Triumphing Over Malice,” she said. I raised an eyebrow. “I did not create the name,” she said. “But you will come to understand it.” She walked over to one of the tables, set her purse down on it and sat down. She motioned for me to sit with her. Just before I sat down, she said, “Oh, before I forget.”
Instantly the trench coat was gone and my clothes had returned. I finally felt normal again. Sort of. “Thank you,” I said. I figured it was time to get on her good side. I sat down across the table from her.
“This is a very complicated story, but please wait to ask questions,” she said. “For me it all started…”