This is where Amar heads from Methoral Palace, the seat of Atlantis' monarchy in the year 3096, to the senate building. Both are in the city of Atlantia. His journey there and a couple of other things that happen are from Chapter 2: Three Days Later.
The clock in a far corner of the room rang six times, waking Amar from his meditation. He stepped out of Sheba’s office and navigated his way through the maze-like corridors of Methoral Palace. Arriving at the garage he hurriedly entered a large black truck. The caravan sped out of the Palace, and on towards the Senate building.
Hoving-Cars made the trip quickly, floating inches above the ground, zooming past barricades and traffic. Bodyguards rode outside on little, hovering scooters. They were jittery, reacting to the smallest outburst from anyone. One man was taken in a back corner and came back with a busted lip. He had moved too close to Amar’s convoy.
Tension was in the air and Amar could see it rippling across the country. Many citizens had heard rumors of the King missing. The shooting at Café Atlantis did not help matters. In fact, much of the protesting and uproar was coming from angry mothers and prohibition activists who had decided to camp outside of the club.
It was a media field day, with journalists fueling any and all hype that the shooting was connected to the King’s disappearance. It didn’t make any sense to Amar, how the country was losing its grip so readily. Maybe it’s because there is no apparent heir, he thought. After all, when Briok’s grandmother died, his father took up the mantle right away. Now all they have is a distraught mother and a little boy. God help us.
The Senate building was now in sight, an enormous blot against the sky comprised of the finest alabaster and white marble. As the car came to rest in the Senate building’s parking garage, Amar’s eyes lit up. I haven’t called Ori. “I’ll be just a moment,” Amar said to one of his aides as he stepped out of the truck. He took out his phone, turned on the holographic receiver and called his contact on Paragon 3. Stepping into the shadow of one of the pillars supporting the parking structure, Amar waited for a reply.
Finally, someone picked up, “Hullo?”
“Ori, have you arrived at the moon yet? Have you found the body?”
“No, I have’t gotten there yet, I just left last night. It’ll take two more days to get there.”
Amar bit his lip, “I’m sorry, I’m just anxious”
“Don’t be, Amar. I’ve done this three times now. I’ve got the headstone and the coffin to put him in right here. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Thank you, Ori. I appreciate it.”
“You better. I hate clean up.” Amar heard the click and hung up the phone. I hope Kilik doesn’t take the sword again. I hate it when he does that.
He headed towards an elevator that would take him to the main Senate chamber. A throng of reporters met him as he exited the elevator, anxiously trying to grab a sound bite from him. Amar pushed them away and headed towards two gold-plated doors. Opening them, he entered a large chamber filled with blue chairs and white marble desks. Each was arranged on tiers, resembling an ancient amphitheater, eventually leading to a small dais, where two long desks sat opposite each other. In the middle of each desk was a microphone, and a very large, black chair. The black chairs were flanked by smaller red chairs, and towards the end of the dais, between the two tables, was a marble podium.
As Amar walked down the aisle, chandeliers lined along the ceiling lit themselves, shadows covering the marble walls of the room. Men and women began to file in through various doors lining the floor of the chamber, Senators sat in there tiered seats, while the Executive and Judicial bodies of the government made their ways to the two tables at the bottom of the chamber.
Amar reached the podium and waited for everyone to take their seats. The entire chamber was full, and the uncertain mumbling that had entered the room quieted. He forced a smile and began, “My friends welcome. I know that our country has been in turmoil for the past few days now. I know your hearts must be heavy with worry and fear. The news I bring today, will not abate these fears or my own. But with knowledge comes power, and with this power we can gain the strength to move forward. It is my deep regret to inform this body that,” Amar’s voice was lost for a moment, but he swallowed his pain and spoke plainly, “Our King is dead.”