Life Is Not an Egg... It's a Labyrinth (4)

The riddle had turned me back to the mural: an owl, and the figure of a goddess bearing spear and shield. Every one of them was a symbol of Athena. Famous as the goddess of wisdom, isn't she. So this theme was the kind that put a hero's intellect to the test.

The wording on the sign was familiar enough, too.

"...This is the Sphinx's riddle, isn't it."

Western art history — a general-ed requirement for any art student. I remembered what the professor had said while we were studying a painting of the Sphinx and Oedipus together.

"The famous riddle the Sphinx posed is the one about what walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon, and three in the evening. But in some tellings, there's a second quiz as well."

That second riddle had been offered up to amuse a lecture hall full of students dozing through an afternoon class. Two sisters who give birth to each other.

"The answer was day and night... wasn't it."

I remembered the rest, too — that they were called sisters because the Greek deities of day and night are women. In truth, the professor had said, they were mother and daughter.

"How am I supposed to enter the answer? If saying it out loud doesn't open the door, there's got to be some other way."

That was when the buttons beside the door caught my eye, a whole scatter of colors running from the rainbow all the way to white and black.

Day is the bright hours, when there's light. Night is pitch dark. Light usually means white, and darkness means black, so...

Right.

"Do I just press the white and black buttons at the same time?"

I reached the conclusion quickly enough, then froze with my fingers halfway there. ...What if there was a penalty for a wrong answer?

But there wasn't time to stand there shaking.

I have to decide...!

The wall had already closed to within an arm's length. I pressed white and black together.

A metallic clack.

...The sound of a lock coming undone!

I flung the door open and slipped through to the far side of the wall. Whew. At least I'd been spared the fate of a sheet of flattened dried fish.

The sigh of relief didn't last.

Rrrumble—

Whatever test of wisdom this theme was running, it wasn't finished. The same mural continued past the door, and the wall I'd just come through began to shove forward as well. I was going to lose my mind.

Is the quiz not over yet?

I ran the other way, away from the moving wall — thud-thud-thud — and hit another dead end.

This wall had a door too. The difference was that there wasn't only one.

Three doors: red, green, and blue. And above them, another plaque.

"The sun... shines for everyone...?"

Thanks to the smartwatch item from Vanta Design, a language I didn't know yielded its meaning in a single glance.

No buttons this time.

...Was the trick to open the door that matched the phrase and walk straight out?

Rrrrrumble—

With the hideous noise of the wall for background music, I sank into thought for a moment. The sun, so red? No — they might have twisted it. The light the sun gives shines on the earth, and plants grow because of it, so green? ......Or was it a trap, and the answer the blue that looked farthest from the sun?

"Aaaagh! You're telling me I have to bet my life on a one-in-three gamble?!"

The keyring that would send me back to the company took quite a while to activate. This was not a situation where I could use it. I was halfway through tearing my hair out when I stopped dead.

A thought had surfaced.

"...Hold on."

A designer lives with the color wheel more intimately than anyone. It's one of the first things you learn, back in the foundations course, when they teach you how color actually works.

"...The three primary colors of light!"

Red, green, and blue light, added together, become white. A white light that holds all three colors at once. It sat rather neatly beside the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠words on the sign: the sun shines for everyone.

What if all three doors are the right answer?

Agonize over which of the three is correct, and the wall behind you flattens you dead. Maybe the trap was a test of whether you had the nerve to open any door at all and just go. Honestly. That Minotaur. What a rotten sense of taste.

"Right. The last quiz wanted two buttons pressed at once. The answer doesn't have to be only one...!"

My head had settled it. This time, though, my body had to be the one to step out into a space I couldn't see. A wrong button had worried me too, but betting my entire body made the risk feel vastly larger. Sweat beaded on my skin for the privilege.

So I drew one deep breath and reached for a handle. Whichever my hand found first. The color didn't matter.

Rrrrrumble—!!

The oncoming wall grazed the nape of my neck. I felt the earthen surface of it and threw myself out through the door.

"Hah—!"

Thud.

I slid as if I'd gone down a chute. Past the door, what waited was the same blank white partition I'd seen at the entrance of the theme park. A white space with no theme on it at all, and the sight of it was a relief.

"Every door... was the right answer..."

The sound of the advancing wall had stopped. The tension went out of me all at once, and for a little while I just lay there.

I can see the sky.

A stretch where the ceiling was open, and through it a clear, rinsed blue. I let out a hollow little laugh.

...Right.

Even when I was sure I was wrong. Even when I had no confidence at all. Every choice I'd made had been correct. No — from the start, there hadn't been a wrong answer among them.

I stood, brushing the dust off myself.

"...I'm a designer. They hired me as one, so I should just do the thing I'm good at, and do it well."

They didn't recruit me to beat up strange monsters and dodge falling swords. Do I really need brute strength to rival ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a werewolf?

Rrrumble—

The thick walls of the maze were moving again. The noise of the labyrinth rearranging itself on a schedule. Ugh, I'm going to develop a trauma response to that sound!

"...!"

Ominous as it was, the result wasn't bad. The alley shifted, a new space opened, and there was Henna's bright, beaming face — the Golden Spool of Ariadne held in her hand.

"Lee-hyun! Whew, I was worried, the maze is so complicated. But we found each other safe and sound, see!"

"Yes, Henna. You're not hurt anywhere?"

"Oh, it's nothing, see. It only just grazed me!"

The end of the thread in her hand had split in two. One strand pointed at me. The other ran off down the path in the opposite direction.

"I did have to wind all the way back around. But I found you in the end, see!"

Fortunately, Henna had picked up the spool I'd dropped. When she asked it to find her colleagues and loosened the end, the thread had glanced wildly about, as if it couldn't decide where it ought to go — and then a strand had unraveled into two, pointing both ways at once.

"One of them seems to point to you, Lee-hyun, and the other to the team leader, see!"

...Right. A path can split into more than one.

"Shall we follow wherever the other strand is pointing?"

"Yes, let's go find the team leader, shall we, see!"

Luckily we didn't have far ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to go before the maze rearranged itself, and through a gap in the split wall appeared a familiar head of silver hair. Our boss looked a little tired, but he was in one piece, not a scratch on him. The leftover wet wipes from the café ought to still be in my bag. I should offer him one for his hands.

"Anything happen?"

Pascal asked it while scrubbing his bloodstained hands on the tissue I'd handed over.

Yes. A great many things. I nearly died. Twice......

But I could hardly whine in front of the team leader who'd stood and fought for his people. I made the kind of small talk that lets the air out of a room, and the three of us walked on together, warm and easy again.

"Nothing hard left now, see!"

And the rest really did come undone without a snag, because we simply followed the route the golden thread laid out and let the maze solve itself.

Fall for the trap three times and even the mechanism starts to make sense.

The first tile at the mouth of a path, right where the theme changed — if it registered weight, the trap seemed to trigger. Once we took to stepping over that tile, the danger stopped coming.

"Whoa! That's the exit!"

Beyond a straight corridor stood an open arch, and through it, the outside. Somewhere along the hours we'd been shut in the labyrinth, I'd started missing the sea. A briny salt smell drifted in through the door.

It didn't last.

Rrrrrumble—!

...The maze rearranged itself, and the place that had been the exit became a wall.

Well. No harm in taking our time getting out.

Nothing was urgent. I was about to turn and follow the golden thread's corrected route when I heard Pascal mutter.

"...Can't be bothered anymore."

Our team leader's face was perfectly calm as he swung a fist in a wide, heavy arc.

BOOM—!

......The wall came apart in an instant, under a sound far too large for the space. Rubble and dust poured down, and past them the sea was there again, the same view as a moment ago.

"Tell 'em to bill the company. Blaire'll pay."

......

Then why didn't you stop me while I was killing myself trying to get the spool back?!

Back at the company, we gathered in the conference room and sat down. Fine. However far off the leash that wolf ran, even he couldn't smash a client's entire theme park to pieces. I tried to forgive my boss on the strength of that thought, and turned my attention to the projector screen.

The team talked it over while the slide glowed on the wall.

"What if we lean into the adventure and brand it as exploring ancient ruins, see?"

"Put the weight on the thrill and take it toward a horror park."

"Or play up the maze that can't be solved, and go for something mysterious?"

Ideas went around the table. Reasonable methods, all of them, faithful to what the client had asked for.

But if we go that way, a lot of people caught under the suggestion are going to die.

Fail to solve the maze. Lose their lives in a brawl of an action set piece. Have their bodies run through by some thrilling device. Prince Bull-Head would end up slaughtering his own people with his own hands.

Isn't there another way?

I reached back for what I'd been through in the labyrinth and tried to find a solution — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a better direction, one that could actually persuade the client.

"...!"

A thought struck and stuck.

...This might actually work.

All that miserable time I'd spent tumbling around the maze hadn't been a complete waste after all. I raised my hand, quiet, and opened my mouth.

"What if we took a counterproposal back to the client?"

Planning, and design. Yes. The hour had come back around for me to do the thing I was good at.