#ASCENT

The first belief was that ascent felt like flight.

It did not.

The floor pressed into his feet as it lifted away. One ice cube shifted beside another in the glass he held, tea sweetened so deep it was black. Above him, the roof of the Deliverance Galleria opened like a mechanical iris around the Ladder, panel by panel, until the sky came through and the whole of Ascension, TX spread out below him in a geometry few had ever seen from this angle.

From here he could see the amphitheater visible from below. It never emptied. Its tiny worshipers moved in and out at all hours. The Optic-Pure™ Filter smart glass always displayed a beautiful sky above, sometimes even adding in a comet or two for high-offering days. Responsive Devotion, they called it.

He had been the first to name it.

The man took a long, slow sip of tea.

The roads below branched from the center like spokes from a wheel, all of them leading back to The Root. He still remembered naming the first one Relentless Road. He couldn't help but chuckle at the foreshadowing.

He watched the world shift through the glass as the last drop hit his tongue. Placing the cup down he moved towards the diamond-glass walls. Now the sky was black, having moved past the light pollution of the city below. The horizon was no longer owned by Texas, with its curve fully visible.

Viewing docks spiraled up the Ladder every kilometer. At this height they looked like dimly lit shelf fungi climbing a black tree. Standing inside of them gave a breathtaking view of the land below, and they were even prettier from the outside. It was one of his indulgences, and he was pleased to see they had aged so well.

Most people would say they've been to space once they have been here. He could see why, and Deliverance sold it as such.

But this was nothing compared to the real thing.

By now Texas was more of a concept. Clouds looked like marble along the earth's landscape. The atmosphere was layered and surrounding the planet. The thin blue line. The Deliverance brand color was inspired from this exact view.

Five-hundred kilometers up was where they would have usually met, but tonight he felt like taking the long ride. It gave him time to think about what this next phase meant. Not that he had much of a choice, but that didn't mean he couldn't make the entire process a bit difficult.

Halo was a lot more obvious as it came into view overhead. At least, the finished quarter of it. With the lights off, it was more a void in the sky, but its ribbon cutting was soon coming.

Below, a tropical storm gathered over the Gulf, its white arms slowly wrapping around itself.

He lowered himself to sit down on the floor. Crossing each leg he stared down at the world below like it was all his. Being up this high felt impossible. Like something should snap off. They had to build shields and anti-satellite drones to deal with the old hardware and debris left behind. Now satellites travel more like traffic, given priority and told where to go by traffic control, and there was a large exclusion cylinder around the ladder.

He watched as anti-satellite drones picked off debris like popcorn. He was getting close now. The layer of held off junk became thicker every minute he ascended. It was rather ridiculous the lack of thought previous generations put into the future of space engineering. To leave this much trash, you'd think they would have felt ashamed of it.

The wall building up reminded him of his own lack of sovereignty. No matter how much he technically owned, it still wasn't enough. At the rate this was going, he saw no real way to overcome this. No matter how many vertical kilometers he claimed, he didn't own the land, and he was still paying rent to the network state.

He took a deep breath.

One day he'll own his own orbital station.

He slammed his fist onto the floor.

But not at this rate.

He felt light as the elevator kicked in its deceleration, slowing down to prepare for the last stop available. He could see Erewhon was already docked, perfectly on time. He lifted himself with both legs, rubbing his hands along his slacks, smoothing out the fabric. Those vestibular implants really made this ride seamless. Technically, he could spin around in circles forever with these things.

The doors chimed open.

"Houston."

"Victor. You've kept the lights on for me."

"You came in person over a transit request?"

"A transit request is when a man asks to move suitcases, Mr. Reiss is asking to move the future."