He peeked around the corner just in time to see Sam stumble out of the Box, running. He jumped into the truck without bothering to close any of the doors and took off down the arc, then nearly took out an Authority vehicle as he half-skidded onto Rad 36 and back toward the Agora. It could only mean one thing.
Owen ducked through the outer door and motioned for the others to follow. The inner door was wide open, but it was still quite dark inside. Aaron and Tosh came in behind him, and there to the right, his back to the wall, was Hideki.
He looked up and said, “My ass is killing me.”
Tosh rushed past Owen and fell to the cement floor next to him. She threw her arms around him, laughing. “Dek! Oh, Dek, I wanted so badly to believe you were alive…”
“Glad to see you, too, Sis,” he said, patting her back. “How long was I in here for anyway?”
“Almost 12 hours,” she replied.
“Yeah, well it felt like 12 days.” He looked up at Owen and saw his right arm in the sling. “What the hell is that?”
“A new right arm,” Owen said, smiling. “It’s been an eventful day.”
“I guess so,” he said, then noticed Aaron. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Aaron,” he replied. “Here, let me help you up.”
Aaron helped Hideki to his feet while Owen helped Tosh, only to see that some of Hideki’s urine had gotten on her pant leg.
“Aw, Dek, gross!” she said.
“Sorry. Didn’t make it to the bathroom.”
“How about a corner? I count four,” Tosh said.
“A corner. Yeah, I guess that would’ve made sense,” said Hideki, scratching his chin for comic effect. “So… what did I miss?”
It was the job of Administrator Legacies to answer questions of procedure and advise the current Administrator. Without them, the Administrator had no peers. But factual information still fell to IDA. Administrator Legacies relied on the Dome’s AI. So, while it might occasionally be useful to get a past Administrator’s opinion, Elle preferred to ask IDA directly.
It was IDA that educated her about the emergency protocols, ranging from the kind you prepared for — like O2 emergencies — to the kind you didn’t. One such protocol was called Oasis.
When she first became Administrator, Elle wondered, What’s the worst that could happen? The Oasis Protocol was the answer to that question. The worst-case scenario was a catastrophic failure of a core Dome system — the Exchangers, the UV shield, the Towers, water treatment and reclamation, or the Dome itself. If any of these systems failed for more than a few days, people would start dying.
In this situation, the bulk of the citizenry would be evacuated to the Stores, which were basically airtight. They held enough oxygen and rations to last at least three months while the Authority (and any citizens it needed) worked to fix the problem. If it came to that, they had the suits. They had their own scrubbers to clean CO2 from the air and filter out any particulates. In theory, the fabric was designed to survive the Burn for several days.
But that assumed a structural failure. If the Dome was intact, the protocol didn’t offer another way out.
The suits were kept in the Emergency Command Center deep in the Stores. All she needed to do was throw them in a crate, load it into the elevator, and take them down to the transport corridor that connected the Stores to the FPC. From there she could slip inconspicuously into the FPC and let the others in.
After leaving Tosh’s unit, she went by one of the laundries and swapped her Authority blues for civilian clothes. She’d forgotten how comfortable they were. Then she piled her hair into a messy bun and made for the train.
The train to the Agora was mostly empty, making it easy for her to hide in the corner with her head down. There were a few curious looks from people who thought they recognized her, but she made few broadcasts or public appearances and didn’t really look like herself.
What Luther was doing hurt her. She didn’t love him, exactly, but she felt something. The two loneliest, most isolated, and despised people in the entire Dome had nowhere to turn for solace and companionship but to each other. She hated how much she needed him. His approval. The warmth of his body next to hers. More than anything, she hated that he was going to leave her there. Was he really content to just disappear without a word? Was IDA ready with a cover story?
The cargo docks that rimmed Arc 1 were shut down at night and the Stores below would only be a skeleton crew. She waved her arm in front of the scanner outside Dock 7 and summoned the huge service elevator, which creaked and groaned against its own weight. When the metal grate of the door slid open, she stepped inside the well-worn lift and hit the button down. A few seconds later, she stepped out into one of the wide corridors that allowed the transport of supplies up to ground level.
It occurred to her that Luther had come the same way to shut down the Exchangers.
She made her way across several aisles of the mazelike warehouse until she reached an unmarked door, which clicked open for her. She checked over her shoulder to make sure no one was around. A single person at the far end of the aisle drifted across, oblivious to her presence, and she ducked inside.
This was the ECC, the heavily fortified bunker where the Council could hide if everything went to shit. Keane had offered to take her down there on Honorary Administrator Day. It was Luther who convinced him not to. But she still wound up alone with him anyway. Luther must have known his intentions, which was why he happened upon them when he did. He was only a few minutes too late.
Lights activated and she made her way across the room, which was coated with a patina of dust. Untouched chairs and workstations sat in the same place they had since 2083, which was eerie. The silence was total save for a bank of vents along the top that exhaled a dedicated air supply. As IDA described, a heavy, vault-like door awaited along the far wall labeled “E-Suits.” She turned a steel ring that withdrew the bolt and swung it open on its beefy hinges.
The shelves and hangers were empty.
Either Luther had gotten there first and taken them or they were never there to begin with. There was no way to know for sure. But without them, they couldn’t survive the Burn. All they could do was stop Luther.
She turned and entered the Administrator’s private quarters, a combination living and meeting area that would only open for her. The scanner let her pass and she made a beeline to the far wall. A hidden latch opened a panel, inside which was a neurogun and a small box of ammunition in case the ECC was compromised. Luther wouldn’t have known about it. She loaded the weapon and put it in the small backpack she’d brought, then left and returned to the service elevator.
This time, though, she hit the button that took her only up to the roadlike transport corridor that shuttled food and personnel between the FPC and the Stores. Gondolas suspended from a track in the ceiling could move cargo or passengers back and forth in minutes. She climbed into an empty one and engaged it, and in a few seconds was going so fast that she had to turn her back to the wind. She passed one rocketing the opposite direction down the lazy left-hand curve and raised a hand in greeting.
Once it slowed and stopped, she hopped out and entered the FPC. Part of her wanted to just go after Luther right then but she’d finally earned a bit of Tosh’s trust back and wasn’t about to lose it again out of her desire to confront him. She turned right and headed back toward the entrance.
50
The fastest way to clear out the FPC was an old-fashioned fire alarm. Luther made his way around the ring to the middle and descended the stairs to the floor, where the third shift’s tedious labors were starting to wind down. No one paid him any mind, so he casually walked over to one of the support columns and popped the fire alarm. The klaxon sounded.