“Okay?” Lukas hissed.
Sims held the headset out to Lukas. “He wants to speak to you. I’m sorry. He knows it isn’t him.”
Lukas groaned. He tucked the radio under his arm, Juliette’s voice tiny and distant, and pulled on the headset, slick with sweat.
“Hello?”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Bernard is… I couldn’t reach him.”
“He’s dead. Was it an accident, or was he murdered? What’s going on over there? Who’s in charge? We’ve got no feeds over here.”
“I’m in charge,” Lukas said. He was painfully aware that Sims was studying him. “Everything is just fine over here. I can have Bernard call you—”
“You’ve been talking with someone over here.”
Lukas didn’t respond.
“What did he tell you?”
Lukas glanced at the wooden chair and the pile of books. Sims followed his gaze, and his eyes widened at the sight of so much paper.
“We’ve been talking about population reports,” Lukas said. “We put down an uprising. Yes, Bernard was injured during the fighting—”
“I have a machine here that tells me when you’re lying.”
Lukas felt faint. It seemed impossible, but he believed the man. He turned around and collapsed into the chair. Sims studied him warily. His Security chief could tell that things weren’t right.
“We’re doing the best we can,” Lukas said. “Everything’s in order over here. I am Bernard’s shadow. I passed the Rite—”
“I know. But I think you’ve been poisoned. I’m very sorry, son, but this is something I should have done a long time ago. It’s for the good of everyone. I truly am sorry.” And then, cryptically and softly, almost as if to someone else, the voice uttered the words: “Shut them down.”
“Wait—” Lukas said. He turned to Sims, and now they looked helplessly at one another. “Let me—”
Before he could finish, there was a hissing sound above him. Lukas glanced up to find a white cloud billowing down from the vents. An expanding mist. He remembered exhaust fumes like this from long ago, back when he was locked inside the server room and the people in Mechanical tried to divert gas to choke him out. He remembered the feeling that he was going to suffocate inside that room. But this fog was different. It was thick and sinister.
Lukas pulled his undershirt over his mouth and yelled for Sims to come with him. They both dashed through the server room, dodging between the tall black machines, avoiding the cloud where they could. They got to the door that led out to IT, which Lukas figured was airtight. The red light on the panel blinked happily. Lukas didn’t remember locking the door. Holding his breath, he punched in his code and waited for the light to turn green. It didn’t. He punched it in again, concentrating, feeling lightheaded from not enough air, and the keypad buzzed and blinked at him with its red and solitary eye.
Lukas turned to Sims to complain and saw the large man peering down at his palms. His hands were covered in blood. Blood was pouring from Sims’s nose.
33
Juliette cursed the radio and finally let Walker have a try. Courtnee watched them both with concern. Lukas had come through a couple of times, but all they’d heard was the patter of boots and the hissing of his breathing or some kind of static.
Walker examined the portable. The radio had grown needlessly complex with the knobs and dials he’d added. He fiddled with something and shrugged. “Looks okay to me,” he said, tugging on his beard. “Must be on the other end.”
One of the other radios on the bench barked. It was the large unit he’d built, the one with the wire dangling from the ceiling. There was a familiar voice followed by a burst of static: “Hello? Anyone? We’ve got a problem down here.”
Juliette raced around the workbench and grabbed the mic before Walker or Courtnee could. She recognized that voice. “Hank, this is Juliette. What’s going on?”
“We’ve got… ah, reports from the Mids of some kind of vapor leak. Are you still in that area?”
“No, I’m down in Mechanical. What kind of vapor leak? And from where?”
“In the stairwell, I think. I’m out on the landing right now and don’t see anything, but I hear a racket above me. Sounds like a ton of traffic. Can’t tell if it’s heading up or down. No fire alarm, though.”
“Break. Break.”
It was another voice cutting in. Juliette recognized it as Peter. He was calling for a pause in the chatter so he could say something.
“Go ahead, Peter.”
“Jules, I’ve got some kind of leak up here as well. It’s in the airlock.”
Juliette looked to Courtnee, who shrugged. “Confirm that you have smoke in the airlock,” she said.
“I don’t think it’s smoke. And it’s in the airlock you added, the new one. Wait. No… that’s strange.”
Juliette found herself pacing between Walker’s workbenches. “What’s strange? Describe what you’re seeing.” She imagined an exhaust leak, something from the main generator. They would have to shut it down, and the backup was gone. Fuck. Her worst nightmare. Courtnee frowned at her, was probably thinking the same thing. Fuck, fuck.
“Jules, the yellow door is open. I repeat, the inner airlock door is wide open. And I didn’t do it. It was locked just a bit ago.”
“What about the smoke?” Juliette asked. “Is it getting worse? Stay low and cover your face. You’ll want a wet rag or something—”
“It’s not smoke. And it’s inside the new door you welded up. That door is still shut. I’m looking through the glass right now. The smoke is all inside there. And I… I can see through the yellow door. It’s wide open. It’s… holy shit—”
Juliette felt her heart race. The tone of his voice. She couldn’t remember Peter ever uttering a cuss word in all the time she’d known him, and she’d known him through the worst of it. “Peter?”
“Jules, the outer door is open. I say again, the outer airlock door is wide open. I can see straight through the airlock and to… what looks like a ramp. I think I’m looking outside. Gods, Juliette, I’m looking straight outside—”
“I need you to get out of there,” Juliette said. “Leave everything as it is and get out. Shut the cafeteria door behind you. Seal it up with something. Tape or caulk or something from the kitchen. Do you read?”
“Yes. Yes.” His voice was labored. Juliette recalled Lukas telling her something bad was about to happen. She looked to Walker, who still had the new portable in his hand. She needed the old portable. She shouldn’t have let him modify the thing. “I need you to raise Luke,” she said.
Walker shrugged helplessly. “I’m trying,” he said.
“Jules, this is Peter again. I’ve got traffic heading my way up the stairs. I can hear them. Sounds like half the silo. I don’t know why they’re heading this way.”
Juliette thought of what Hank had said about hearing traffic on the stairwell. If there was a fire, everyone was supposed to man a hose or get to a safe level and wait for assistance. Why would people be running up?
“Peter, don’t let them near the office. Keep them away from the airlock. Don’t let them through.”
Her mind whirled. What would she do if she were up there? Have to get in there with a suit on and shut those doors. But that would mean opening the new airlock door. The new airlock door! It shouldn’t be there. Forget the sign of smoke, the outside air was now attached to the silo. The outside air—