“You’d be talking to the divisional head of Heron Tower Salesforce.”
The padlock on the door was a good-quality one of thick steel. I threaded my pick and wrench through the keyhole. “Very happy to meet you, sir. Sorry for the inconvenience, we had to do a shutdown.”
“You were only supposed to be working on the photocopiers! You’ve cut the power to the whole goddamn building!”
“Well, sir, photocopiers are a very serious matter. Do you know how many office fires every year are caused by faulty photocopying equipment?”
“Listen to me, you little shit. I know the directors of your company on a first-name basis. If you give me any more of this Health and Safety crap, or if you do anything other than get the power online right now, I am going to make personally sure you never work for EDF again and that the Home Office deports you back to whatever shithole country you crawled out of!”
“I’m very sorry to hear you feel that way, sir,” I said. “If you’d like to make a complaint, we have an automated customer service number on our website.”
“You can TAKE your customer service number and—”
The padlock came open with a click. “Just a second, sir, I’m getting some interference. You’ll have to call me back.” I hung up and tapped Block This Caller. Have they called the police yet?
No, but apparently there are people en route to the basement.
“Incoming, Cinder,” I said through the phone, then tucked it away and pulled open the door. Cold air rushed out: the corridor beyond was dark in contrast to the bright sunlight outside.
I must warn you that while some of the physical triggers have been disabled, the magical ones have not. November’s thoughts were tense. Please do not use any magic strong enough to register on magesight while inside the building. The wards are extremely sensitive.
Not planning to. I started down the corridor.
The door to the server room was blocked by a laser grid. I didn’t need November’s help this time: a brief search found a control panel, and this alarm code wasn’t as hard as the one on the door. As I did, I heard a scuffle of movement through the phone. A couple of indistinct voices were calling something; I couldn’t quite make out the words but it didn’t sound friendly. There was a thump and a thud. “Hey!” someone yelled. “What are you—?”
Thump. Thud.
“Are you punching out everyone who comes into the basement?” I asked Cinder.
“You wanted the power off, didn’t you?” Cinder said. “Wait one.”
There was the sound of a door opening and another voice. “Oi. Why isn’t—?”
Thump. Thud.
“And there I was thinking you couldn’t do subtle.”
“Move your arse. I’m running out of places to put these guys.”
I opened the door to reveal the server room. Tinted windows along the far wall looked out over the London skyline, and racks of computer equipment lined the sides. The room was shadowed and gloomy, but the hum of machinery still echoed from all around.
At the centre of the room was what must be November’s housing. The electronics were nothing special, but the magical energy radiating from it made it stand out like a searchlight. I crossed the room and bent over to study it.
You should probably be aware, November said, that the London Metropolitan Police have received a call from Heron Tower reporting a suspected terrorist attack on their power grid.
I rolled my eyes. Are the police actually buying that?
No, but they’re dispatching officers anyway. The first car should arrive in four minutes.
And yet it takes them all day to respond to a break-in. I finished running through the futures where I pulled the housing apart. I’m guessing your core functions are in the black case in the centre?
I believe so, yes. November sounded nervous.
The reason I ask is that’s the piece of equipment the blocks of plastic explosive are attached to.
Wonderful. Please tell me you know what you’re doing.
Nope.
Oh.
Don’t worry. I have no idea how explosives work, but I know what makes them go bang.
That isn’t as reassuring as you seem to believe.
All right, I said. I’d had time to analyse the mess of wires and wards around November’s core. Looks like there are three security measures still active. One electrical alarm, one magical alarm, and the explosives. Which one would you like me to work on first?
I would appreciate it very much if you could start with the explosives.
I figured. Using a screwdriver, I took apart the housing and then shone a penlight. November’s core was an irregular black box about the size of a games console. A pair of off-white blocks of plastic explosive were clamped to it, one on either side. Can you be removed from that box?
Yes, but I would prefer it if you didn’t. The loss of the components within would seriously degrade my performance. Besides, quite frankly, given the attitude you’ve demonstrated towards explosives, I’d rather not have you doing brain surgery on me with a hammer.
Fair enough. I’ll just carry the whole thing. I pulled out a backpack from my toolbox and eyeballed it to confirm that it should fit. I settled myself down comfortably and started studying the explosives. So how long have you been up here?
I’m not entirely sure, November said. My memories date back only as far as February 2, 2011. Circumstantial evidence leads me to believe that I have existed longer than that, perhaps considerably longer. I believe that those memories were deleted upon my installation here.
Yeah, that sounds like Levistus’s style, I said. So this has been your whole life? Sitting up here, receiving data, and passing it on to Barrayar or some other aide?
Essentially.
Sounds lonely.
I . . . suppose it is.
Oh, interesting.
What?
I pointed, forgetting that November probably couldn’t see. These blocks of explosive? They’re standard make, probably C-4 or a derivative. The detonators are standard too, but in addition to the wires, they’ve got a built-in ward with a low-level lightning spell. It looks like it’s set to activate on any significant magical signature. If someone uses any spell with any kind of power, an electrical charge is set off which triggers the detonators.
That’s fascinating, but would you mind removing them?
Figuring out how traps work is the hard part. Now that I knew what would set off the bombs, it was easy to disarm them. I scanned through possible futures and quickly decided that the easiest solution would be to sabotage the anti-tamper switches on the detonators, then pull them out. I found the futures where they succumbed to mechanical failure and got to work with the fateweaver.
The first police unit has arrived, November said.
“Cinder?” I said into my phone. “Cops are here.”
“No wonder with how long you’re taking.”
“Another ten minutes and you can bail. Please don’t kill anyone if you can avoid it.”