“There was a standby power generation emergency system, an engine-driven 1,250 kW, 480/277V, three phase generator with automatic controls.”
“You said was.”
“Yeah. There was. But it would have started up automatically when the main power went down. It had an eight-hour fuel supply. That will have gone now.”
Like the rest of the group, Jason was looking up to the top of the building.
“So, It’s Shanks’s pony or stay here, Marine Geek;”
“Shanks’s what?”
“Shanks’s pony. Use your legs. Walk.”
“Jeez. You Brits have some strange sayings.”
And so the long trek into the heavens began. Thirty-three floors would have been bad enough if they had been travelling light but, weighed down by rucksacks, it was an arduous climb. Jasmine was only six years old and did her best, but an ascent that was proving tough for the adults was almost impossible for her. She managed fourteen flights of stairs before she slumped to the floor, her little legs unable to take the strain for another nineteen flights. John, her father, started to carry her up the staircase along with his own heavily laden backpack, but gratefully accepted Eled’s offer of help. The Argon had saved Jasmine’s life in the massacre at L’Enfant Plaza and John knew that, much as he wanted to carry his daughter up to the thirty-third floor himself, Eled would hardly notice the additional weight.
By now, it had become second nature for Jason to take the lead and for Enak to follow the group from the rear, so the pair dropped into their positions without a second thought. Any threat was perceived to come from the rear, but they couldn’t just assume that the building was unoccupied and relax, Caution was definitely the better part of valour. It took over forty-five minutes for the whole group to reach the thirty-third floor; the climbers had varying levels of stamina and fitness, and those that found it easier than the others were forced to continually stop and wait for the slower members. But nobody was irritated by the frequent rest stops – recent experiences had fused the two groups together.
Jason didn’t really know what he might see upon opening the door from the stairwell at the thirty-third floor, but it didn’t really matter. He knew from checking the list of tenants in the lobby that the floor had been occupied by a large multinational insurance company’s sales division, so he wasn’t expecting anything other than a commercial environment. The centre of the floor space was taken up by the reception area, the elevator lobby, a file room and two copy work rooms. The rooms that each of the survivors were most interested in, however, were the lunch room and the restrooms – that was where any comfort lay. An outer ring of thirty-six workstation areas gave way to an outer perimeter of thirty-five small individual offices, broken only by two conference rooms on the eastern side of the building. It would probably have felt more welcoming if it had been a little more open-plan, but at least this way everybody could find some privacy if and when they wanted it.
The rest of the group exited the stairwell and half of them made a bee-line for the restrooms, bladders desperate for relief, before gathering in the reception area to agree on their next step. Once everybody had returned, Jason sat on the reception desk and addressed his small congregation.
“The main reason I wanted us to find a high-altitude refuge was so we could see if any Argons are approaching. It’s a centuries old strategy; the defenders in the old days always looked for a high geographical location, as it’s much easier for us to defend a higher position point than for them to attack one. That gives us an advantage.”
John, his daughter Jasmine having dozed off on his lap, was understandably worried about the future; he was the only one who, if it came down to the wire, had to think about someone else other than himself.
“How long do you see us staying here, Jason?”
“Maybe two or three days. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to get too settled here. I’m thinking of this place as a temporary stepping stone, until we decide where to go next. The views will give us a good opportunity to check out which is the safest direction. I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in the big city too much longer.”
The group seemed OK with that. Enak also had a strange but valid point to make.
“I think that we should be prepared in case we are attacked again, before we leave. I suggest that we unplug the electrical equipment.”
One of the Marines quipped.
“What are we going to do with them? Throw them at the Argons?”
Enak nodded.
“I sense that you are making a joke, but that is exactly what we will do. A computer monitor or computer is a primitive weapon, but it may afford you valuable seconds of life.”
DAY TWENTY
The night was peaceful, as was the group of survivors. They hadn’t been able to relax for days, and even now the sense of calm that appeared to run through the group was but a mask, hiding the true feelings of trepidation. What did the future hold for them? Could the Argons be defeated? Were they simply postponing the inevitable, trying to eke out the last vestiges of life?
Little Jasmine was the lucky one. She didn’t understand the recent events and could only take them at face value – those which her mind allowed her to remember, that is. She had seen her mother ripped apart in front of her eyes, and had almost suffered the same fate herself before being rescued by Eled. She didn’t need to remember those experiences and her young mind had taken a decision to blot out the memory. All that she was fully aware of was that her daddy was with her, and if daddy was there, then everything would be alright. He’d look after her.
Others were not so lucky. Jasmine’s father John was wracked with guilt, questioning himself as to whether there was anything he could have done to save his wife, Annette. She had suddenly gone into mother tiger mode, prepared to die in order that her daughter might live. She had put her own body between the Argon and Jasmine and paid for it with her life. To her, it wasn’t a choice and nor was it a duty. It was just Nature. Her daughter must survive, no matter the cost. John had had problems of his own, having been thrown against a wall, stunning him momentarily, and had come back to full consciousness to see the final seconds of his beloved Annette’s life as her head was ripped from her body. The next thing he remembered was suddenly seeing his daughter flying through the air towards him and his instincts took over as his arms unconsciously moved into position to catch the young child. It was only when he dived into a side room and sat down against a wall, cradling his crying daughter in his arms, that he realized that it was Eled who had hurled her away from certain death.
Samuel and his sister Miriam were struggling with their own forms of guilt. They were suddenly free of their Amish constraints, the invisible ropes that had bound them ever since their return from their respective rumspringa. Samuel had loved the enormous rumspringa parties in the woods that he had attended and was missing the opportunity to drink a beer now and again. He’d got really drunk on a couple of occasions but had certainly not enjoyed the hangover the next day, learning quickly to drink in moderation. He wasn’t craving beer, but he did like the taste, and quite fancied a cold beer after climbing all those stairs.
Miriam felt double the guilt of her brother. She hadn’t experimented with alcohol or gone to any woodland parties, but she had entered into a sexual relationship with Hannes, a young lad from the Geauga County community of Ohio. Nobody knew about this relationship – not even her brother – and nobody could ever know about it. The couple knew that it was a sin, that their parents would never have accepted the intensity of their relationship, but they couldn’t help themselves. They hadn’t intended to fall in love, much less to have suddenly found themselves exploring and enjoying each other’s bodies, but their emotions and feelings had somehow managed to ride roughshod over their strict Amish upbringing, an invisible mutual connection and desire that couldn’t be denied. Although they had both returned home to their individual communities, they’d kept in touch by using fake accounts on Facebook and WhatsApp, using cell phones that were kept hidden well away from prying eyes. They chatted at least twice a week via video call and had even tried having video-sex a couple of times.