Janice arrived in plenty of time for the appointment. She pulled out her worn backpack and threw it across her shoulder. It was stuffed with gear, including a head lamp, extra batteries, some protein bars and water packets, just in case she did some exploring on her first day of research. She locked the car behind her, putting the swipe key card in a pocket of her UTA jump suit, tailored to her small frame. She walked up to the check-in entrance outside the Vault. The morning air was chilly.
She tucked her short black hair behind her ears, accentuating her beautiful, black Asian eyes. She wore an augmented eye implant with a tiny camera constantly recording everything she saw and heard.
She was impressed by the massive scale of the monument to Mormon religion, literally carved out of the side of the mountain. The vault had three entrances, each secured by massive Mosler doors. Her research indicated the doors had been built by the Mosler Safe & Lock Company, builders of the largest and heaviest hinged shielding doors in the world in the 20th Century.
The door to the main entrance in the center, where Janice now stood, weighed almost fourteen tons, while smaller flanking doors weighed almost nine tons each. The smaller entrances apparently were not in use and were boarded up.
The unsmiling, bored-looking tour guide, whose name tag said, “Ted,” appeared to be about 18 years old. It was ironic: the empire banned reading, but the tour guide wore an old fashioned, readable name tag. He was dressed in a drab olive-green tunic and pants, his skinny arms and legs too long for the uniform. His face was covered in ugly, painful-looking pimples.
When she identified herself, Ted turned on his heels without a word and gestured for her to follow him. Hiding the security pad from her view, he entered a long code and opened the center door. Janice was impressed with the level of skills needed to balance the huge doors, which opened easily and without a sound. As they walked down the entry way, Janice looked up at the 300-ft. overhang of solid granite. An impressive feat of excavation between 1958 and 1963 at a cost of $2 million, the vault consisted of two main areas: office and laboratory section and storage chambers farther back in the mountain.
What she did not know, and why she was here, was whether the current administrator of the tourist attraction had discovered all six chambers in the storage area. Per her research, only three chambers were currently in use, which probably meant three had not yet been discovered and might be possible storage areas for contraband books.
During the war, a terrorist unsuccessfully tried to use explosives to destroy “infidel” records by blowing himself up inside the administrative section. Rumor was, some chambers had been damaged. Using her research credentials from the university, she hoped to gain access to the vault to explore.
The vault was built by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, or Mormons, as a storage place for millions of genealogy records. Mormons believed it their responsibility to bind together ancestral lines of kinships by what they called “sealing ordinances,” such as baptism, to assure salvation of their dead. Thus, the reason for genealogy records so they knew who still needed eternal salvation. Once they knew, they could baptize themselves on their behalf.
Prime Minister Altero declared Mormonism illegal in 2095, and ordered the vault turned into a tourist attraction with any remaining records destroyed. Mormons who refused to sign an oath of allegiance to his government were forced into prison camps, sterilized and given B-chips to control their thoughts and behaviors. Millions of Mormons fled Utah and disbursed to Mexico City, keeping their beliefs under wraps.
Janice spent two days after her arrival in Salt Lake City inside the old Hall of Records doing microfiche records research on the Vault. Mormons had been extremely paranoid about security of the vault and she had a hard time finding maps or any details on the interior of the facility.
She had a one-month sabbatical from UTA for research on the vault for a possible video and class on underground vaults in the empire, a cover story for looking for places to hide books.
She looked around as she walked behind the tour guide down a vast hall to the administrator’s office, their footsteps echoing in the huge chamber carved into the side of the mountain. From the amount of dust on scattered pieces of antique furniture and lack of any sign of tourists, it was clear it was not a popular tourist destination. Which would make the exploration much easier; less chance of someone figuring out what she was really doing. Plus, it made it a more likely area for hiding books.
Since formation of the Book Liberators, Janice successfully established book depository sites in every Province. She was careful to only allow cell leaders and council members know locations in their specific areas; only she knew the locations of all book sites. Selected locations always had at least two chambers. In front chambers rebels stored less important books or duplicates of more valuable books in back chambers. In many cases caves had more tunnels branching off main tunnels, ideal for more places to hide valuable books. Any hidden entrance to back chambers was known only by one person in each cell. If OCB forces discovered a storage location, a designated cell member was to blow up the front entrance, hopefully securing a hidden back entrance to more valuable books. She made sure her tiny camera recordings were destroyed showing any tunnels chosen for book storage.
She was awakened from her reverie as Ted knocked on the door of an office with a sign saying, “administrator” on it. When no one answered, he knocked again, harder.
“He sometimes takes a nap about now,” Ted shrugged, his adolescent voice cracking.
“What?” a sleepy voice yelled from behind the door. “What do you want?”
“It’s your 10 o’clock appointment, sir.”
“Oh, right, just a minute.”
The load squeak of a chair broke the silence. The door opened and a massively obese man of indeterminate age, probably well over 400 pounds and just under six-feet tall, towered over Ted and Janice. The scowl on his face did not seem to faze Ted. Sweat beaded his bald head, which he attempted to cover with wisps of black, obviously dyed hair. He wore a park ranger uniform at least two sizes too small, stained with sweat. His feet were shoved into loafers, fat overlapping and making them look tiny on his feet. Looking up at him, Janice could not begin to count the number of chins he had under layers of fat.
“Sir, this is the researcher from University of Texas you were expecting.”
“Come right in. Dr. Wu, I’m assuming? I’m Supervisor Jackson. Ted, get back to your post.”
Without a word, the tour guide turned around and headed back.
“Yes,” Janice replied with a smile plastered on her face. “I’m Dr. Wu. I appreciate your taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me,” doing her best to keep a note of satire out of her voice. It was her biggest negative trait; one she struggled with all the time. Using satire instead of being forthright somehow seemed easier. Fortunately, not everyone heard the satire.
As the man turned and walked back into the tiny office, Janice was almost overwhelmed by the smell of perspiration and indolence permeating the air. Trying not to show her disgust, she waited until Supervisor Jackson eased himself into an obviously too small chair before saying anything. She wanted to leave his cramped and smelly quarters as quickly as possible.
“I don’t want to interfere with your work, Supervisor Jackson, so I’ll be brief. You should have received notice from the university I was coming, along with an overview of my work. I am expecting you to provide unlimited access to all areas of the Vault while I’m here.”
“Normally we do not allow it,” he replied, “but your impeccable credentials speak for themselves. And, of course, I’m hoping you will include me in the video I understand you will be making.”
Taking for granted her affirmation, he reached across his ample stomach into the desk drawer in front of him, grunting with effort. Remnants of several meals cluttered his desk. A single waste receptacle in the room overflowed with trash from other meals.
“Here is your
security badge. Wear it always. You can use it to swipe security pads in each of three chambers. Hold out your vid-phone and I’ll upload a map of the vault. Stay away from any areas with flashing red lights. It means those areas have cave-ins. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt, you know. Anything else you need, talk to Ted and he’ll get it for you. He’ll show you an empty office where you can work, too, in case you need it. Don’t have any type of sleeping or eating accommodations here; you’ll need to go back into town for those.”
“Thank you, Supervisor Jackson. I’m confident I’ll be able to stay out of your way. I expect my research will last no more than a few weeks. Oh, and by the way, some students from the university are apt to show up asking for me. I’ll check in with you periodically to see if they arrived. They can just wait in whatever office you give me until I return from any research I might be doing.”
“Hey,” Supervisor Jackson said indignantly, “Nobody said nothin’ about nobody else comin’!”
“I assure you they will be no problem. They will help me with my research, probably for not more than a day or two. You won’t even know they are here, I assure you.”
And that’s all it took. Evidently security was lax. She was confident Ted and Supervisor Jackson would be no problem. Janice was anxious to leave Supervisor Jackson’s office. As soon as the door was closed behind her, she took a deep breath of air much cleaner than what she had been breathing inside his office.
Janice walked back to the entrance and asked Ted to show her to the office Jackson mentioned. Without a word, he turned on his heels and headed back past the supervisor’s office and down a long corridor. At the end of the corridor he unlocked an office, gave her the old key, and left. Evidently all lights connected to motion sensors since they came on as she walked into the office.
Surprisingly, the office was larger than the supervisor’s. Guess he did not want to walk so far, she thought to herself as she surveyed the room. Furniture included two large tables, some empty metal filing cabinets, a large desk and a rather uncomfortable looking, old-fashioned swivel chair. She guessed the furniture was from the last century. Everything was coated with dust and walls were painted a drab beige. She decided to do some exploring before cleaning.
Janice had not told the supervisor, but she already had a detailed map of the vault, one she found and printed from the microfiche archives in Salt Lake City. It showed all six chambers. She walked over to a somewhat clean table and pulled up the supervisor’s map on her vid-phone, comparing it to the microfiche version. Perfect! The supervisor’s map did not show the other three chambers.
She called up a magnifying program on her augmented eye implant and peered down at the old map. She traced her finger along each chamber, comparing it to the vid-phone map. Both maps showed an exit off chamber two coming out on the northwest side of the mountain, probably a distance of about a half a mile. If there was one back door, maybe there were more. She looked more carefully at the old map. The exit from chamber two came out on the edge of Little Cottonwood Canyon, north side of the mountain, but it was hard to tell how far it was from the south side entrance of the vault to the canyon. If there was another exit, there was no way of knowing if it went straight through the mountain or if it made any turns and exited further east on the canyon. If there were other exits, they weren’t showing on the old map.
She needed to check out the known exit to see if it might be possible for BL members to move books into the chamber from the back, rather than front. It might be a longer trek, but it was probably safer and less visible than the front entrance, especially if Jackson wasn’t using it for anything. There might also be branches off the known tunnel exit.
She looked at her self-winding watch. Because she was underground so much, solar watches did not always hold a long enough charge. She found the old watch in an antique shop. It worked great and even had a light on it, if she needed it. It was now 11 am; time enough to explore. She turned off her vid-phone to conserve charge.
Janice picked up the backpack, stuffed the old map into it and fished around for a protein bar. She munched on it as she headed toward the chambers marked on the tourist map. Along the way, she noticed an old-fashioned vending machine with some bottled water inside. Apparently, coins were not needed as the door stood wide open. She grabbed several bottles, stuffing them into her backpack, and kept walking.
She walked through the administrative hall, past old laboratories where genealogy documents had been reviewed and preserved, to the first of three chambers. She saw no one else as she walked. At one point, she saw an area roped off with flashing red lights and barricades, but it looked like the ceiling had fallen rather than a chamber entrance collapsing. The whole place was eerie, almost ghostly. She heard only her own footsteps in the cavernous rooms. She thought about the Mormons who worked here, probably now dead because of their faith. Although she did not call herself religious, she respected the rights of others to worship as they saw fit; another source of disagreement with the empire.
She came to what appeared to be a dead end. As she recalled from the map, the first of three chambers were straight ahead of her, with two branching off. For a moment, she was stumped. She looked down at the bottom of the arched galvanized steel wall covering rough-hewn granite and saw faint traces of where a large door scraped against the floor. She reached up and carefully touched the wall.
Voila! As she touched the wall, a security pad appeared. Taking the security badge Jackson gave her, she swiped it in front of the pad. She stepped back as a large, apparently seamless, door suddenly began to open in front of her. With only a slight sound as it moved across the floor, the seven-foot door swung open and she stepped through. Lights came on, like the lights in the temporary office assigned to her.
In the room sat rows of filing cabinets, each six-feet high; all empty. Many cabinets had broken drawers lying in front of them in large piles. Apparently, the microfiche contents were stolen and probably destroyed. What a waste of incredible research and historical documents. She shook her head at such devastation and moved forward down the main aisle. Her research said each chamber was 190-feet long, 26-feet wide and 25-feet high.
As she always did when exploring, Janice pulled out an invisible, florescent ink marking pen and placed an “X” every ten feet; she could find her way out in case lights went out. Her head lamp picked up florescent markings. Everywhere she looked, everything looked identical so there was nothing to use as landmarks. As she got to the end of the main corridor, she saw it branched off in opposite directions: those undoubtedly led to chambers two and three. Per the archive map, chambers four through six were somewhere behind chamber three. Off chamber two was where the outside exit appeared to be on both maps.
Janice methodically made a circuit completely around the first chamber, touching the wall every few feet to look for other hidden doors. None of the filing cabinets sat against the walls but lined up in the center of the room. Nothing. She went back to where branches to chambers two and three should be located and headed down the hallway.
As with chamber one, the door was invisible to the naked eye. Now she knew what to look for chamber two was easy to find. She again swiped her security badge and the door silently opened. She started to enter, but realized the lights were already on. That’s odd. Maybe there was someone else inside. Cautiously she entered, the door silently closing behind her. She stopped just inside the door when she heard murmured conversation on her left. Who was in here? She carefully looked around the first large group of filing cabinets and saw scruffy men carrying boxes into a chamber hidden behind the wall. Silently she moved forward, wanting to see what was going on. Suddenly there was a familiar smell behind her.
If she had not already passed the first cabinet, Supervisor Jackson might have seen her as he came through the chamber door. She quickly ducked down, hiding behind a stack of empty drawers on the floor.
“Hey,” Jackson yelled as he shuffled past her hiding place. “You guys are
supposed to be out of here by now. What’s takin you so long? We have a visitor somewhere in the vault and I don’t want her to see you.”
Janice saw between the jumble of drawers a big, surly man, with a ragged scar on his face running from his left eye down to the corner of his mouth. He stood up from where he was bent over to pick up a box.
“Don’t worry, boss. We’re just finishing. No way in hell anybody’ll find us. This here is the last box of drugs.”
“Well, get it done. Meet me at the exit, other side of the mountain tomorrow at midnight with full payment, less your cut.”
Jackson’s voice suddenly turned vicious. “And don’t even dream of takin’ more than we agreed upon. Last guy who tried to cross me I boarded up alive inside a spur off this chamber.”
He turned and waddled back toward the entrance, never glancing toward where Janice was hidden. The door closed behind him. Janice waited to stand up until she did not hear anything more from the men and she saw the hidden exit close. Although unnerved by what she saw and heard, her biggest concern now was to decide what to do with the information. At least she knew for sure spurs connected off the first exit.
She stepped out from behind the stack of broken filing cabinets and started toward the door where Jackson exited. She stumbled as her foot connected with the edge of a drawer; the entire stack shifted and fell with a crash, right where she had been hiding. As she reached the door, somebody grabbed her by the backpack.
“Where you think you’re goin’ missy?” A deep voice snarled.
It was scar guy. Without even thinking about it, Janice slipped out of the backpack, twirled and landed a karate kick right on his nose. He yelled, stumbled backwards as he grabbed his broken nose, blood spurting between his fingers. Janice continued her attack, running toward him, jumping and landing two vicious chops to both sides of his neck. The big guy went down with a crash, but two more men emerged from the hidden entrance, apparently having heard scar-guy’s yell.
The White Warrior Page 7