by Jeff Kamen
‘Right. So?’
‘Lütt, there’s eight feet of concrete between us and there and I’d suggest you’d need a lot of heat to warm the floor like that. Plus all this smoke pouring in.’
‘So?’
‘So? What the hell were you —’
‘Wait a minute. Have you seen it out there?’
‘Seen what?’
‘The troops — they’ve withdrawn, they must be running around like crazy down there. That’s what we were planning, what we were hoping for. We wanted to generate smoke and that’s exactly what’s been done as far as I know. The last thing we need is our own people panicking. Especially if it’s over nothing.’
‘Are you kidding? Over nothing?’
‘Come on, none of us knows what the situation is. We made a plan and it seems to be working, that’s as good as we’re going to get for now.’
‘Yes, but what if —’
‘Listen, Welzl. We need all the facts first. I’ve been trying to get through to him. I’ll try again now.’
‘But that’s not the point. Shit, we might not know what he did, but I can tell you right now what might happen. There’s two thousand containers there, at least, a lot of them unmarked. We started on the biggest ones to save time and one of our boys found a steel tank inside one of them. He thought it was water, and by luck, pure luck, he noticed a plaque before the door closed. Just one word printed, no transit docket, no safety notice. It said Oxtranox. Know what that is?’
Lütt-Ebbins started coughing. ‘Go on.’
‘It’s a biosolution, they use it in labs. It’s like liquid air. You can’t drown in it, you breathe normally, like a fish. You can even inject it. Use it like blood.’
‘... What did you call it?’
‘Oxtranox.’
‘What’s it doing here?’
‘No idea. When I worked in the labs, I remember they were using it for lung dev tests, part of some new medical research. It’s unique — you can fill someone’s veins with it and the subject keeps breathing as before. But what happens is, once they build back their normal blood supply, they can’t take in any more O2. It has to come out of them naturally. Otherwise you get too much oxygen in the system. As soon as you reach toxic levels, it destroys all your processes. No way back from it.’
Lütt-Ebbins pushed back his hanging hair. He looked pale, distracted. ‘Right,’ he said, trying to hold at bay the image of a shaded figure in goggles. ‘So it’s flammable, is that what you’re getting at?’
‘Flammable,’ Welzl snorted. ‘This stuff’s more like nitro. What I don’t know is its stability, we need a chemist for that. It could be safe for a while, or about to go up. The problem is the amount of it. We found more in the other big cans and I’d bet it’s in others too. If even one of them went up, it could blow us all to hell.’
‘So who do we know who could ...’ Lütt-Ebbins began, interrupted by a masked figure opening the door.
‘You’re wanted on the phone, Commander. Urgent.’
‘Who is it?’
‘Vonal, he needs you right now.’
‘Come on,’ Lütt-Ebbins said to Welzl, and they hurried out after the messenger and followed him down the corridor.
~O~
Moth was hanging in the air, yellow stripes slanting across his face like tribal markings.
The bolt which had saved him had pierced his collar, suspending him over a drop he could not look down at, could not contemplate. Straining upwards, he clawed at the vent a few feet above his head, trying desperately not to kick too hard for fear of unhooking himself. At last he managed to get a hand on the solid frame, and swinging himself upwards he let the bolt tear through the cloth. With both hands gripping the vent, he broke through the slats and stuck his head through.
An unlit room. He wormed his way into it and lay there gasping until he was ready to go on.
Across the room was a faint aura around a door. He went towards it avoiding what looked like a desk or table before stumbling into a chair on wheels that creaked away from him and went silent in the dark. As if someone had put out a hand to stop it. He waited, trying to ascertain the shapes before him, and when nothing moved, he continued to the door and listened. He opened it a fraction to find himself inhaling a cold medicinal odour he’d known very recently. The smell of terror, the smell of arrests. And something else. Smoke. He looked outside. A passage of stained concrete cells and unmarked doors. Empty both ways. He noticed smoke trailing from an open doorway. He padded across and a brief glance inside told which room it was, the desk and burnt-out computer terminal overturned in a splash of paperwork. He ran back up the passage, coughing, struggling to recall the route the guards had taken.
~O~
Throughout the Goods In corridor, alarms were blaring and warbling in the background and the air stood in a caustic grey mist.
Wounded and weeping figures appeared before Lütt-Ebbins as he followed the messenger, most slumped against the walls, all in breathing gear, their eyes glittering like steel. He saw people up ahead sealing a vent grille with tape and yelled a few questions to follow up on the pumping operation. Then he and Welzl ran on again, passing figures on ladders covering the overhead filters, through which yet more strands of smoke were spreading.
The messenger opened a door that led into a large office with departmental charts and data sets displayed on the walls. The only lights in use were desk lamps, placed variously about the torrid dusk like burning torches. A handful of earnest-looking men and women were sat at desks searching through maps and diagrams, tapping frantically at computers, whilst pooled in a dull glow in the far corner of the room was a med team gathered around a table, performing some bloody act of surgery. The team looked up briefly, then continued with the operation, a man in stained overalls muttering to his colleagues as he wiped something bladelike in the folds of a cloth.
The messenger handed Lütt-Ebbins the phone and left to continue his errands. Lütt-Ebbins sat on the desk, Welzl going to the desk opposite and leaning back against it with his arms crossed.
‘Builder? Is that you?’
‘Workman? Thank fuck for that, thought the line had gone.’
‘No, I’m here. Did Waxman and Runner make it? Did you get in okay?’
‘Affirmative, they made it. Runner’s brought Painter with him, so that’s helped us. Now listen, about this smoke. We don’t know what’s happening. Waxman says it’s coming down from the systems station. Is your man doing this?’
‘The system …’ Lütt-Ebbins said, faltering as he pictured again the descending figure, tuft-headed and strangely determined. ‘No, Builder. Negative. Our plan was focussed on the basement. I don’t know about anything else. I’d advise caution until I can speak to Climber. So far no luck in getting him.’
There was a short pause as Vonal spoke with someone, then he came back, saying, ‘Be clear, Workman, you’re saying this isn’t due to your man?’
‘No. Not to my knowledge.’
‘Runner says there’s smoke on other levels as well. Is this you or not? We don’t know what the fuck to do at the moment.’
‘I can’t speak for the other levels, I don’t know how far it extends.’
‘How far what extends?’
‘The smoke we were generating.’
‘But that’s what I’m asking. Is it your smoke or something else? I need to know right now. There’s smoke coming out all over the base and the only one who’s authorised any of it is you.’
‘That ... that was different, Builder, and it was a while ago. I think the situation may have changed.’
‘Listen to me. I need good clean intel right this second. We’ve got smoke pouring in from all sides.’
‘What’s he saying?’ hissed Welzl.
‘Give me a sec.’
‘Tell him about the Oxtranox.’
‘I … Builder, I’ll get you the information the moment I have it. We’ve got a difficult situation here too. It may be getting dangerous. We
think a fire may have started.’
‘... could have fucking told you that.’
‘Just listen a sec. We don’t have anything confirmed, we only know about our own plan. Now, the good news is it’s looking like we can move out and secure the entire level. Their people have retreated and we assume they’re dealing with the incident. The suspected fire. We don’t know for sure, but it’s likely. It means we can continue to take advantage of circumstances. That said, well, the overall risk is higher than we first thought. Have you … do you know anything about Oxtranox?’
The line crackled, and after a few moments he checked the receiver. Tapped it. He could hear drilling and hammering in the background, people coughing and wailing. ‘Builder? Builder are you there?’
‘… coming or going. You told me it was under control, now you say it’s not. Is it or isn’t it? You told me it was planned, you had a man in charge.’
‘Yes, but Builder …’
‘Those were your exact words, I’m quoting you. Now you tell me you don’t know anything. What the fuck are you playing at?’
‘Listen, Builder, this isn’t very constructive. Let’s stick to practicalities. I think we both agree there’s a need to take precautions. Is there any way you can activate the sprinkler system? Is that possible?’
There was a short pause on the line, voices hissing urgently. He heard shots being fired in rapid succession.
‘Builder?’
‘I’m here, Workman.’
‘What about sprinklers? Can you access them? Are you inside yet or not?’
‘We’re in the ops room now.’
Lütt-Ebbins recoiled. ‘What? You’re there? You’re inside?’
‘We got in a while ago.’
‘Then do it, quickly, you can put it out. Activate the sensors on all floors and see what happens.’
‘Negative, Workman, that’s not possible. We can’t do anything.’
‘Why? I thought that was the whole point of getting it built. To take control out of their hands. I thought that was the whole bloody point.’
‘Look, we can’t do anything, okay? They got in before us.’
Lütt-Ebbins was staring. ‘They … they did what?’
‘They got in first and shut us out. We had to break in with cutting gear.’
‘What?’
‘Afraid so, Workman. It’s like a fucking nightmare in here. They did a job on it. Smashed it up and fried the boards to cinders.’
‘But what … what can you do?’
‘No idea. We’ve got a few techies on the case but it’s looking bad.’
‘I see.’ Lütt-Ebbins put a hand to his brow and held it there, coughing. He wasn’t sure, but the air felt warmer to him. A few moments later there was a rasp as Vonal called for a reply.
‘I’m still here, Builder. I … I’m still here. I was wondering if you knew —’
They were cut off by an explosion that sounded as if it had ripped through the middle of the base. It sent shelves crashing from the walls and debris dropping from the ceiling. Lütt-Ebbins went down gasping, hands over his head, then looked up anxiously as a wet croak of pain rose from across the room. He saw the med team tending to the patient in a huddle, working urgently, consoling him, swabbing and wiping his half naked body, a couple of nurses passing equipment to the lead surgeon, clattering used instruments down. ‘What the hell was that?’ yelled an attendant, coughing, and then a second explosion rocked the room. Welzl threw himself to the floor as a lump of plaster crashed onto the desk about a foot from where he’d been standing. Cabinets went toppling into one another, metals doors banging open and shut. A raw scream came from the corner just as someone ran to get a dust sheet to throw over the team as they battled to keep working. The explosion continued in long rumbling blasts, throughout which a rain of plasterdust showered the desks and floor, with heavier particles dropping through a crack that ran from one end of the ceiling to the other. A few moments later, as the blasts subsided, clouds of smoke came through the same crooked opening, spreading out in tendrils. Coughing and moaning, people began picking themselves up from the floor.
‘Lütt,’ Welzl gasped, ‘we need to —’ and then the phone rang. Lütt-Ebbins sprang up and grabbed it. ‘I’m here,’ he panted, watching as the med team regrouped and checked on each other.
‘... can’t see ...’
‘Builder?’ he yelled into the mouthpiece. ‘Builder, are you okay? Builder? Do you read me?’
‘… spreading … can’t fight it …’
‘Builder, I can’t hear you properly. The blast, where was it? Was it them?’
‘… spreading everywhere. We need to get out …’
‘Repeat that, Builder. We need to know what that noise was. We need to know what’s happening on other floors. Do you have any idea?’
‘The Oxtranox. You have to tell him.’
Lütt-Ebbins nodded. ‘Builder, there’s another thing, I’m not sure you caught it before. We have a consignment of Oxtranox down here. It’s highly flammable. Do you know anything about it? Can you assist?’
‘Hold on.’ Vonal screamed an order to someone and a dull thudding could be heard before the receiver crackled again. ‘Workman, we have multiple fires breaking out. Repeat your last.’
‘I ... I said we have a consignment of Oxtranox down here. Oxtranox. It’s flammable and we need to know more about it. Do you have a chemist there? Can anyone assist?’
There was a slight delay, then Vonal said, ‘Where is it?’
‘It’s in our area. That’s all I’d better say.’
‘How much is there?’
‘He asked how much.’
‘I’d bet twenty containers at least. All big cans.’
‘Possibly twenty large containers.’
‘Tell me you’re joking.’
‘I’m not joking, Builder.’
There was a silence.
‘Builder?’
‘Are they ... vicinity of the fire?’
‘Are they near it? Well, yes, in a way. The floor’s heating under them.’
There was a loud crackle, then Vonal said, ‘… to me very carefully. What’s the floor temperature at the moment?’
He cupped the receiver. ‘How hot is it?’
‘At least sixty in places. I’ll send someone to check.’
‘Minimum sixty degrees C in places. We’re going to check.’
There was a short silence.
‘... Builder?’
‘All right, listen. We’re on our way down. I need you to get a full evacuation underway, and quickly.’
‘What? What are you talking about?’
‘Workman, if we’re not out of here before that stuff reaches ignition point, we’ll be roasted alive.’
‘Right, yes, I ... I understand, but evacuate how? Where the hell to?’
‘Get a train ready with a driver in place. We’ll have to fight our way down to you and go. There’s no time for —’
‘Builder, wait. Wait a minute. We can’t. We can’t just leave like that.’
‘I don’t want this any more than you do, I’ve got everything staked on this place, but there’s no choice. Just get it organised.’
‘I understand, Builder, I hear you loud and clear, but there’s no way we can leave right now. There are no trains here. Repeat, there are no trains in the station.’
There was a short silence. Another muffled thud filled the background.
‘What do you mean? Where are they?’
Lütt-Ebbins clawed back his hair, eyes shut tight. ‘Everything’s gone to the City. Everything. A few officers seized the last train and drove it out before we got here.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s fucking sake. I’ll try to get hold of Sachs, see if he can send one down to you.’
‘Careful with names, Builder. Look, I’ll see what we can do to clear a path for your team. But I’m not sure —’
‘Got to go. If you can’t get a train here, we’ll go on foot down the tunn
el. Try and call a ceasefire. Get a message to Reizeger, reason with him, do whatever you have to do.’
As the line cut, Lütt-Ebbins shook his head.
‘He wants us to go,’ said Welzl, coughing. ‘Is that right?’
‘He’s ordered a full evac. Help me spread the word. We’ll need emergency kits circulated. See everyone gets one, prisoners too. No exceptions.’
‘You want the other cans checked ?’
‘Good idea. Best we know what we’re dealing with.’
Before they left the office, Lütt-Ebbins circulated the message among the other occupants, then left Welzl to go ahead of him as he tried his radio. He punched through every available channel, but what he picked up was garbled, a howl of electronic noise. Finally, on reaching a clearer tone, he said to the mouthpiece, ‘Climber? Climber, it’s me. Workman. I’m calling you very urgently. Lives depend on it. Call me wherever you are. And whatever the news, you understand?’ He shook the Stubbie. ‘Climber? Climber, do you read me?’ He waited, then stood cursing as the radio’s lights went out.
When he caught up with Welzl, his comrade was appointing deputies and outlining the first phase of the evacuation procedures. They exchanged a few words, then Lütt-Ebbins called for calm, called for everyone to listen. The explosions had provoked the corridor’s inhabitants into a frightened mob and he explained that all he could do for the moment was arrange for them to be contained in the offices whilst plans were put into action. Yet in spite of the disquiet, some stood firm, even offering their services. Without wasting a moment, he appointed some of these people to relay communications to the enemy headquarters using whatever means they could find. Other volunteers he asked to sort through the supplies in the jeep trailer, then to distribute them equitably. After that, he told them he needed a party to accompany him across the station. ‘To reach the control tower,’ he explained. ‘The safest way at the moment is to go across the tracks — it’s less exposed than the concourse. However, the tracks may be live. And there may be troops lying in wait in the other offices. It’s a huge risk for anyone, but I also need to say this. Unless we get a train into Van Hagens, we risk not only our own lives, but all lives on the base.’
Many in that foggy tide turned muttering to one another. A few raised hands.