by Tom Abrahams
“I cannot determine your DiaTab location,” it said. “Please be certain your Li-Fi connection is active. If it is not, I can adjust it at your request. Would you like me to adjust your Li-Fi connection?”
The image of Van Cleaf in a control room sat idle on the screen. Her recorded avatar was awaiting his response. Clearly, it wasn’t going to answer anything about building five. The people in charge didn’t want information about that structure available to the herd. Clayton ignored the question and tried again to locate the mechanical access to building five’s elevator. This time he asked for the information without mentioning building five.
“Where are the emergency exits?” he asked. “Where do they connect with surface exits?”
The system whirred for a moment, then responded as requested. The screen revealed a three-dimensional schematic that gave him an implausible and complicated path to freedom and took him back to the screen where he’d been previously.
“Where is the elevator’s mechanical access?”
A glowing circle immediately flashed at the bottom of building five.
“Please magnify.”
The schematic grew in size and zoomed into the bottom floor of building five. Clayton leaned in, not sure that he was reading the schematic description correctly. He rubbed his finger across the screen and then ran it up the wide elevator shaft to the top floor of building five. A smile spread across his face.
The elevator in that building was wide enough for freight. In fact, the schematic labeled it as such. On the top floor was a level labeled GARAGE.
If Clayton could find his way there, he might not only escape, he might have a ride home. It was a long shot. But there it was: hope.
CHAPTER 13
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29, 2020, 11:40 AM MST
DENVER, COLORADO
Vihaan Chandra’s thighs rubbed together, burning, and he adjusted himself as he walked. Much more friction and he worried he might catch fire. His belly jiggling, he moved as fast as he could toward Bert Martin’s room. It was also in building three, but on the opposite end of the floor from his. He licked a bead of cold sweat from his upper lip and hurried past a uniformed guard. If anything, the apocalypse would force him to lose the weight he’d gained after his wife’s death. It hadn’t happened yet. He told himself he was merely retaining water.
Chandra’s eyes swept back and forth, suspiciously checking over his shoulder with each man he passed. People were on their way to lunch and it was more crowded than he’d seen it previously.
He located Martin’s room, according to the Telenet directory, and knocked on the door. He checked over his shoulder, bouncing in place like a little boy who had to go to the bathroom.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” he whispered. “Answer the door.”
On cue, Bert Martin opened his door. His hair was wet and tousled, and he was wearing a T-shirt and some sweatpants, his feet bare. He smiled at Chandra and pointed at him. “The weatherman, right?”
“Yes. Vihaan Chandra.”
Martin snapped his fingers. “Right. Vihaan. I remember. Good to see you, mate. Everything good?”
Chandra looked over his shoulder. “So sorry to just show up, but could I come in?”
Martin shrugged. “Sure.”
Chandra moved past Martin into the room. He walked to the back of the space, which was identical to his own, and then back toward the door when Martin closed it. The door hummed and clicked as it locked.
Martin shuffled toward the desk and dipped his hands into his pockets, leaning his shoulder against the wall. He was quiet for a moment and then reached out and stopped Chandra from pacing.
“You okay?” he asked. “You don’t look okay.”
Chandra took a step back from Martin in the small space between the desk and the wall. He planted his hands on his hips and then ran his fingers through his hair. Finally he crossed his arms in front of his chest and exhaled loudly, searching for the words. He couldn’t trust Bert Martin. He didn’t know him, really. He moved toward the door.
“I shouldn’t have come,” Chandra said. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
Martin chuckled. “Well, now you’ve piqued my interest. You can’t leave without giving me a nibble of the bait, now can you?”
Chandra stopped at the door and turned around. “I’m just not sure who I can trust and who I can’t,” he said. “We aren’t friends. I’d hate to put you in an awkward position. It’s best if I go. Just forget I came here, okay?”
The smirk evaporated from Martin’s face. A look of concern replaced the mild amusement. “Now you’ve worried me, mate.”
Chandra sighed and his shoulders drooped forward in exasperation. He looked at Martin, studying the man’s face. There was no telling what he was thinking. Chandra wasn’t that intuitive. His wife used to tell him that unless the data was staring him in the face, he’d miss it.
“All right,” said Chandra, “what does it matter? I’ll end the suspense.”
“Good on you,” said Martin. “Go ahead.”
Chandra started pacing again. He talked with his hands as he explained to Martin what he’d experienced, what he’d learned. He told the Australian about the exclusion of billions of people and how those in charge, whoever they really were, wanted most of the world’s population to die off. They wanted to start fresh with bountiful resources and less human pollution. The whole thing smacked of an Orwellian coup predicated on an “advantageous” catastrophic event or events. When he was finished with his incredible story, he stopped pacing and stood in front of Martin, picking at the fabric of his pants above his knees.
“You think I’m crazy?” he asked. “You think I’ve lost it?”
“No,” said Martin. “I don’t.”
Chandra sighed with relief. “Really? I know it sounds so fantas—”
“I already knew most of what you told me.”
Chandra’s jaw dropped. He found himself struggling for words, as if he were choking on air. He stepped back from Martin, bumped against the bed, and lost his balance. He fell back onto the bed and pushed himself up with his elbows, still unable to speak.
Martin stepped toward the bed. “All of us knew,” he said. “I’m surprised you didn’t. We all have special skills the new society will need once we resurface.”
Chandra slid to the edge of the mattress. “I don’t understand. You knew?”
Martin answered, but Chandra didn’t hear him. He was thinking back to the welcome reception in the cafeteria. Nobody around him seemed surprised when the speakers talked about their predicament. Nobody was upset or asking anxiety-laced questions.
They all knew. Everyone but him.
Martin was still talking when Chandra refocused on his host. “—did you not know?”
“What?” asked Chandra.
“How did you not know? I thought everybody was briefed twenty-four hours before the transport here. We all knew about the second CME. We knew what to pack and what to leave behind.”
Chandra’s mind drifted again. He recalled his breathless meeting with Chip Treadgold after he’d first discovered the existence of a second CME. Treadgold had acted as if it were news to him.
“Another geomagnetic storm, bigger than a G5, is on its way,” he’d told his boss.
Treadgold had sunk back into his chair, pretending to worry. “You’re certain?” he’d asked. “What’s the Kp index?”
Chandra had stood there, data in hand, and reluctantly relayed the truth. “Well above a nine.”
“Holy mother,” Treadgold had said. “How long do we have?”
Chandra recalled the meeting and how his boss had lied to him. He’d known all along that the second CME was coming. Hundreds of people already knew, and he’d feigned ignorance and surprise when Chandra had confronted him with the information.
Bert Martin waved his hand in front of Chandra’s face. “You there, mate?”
Chandra blinked back to the present, anger swelling in his chest. He rose to his feet a
nd tightened his hands into fists. He looked Martin in the eyes.
“I didn’t know,” he said through his teeth. “I didn’t know what this was. All I knew was that I’d have a chance at surviving the second CME. I didn’t realize I’d be trapped down here while innocent people were systematically abandoned.”
Martin took a step back, his brow furrowed with concern. His eyes narrowed and danced aimlessly around the room. “What do you mean trapped?”
Chandra shook his fists. “We can’t leave! We are not allowed to leave. I already told you this.”
Martin cocked his head sideways. “That’s not true,” he said, seemingly trying to convince himself. “I mean, who would want to leave? But you’re wrong. This place was designed to keep people out, not the other way around.”
“I’m not wrong,” said Chandra. “It was designed to keep people inside. And that’s why I’m here asking for your help. I need to get out of here.”
“My help?” he said.
“You’re a security expert, right?” said Chandra. “You told me you helped put together the security for this place and—”
Martin waved his hands and backed farther away from Chandra, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I can help you. I don’t have access to shutting off what needs to be shut off for you to circumvent—”
“I don’t need you to shut it off,” Chandra said. “I just need to know how I can get out. Please help me.”
Bert Martin was the one pacing now. He drew a hand to his mouth and marched toward the bathroom, retracing his steps to the door. “We didn’t design the system to trap people. We were told it was to keep people out. I don’t understand. Why would they lie to us?”
Chandra smirked. “A better question is ‘Why would they tell us the truth?’”
Martin made another pass from one side of the room to the other, mumbled something unintelligible, and disappeared into his bathroom.
“Will you help me?” Chandra called to Martin.
Martin emerged from the bathroom with a towel over his face. He exhaled into the fabric and drew the towel over his head, draping it around his neck. His face was flushed.
“I don’t like liars,” said Martin, gripping both ends of the towel at his shoulders. “I don’t like being lied to. I hope you’re not the one who’s lying here, Dr. Chandra.”
Chandra stood up. “I’m not lying.”
Martin squeezed his eyes closed and crinkled his nose. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll help you.”
Chandra smiled and offered his hand to the security expert. “Thank you.”
“You better go,” said Martin. “If they’re as sneaky as you say they are, they’re probably listening to our conversation right now. But I have one question for you.”
“Anything.”
“Even if they are lying to us,” said Martin, “even if they are trapping us inside, why would you want to leave? It’s got to be worse out there.”
“I don’t know. But at least out there I have free will. I’d rather die on my feet than on my knees.”
Martin crossed to the door, opening it. “I’ll figure something out and find you. How soon do you need this?”
“Yesterday.”
Martin shut the door behind Chandra after the scientist exited the room.
Chandra navigated the corridors back to his room, looking at the floor as he moved. He worried about exposing himself. Bert Martin was probably right; they could be watching and listening.
He was turning the final corner toward his room when a soft voice called his name. Chandra looked up. Standing outside his room was Sally. She was smiling and waving.
“What are you doing here?” asked Chandra.
Sally stepped back, her smile disappearing. “Well, hello to you too.”
Chandra softened, if only to find out what she wanted with him. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just surprised to see you, that’s all.”
Sally folded her arms across her chest. “Oh,” she said flatly. “I came to see if you wanted to walk with me to work.”
Chandra studied her face. She appeared sincere. But he’d told her earlier when he left her that he was heading to work.
“Why?” he asked, not sure what else to say.
Sally huffed. “Never mind then, Vihaan.” She spun on her heels and marched away, genuinely offended.
Chandra cursed himself for doubting her sincerity. “Sally,” he called after her. “Sally, stop.”
Sally stopped and turned around. “I’ll see you at lunch, Vihaan. If you’re in a better mood, you can sit with me. If not, don’t bother.”
She continued along the hall toward the path to the elevator. Chandra watched her quick, frustrated steps carry her until she disappeared around the corner. He held his key to the door and slid into his room. He grabbed his lab coat from a hook on the bathroom door. It was time for work.
CHAPTER 14
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29, 2020, 1:41 PM CST
JOHNSON SPACE CENTER, HOUSTON, TEXAS
“What do you mean we’re leaving?” Marie whined. “We just got here.”
Jackie looked at the faces of everyone who’d slept in the small office. All of them, except for Nikki, shared her daughter’s dumbfounded gaze.
“You brought us here to keep us safe,” said Nancy Vickers. “You said it was safer here.”
Betty Brown stepped forward, rubbing the back of her arms with her hands, as if she were trying to keep warm. “I agree with Nancy. You told us this place was better.”
“People died in your house, for goodness’ sakes,” added Nancy.
Betty raised her voice. “That’s right. People died. There’s blood on the floor. There are holes in the walls.”
“I think my ears are still ringing from the gunfire,” said Nancy.
Pop Vickers put his arm around his wife’s back and pulled her toward him. His eyes were sad. “Jackie,” he said softly, “I’m confused too. We picked up and dragged ourselves here less than twenty-four hours ago. It makes no sense.”
Jackie’s eyes drifted to Brian Brown. He was sitting on a desk, his hands gripping the sides of the desktop as he rocked back and forth. His lips were pressed flat, his eyes staring off into some imaginary distance. His mother, Betty, was rubbing her arms with nearly the same cadence as Brian’s rocking.
Nancy, a reasonable woman, wore the confusion on her drawn face. Her eyeliner was smudged, her cheeks sunken and pale. The sagging skin at her neck was more evident.
Jackie’s own children stared at her in disbelief. Marie and to a lesser extent Chris frequently rolled their eyes at her suggestions or guidance. They feigned aggrievedness when they didn’t get their way. This was different. They were seriously bothered. Jackie, as only a mother could, felt the growing distance between herself and her children.
Jackie sighed. “I just think—”
“We know what you think, Jackie,” said Betty. “You’ve made it very clear. We just—”
“I agree with Jackie,” Nikki interrupted. “We should leave. We should go back to her house or even the Vickerses’ house. We shouldn’t stay here.”
Betty’s eyes scanned Nikki from head to toe and back again. “Of course you agree with her.”
Nikki visibly tensed. “What is that supposed to mean, Betty?” she snapped.
Betty shrugged, apparently unfazed by Nikki’s aggression. “I’m just saying you’re a stranger. You have nowhere to go. You’re going to hitch your wagon to the—”
Nikki clenched her fists and her jaw. She took a giant step toward Betty and jabbed her finger inches from the woman’s nose. “Don’t test me, woman. I’m grateful for your trigger pull in the house. That’s where my love for you and your incessant complaining ends. I’m not going to—”
Jackie put her hand on Nikki’s shoulder. “Stop. It’s fine.”
Nikki relaxed. “It’s not fine,” she muttered.
“Here’s the thing,” Jackie said. “My kids and I can stay here as long as we want to be here.
The rest of you can’t. You’ve got a few days at best, okay? Then somebody is going to kick you out or force you somewhere you don’t necessarily want to be.”
“So we stay here until that time,” offered Pop. “Why not do that? Why not stay here until things start to get back to normal? A week or two, and we see where things stand. NASA will give us that, won’t they?”
“It’s going to get worse out there,” said Jackie. “No help is coming. The power is not coming back. We will be on our own eventually. I think it’s better to get back to our neighborhood and regroup.”
“Shore up our defenses,” added Nikki. “Make sure that when the shi—”
“So you wasted our time and energy by coming here to begin with,” said Betty. “I just don’t understand the logic.”
Jackie bit her lower lip, considering how to respond. “I did what I thought was best, Betty,” she said softly, “and it’s exactly what I’m doing now.”
Nikki looked at Jackie and stepped to Betty. “What would you do, Betty?” she said firmly.
“It’s okay, Nikki,” said Jackie. “I don’t need you to defend me.”
Nikki waved her off and glared at Betty. “No, it’s not okay. You’re not some Special Forces guru with a crystal ball and a flamethrower. You are doing the best you can. And so I am asking Betty Crocker here what she would do if she were in charge.”
Betty lifted her chin. “First of all, I’m not Betty Crocker. Secondly, I have no idea what you mean by a guru with a flamethrower.”
Nikki chuckled. “You have no ideas, period. You stand there in the corner and criticize. You’re a naysayer and not a problem solver. You’re just a…”
Jackie stopped listening to the bickering between Nikki and Betty. Her attention was focused on Brian. His rocking was more pronounced. He had a pained look on his reddened face. His mouth was squeezed tight and she could see from his white knuckles, he was holding the edge of the desk as tightly as he could. The louder the argument became, the faster he rocked.
“—a harlot,” said Betty. “I see the way you looked at Rick. And right in front of Karen. So tasteless. I refuse to take any sort of criticism—”