******
Nothing! Nothing at all, Jeffrey thought, acidity and unrest boiling in his stomach. Apprehension exacerbated the nausea, and he continued to pace around the barracks.
Fruitless hours of sweeping the now practically shining steps in front of the Institute had left him frustrated. He would have remained there if not for one particular receptionist heading to begin work. She had given him a rather suspicious look. He felt it safer to refrain from using that spot again for a while.
The rumor mill was utterly devoid of any information about any sort of retaliatory strike, but Jeffrey knew it happened. He had seen the hundreds of soldiers blaze by the day before, disappearing into some passageway that went to the freight elevator. They went down, and, as far as he knew, they hadn't returned. God willing, he thought, they won't.
Other servants stared off into space, ignoring his jittery back and forth during the hours of the morning. Behaviors among his coworkers varied greatly; pacing was not terribly unusual. Neither was murmuring, rocking back and forth, or hours of blank staring.
Jeffrey remained worried. They can handle it, he thought for the hundredth time. They'll be okay…
Uprising Page 50