by Clint Stoker
“What’s with the water balloon?”
“The idea is to focus the blast into the glass.”
Fenton looked on, less than satisfied with the explanation.
“The water isn’t ridged like the glass is. So the water will give just enough so most of the force will go through the glass.”
Fenton looked up at their work. “It sounds like a story to me. How do you know this will work?”
“I don’t know. It just seems right.”
Fenton might have argued the credibility of Air’s assumptions, but he wanted it to work just as badly, so he kept quiet.
Ganton ran to get to the transport that was parked around the corner and Fenton waited behind the dumpster with the detonator in hand and active. Air wandered across the street in front of the cleaning center and sat down on the curb. He had a good view of the alley. Everything looked normal except for the mass of black tape hanging off the side of the cleaning center. He watched the people celebrating, seeming oblivious to what was about to happen. They were accustomed to seeing strange things during celebrations but this would surpass all of it.
They waited for half an hour. Ganton’s transport crept by but kept on going because Anna-Desi was missing. He shrugged at Air and kept on down the street to make another trip around the block. Fenton peered from behind the dumpster. He lifted his hands as if to ask what the hold-up was.
“Anna-Desi isn’t here yet,” Air whispered.
Ganton passed by two more times in the transport before Anna-Desi finally came down the street with six other sloshed celebrators. She laughed and prodded them as she coaxed the group along. She said something about the architecture of the cleaning center and directed them to stop when they arrived at the mark. She threw her hands up above her head and shouted for everyone to stay still.
Sweat accumulated beneath Air’s mask. Where was Ganton? The group questioned Anna-Desi and most of them continued walking down the street again like drunken zombies. She pleaded for them to come back to the mark but they seemed offended. They ignored her and kept walking. Air panicked and jumped to his feet. He looked back down the street. Ganton still wasn’t there yet. He looked back to Anna-Desi. Do something. She looked back at him and understood what she needed to do.
“Help!” She screamed. It was enough to bring back sour memories for everyone within the sound of her voice.
The retreating group stopped and looked back toward Anna-Desi. She fell to the ground, laying in a contorted mess to add some drama. The drunken celebrators watched her in disbelief at first. Then they walked closer and called for her to wake up. The drunken group was joined by more sober celebrators and soon she was the center of serious concern. They nudged her and called her. She just laid quietly on the mark and waited for the explosion.
Ganton must have been stopped somewhere around the block. Anna-Desi couldn’t play dead for much longer without any consequences.
“She needs a doctor!” one of the more coherent men stooped over Anna-Desi.
“I’m a doctor!” Air shouted on impulse. He rushed over to the crown and tried to invent another lie. He paused and watched her lying, limp, like a fresh corps. “She’s having a seizure.” A seizure? That was the best he could do?
She verified his diagnosis with a quick convulsion. It worked to surprise the intoxicated but the others were less convinced. The act couldn’t go much longer and still be believable.
“Everyone back up,” shouted another man.
“No, stay here,” Air busted. Who did this guy think he was? “I need everyone to stay right where you are.” Air looked for Ganton again.
“She is just having an… episode. It should pass shortly but she needs your support.” Another stupid lie like that and Air was guaranteed to be thrown into a cell.
The crowd grew quiet as Anna-Desi stopped shaking and lay on the asphalt panting. Anything to stretch out the act a little longer. Where was Ganton?
“What was that?” A woman protested. “That was the fakest thing I have ever seen.”
“No I assure you, that was a genuine… episode.” Air coughed.
“I’m a doctor.” The same pushy man, who told everyone to get back, stepped in from the other side of the street. “What’s going on here?” He flashed his ration card to confirm his occupation.
“It’s all under control.” Air fought to keep his patient. A real doctor standing there made him already feel less confident in his lie.
The real doctor looked closely at Anna-Desi who was squinting. He bent down and reached to lift off her mask.
“What are you doing?” Air tried to sound outraged.
“I need to remove her mask to check her vital signs.”
“You’ll do no such thing. This is my patient and everything is under control.” Air pushed the doctor back, resorting to a fight.
“He’s lying!” slurred another woman, “He hasn’t done anything to help her. He’s no doctor.”
It didn’t matter what they thought any more. The transport swerved wide to avoid hitting the crowd. Once the transport was on target, Ganton ran to the back of the transport and leapt behind a seat. Motion seemed to slow down at the initial impact of the levitating transport. The steel post crushed through the windshield as it parted the sleek nose of the transport in two. Small pieces of tempered glass sprayed from the windows as the metal body warped and twisted from the impact. A fraction of a second passed and the blast from the C4 ripped from beneath the transport. Shards of concrete spit up from the ground and the lamppost toppled over from the weight of the transport. The tall steel pole fell, on target, against the cleaning center. The post bent from the pressure against the glass. The weight and momentum made the pole roll down the side of the glass. It would have stayed half propped against the strong glass if it wasn’t for the final blast of C4. A shower of glass sprayed into the cleaning center. Dark smoke trickled into the sky and the bent post fell into the large opening in the glass.
The celebrators scrambled around the streets. They flinched and forgot about anything else but hiding. Air pulled Anna-Desi up from her condition. The glass made a scratching sound under their feet as they ran across the destruction to the alley. Fenton had the blackened piece of sheet-metal in his hand and a few strands of wire. He was running back to the dumpster to dispose of them when Air arrived at the jagged hole in the cleaning center.
“Make sure Ganton is okay and try not to draw too much attention.”
“Okay.” Anna-Desi gasped for breath.
Fenton was running back from the dumpster.
“Did you get it all?” Air shouted over the panic.
“Everything I could find. Let’s go.” Fenton jumped over the conquered lamppost and skidded in through the gaping hole in the cleaning center. Air turned to see disoriented people. A woman was crouched in the street holding her thigh. A shrapnel wound. Blood oozed from between her fingers. Air blinked and saw a mental image of his wife bleeding in a dark shed. The memory was short but strong. He covered his eyes, turned away and followed after Fenton.
Chapter 14
Fenton skidded on the tiled floor and turned a corner. He stopped with his back against the wall and panted. There was no going back.
“Come this way.” Air crunched through the glass. “Down the hall and to the right.” He darted toward the file room.
Fragments of glass were wedged in the treads of their shoes. It made running problematic and the cracking sound played with their nerves.
“Do you think they’ll find out it wasn’t an accident?”
“They’ll know it was staged as soon as they realize Ben and Dharmesh are missing. But the explosion worked better than I hoped. It should buy us enough time. ”
The hall was dark. They arrived at the door labeled Purging Office and Air stopped. There was a soft light emanating from under the door. He held his breath and pressed his ear to the door.
“Is someone in there?” Fenton whispered between his labored breaths.
“Is there another way in?”
“No, this is it.”
“We better hurry.”
“We might need to call the whole thing off.”
“We aren’t going to get another chance. We need to do this now.”
Air shook his head.
“Let’s go in,” Fenton insisted.
“If someone is really in there, we are going to regret it.”
“So what? Is the door unlocked?”
Air exhaled and looked back into the void hall. His instincts nagged him to get out, but he couldn’t bear the guilt of leaving Ben and Dharmesh. So, what should he do?
“Okay.” Air tried not to think about the consequences. “I’ll have to kick down the door. You run in and make a right. There is another door there. It shouldn’t be locked so you can go right through the file room to the door on the far-side. That is where they are being held. Jam a little C4, just a little, in the lock and…”
“What if someone is inside?”
“If you don’t want to risk it, we can turn around right now. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“No, no. We can’t do that.”
Air nodded and drew his gun as if he would really use it. “Okay, ready?” He took a step back from the door and settled into an aggressive stance.
“I’m ready.”
Air pulled back the hammer and marked the gun at the door. He lifted one leg and sprung it forward, kicking with the bottom of his foot like a mule. His foot planted against the door next to the knob. Splinters of wood fanned out from the door frame and the door slammed against the wall on the other side. Fenton sprinted in and headed right to the file room. Air scanned the office with the handgun. No one was inside, but the light in Dex’s office was on. He crept to the door and listened. He couldn’t hear anything except Fenton’s grunts and heavy breathing from the file room.
“Fenton!” Ben’s elation echoed from the cell.
Air focused on Dex’s office. He rotated the door knob so it wouldn’t make any sounds. The office was empty. A floor lamp in the corner was on. He checked behind the door and under the desk to be certain he was alone. The desk was clean and organized in a meticulous precision. A golden metal sat at the top of the desk next to a picture frame. Air observed the photo. Dex was standing in a group of men. Each had a metal hanging from a ribbon around their neck. Air studied Dex’s face. He looked the same as always. The picture could have been taken two days before or a century earlier but there was no way of telling. He studied the faces of the other men. He didn’t recognize any of them. A strange feeling came over Air. He looked closer at the picture. A faint memory surfaced in his mind. The Founder was at the event, though Air couldn’t point him out in the photo. He looked again to see if perhaps the Founder was disguised. After focusing on each of the faces, Air was sure the Founder wasn’t in the photo. However, he still had the prodding feeling that the Founder was there.
Air sat in the desk chair, set the pistol down and began opening drawers. He leafed through the files, unsure what he was looking for. Opened a file with more pictures and sorted through them. Most were head-shots of purgers, clerks and cleaners but he didn’t find any more photos of Dex wearing the metal.
His phone chirped and displayed an urgent message.
Purgers, report to cleaning center immediately.
Air ignored it and continued looking. He sighed with vindication as he spotted a picture of Dex with the Founder dressed in a military style uniform and beret. They were posed in the picture with a framed document between them. It hung on a marble wall with a red rope draped from silver poles as though it were in a museum. The hair on Air’s arms stood up as he realized the importance of the picture. It was the founding documents. They were displayed on the wall for anyone to see. Everything in the city was planned and written out on those documents. If he could find it, he would understand everything about the city. It would be of interest to Fields and the cause. Air frowned. The documents were important to Air. He could find out how to take the rebirth with him. The documents were sure to have information on it.
“Something’s wrong.” Fenton glared in through the door.
“What?” Air had almost forgotten why he was there.
“I put C4 in the cell locks. I inserted the blasting caps but the detonator isn’t working.”
Air picked up his gun and rushed to the holding cells. Dharmesh and Ben had their mattresses tipped up forming a barricade. They were ducked behind in anticipation for the blast. Air looked at the C4 and checked the blasting caps. Everything seemed right. He took the detonator in his hand and stepped back into the file room.
“Cover your heads,” Air said.
He pulled the lever on the detonator and pushed the button with his thumb. Nothing happened. He hit the detonator against his other hand and tried it again. Nothing.
“Why isn’t it working?” Fenton stomped.
“I don’t know.”
“Hurry…”
A scratching sound reverberated from outside the cleaning office, too many footsteps to make a guess.
“They’re coming.” Ben’s voice quaked from his cell.
“Go on – get out of here while you can.” Dharmesh waved them off. Didn’t he understand? This was the last and only chance to escape.
Fenton snatched the detonator from Air’s hand, violently shook it and pressed the button half-a-dozen time.
“It was a good effort.” Dharmesh tried to comfort Fenton. “It’s not meant to be. Go on, Fenton. Go.”
“We’re so close!” Fenton’s fists turned pale as he tried to squeeze the life from the detonator.
“It’s ok, Fenton. I have a plan of my own.”
The voices were in the office now. Air concealed his pistol. He pulled the blasting caps from the C4 and hid them under his toga.
“Fix your beds.” Air was frantic to pick the C4 from the locks.
“They’re almost here.” Fenton twisted and looked for a hiding spot.
Air pointed back into the file room. There was a space between the last filing cabinet and the wall just big enough for a man to squeeze in.
“Hide.” Air whispered. He could still save Fenton.
Fenton pushed himself into the space. His head was still visible over the top of the cabinet. He ducked and twisted, attempting to lower his head. The space was too tight and his toga was wringing around his body like a boa-constrictor. He looked to Air with terror in his eyes. Air opened the cabinet and lifted out a thick section of files. He set them on top of the cabinet where Fenton’s head protruded over the cabinets. It was all he could do.
“Don’t move!” Napal shouted, just out of view.
He was standing in the doorway between the office and the file room, still wearing a celebration toga and mask. He pointed a pistol at Air.
“Hold up! Napal. It’s me, Air!” He lifted his hands.
Napal lowered his gun. “You sure got here fast. Did the prisoners escape?”
“No, they’re still here.” Air stepped and turned his back to Fenton. He widened his feet and directed Napal to the holding cell.
“Was anyone in here or did you kick down the door?” Napal walked past Air and into the holding cells.
“I didn’t have a key. What was I supposed to do?” Air shrugged.
“You were supposed to wait for someone with a key.”
“Dex will thank me later.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
Air laughed, annoyed and nervous.
“What’s this? The locks are all full of putty or something.”
Air cringed. “What?” was all he could say.
“Did you put clay in the locks?”
“Why would I put clay in the locks? That’s ridiculous.”
“I don’t know, but there is definitely clay in the locks.”
Air squinted and leaned around the door frame to get a better view of the cell locks. He’d missed a lot of C4. “I
don’t see any clay.” He lied.
“You must be drunk. It’s a good thing the prisoners are still here. When Dex sees that you’ve kicked down the door and finds clay in the locks, he’ll come down on you.”
“The prisoners are still here aren’t they?”
“It’s a good thing.”
Helix walked into the room along with another purger. They looked too casual holding their guns.
“Who kicked down the door?” Helix said.
“It was just Air.” Napal made a drinking gesture with his hand. Helix shook his head. “It’s a false alarm anyway. We’ve talked to the transport diver and he said it was just an accident. I guess a drunken lady was in the road and he didn’t see her until the last minute.”
“I’m so glad Dex called me out of the middle of a movie for this,” Napal sighed.
“Let’s go. Dex sent for some builders to board-up the glass. We’re done.” Helix turned out the door, anxious to get back to his celebration.
“You go ahead, Napal. I’m going to see if I can fix that door frame before Dex sees what I’ve done.”
“No, Air. Come on, you aren’t thinking straight.”
Fenton tugged Air from behind as a reminder that he was still hiding, and his life still depended on Air staying put.
“Okay, I’m coming.” Air slurred for good measure.
Air made sure Napal went first. They walked through the building and out the front door. They made their way around the front of the building to the shattered section of glass. A woman was being treated by a doctor on the sidewalk across the street. Her leg wrapped in bandages. The transport was smashed and twisted, still leaning on one end of the lamppost. Ganton was tending to a cut on his arm, and Anna-Desi was hunched on the ground next to him. Another transport showed up. It was fitted with metal racks and panels of wood. Workmen started to sweep up the glass and measure the gap they had to cover.
“Looks like things are under control,” Napal said.
