Sanctuary Falling

by Pamela Foland

  Angela held back a smile, Tina had rescued her from creeping panic, once again providing direction. Then the implication of Tina’s words hit her, “What about Gene? Is he injured?”

  “Gene is dazed but doing what he can, handling those who can make it to the clinic on their own. Not being telepathic or anything, he isn’t exactly equipped to take charge. He told me to do it, so I am.”

  Angela flinched, at least she wasn’t the only old-timer not prepared to handle this situation, “Take who you need and get back out there.” Tina nodded and shot glances around the crowded room drafting most of the secondaries and tertiaries that had helped convene the meeting. Then they disappeared together. “I need damage reports! Where’s tech? Where’s Dennis?” Angela blurted the instant after Tina left her side, in the hope of sustaining momentum. At the end of the table Sinclair cleared his throat. Angela heard hesitance in the sound. “What?”

  Sinclair brushed dust from the table and glanced at the ceiling briefly. Then finally, painfully he spoke, “There were,” his voice broke and he cleared his throat again, “several deaths in the tech department, apparently from power surges in the equipment though some from quake damage.”

  Angela looked at him again, he was almost a different man. He was clearly talking about the death of friends. She needed more information, but how to get it gently, “And Dennis?”

  “An interface blew while he was trying to get emergency transport back on line. Elevators and communications are down too, but you probably already knew that,” Sinclair answered.

  Angela felt a desperate sinking suspicion, “And Dennis is being treated for burns, right? What did Gene say?”

  “There was no point in taking what was left to Gene. Right now nobody’s in charge in R&D,” Sinclair answered, taking on his usual abrasive tones. Angela suddenly realized, that he used his gruff insensitive surface to hold people at a distance. Like Angela, Sinclair wasn’t the person everyone else saw.

  “What about the brains of outfit, surely Ralph is taking charge.”

  Sinclair’s lips pulled themselves into a tight line, Ralph had been his direct superior, “He died from internal injuries before we could even get to him.”

  Angela froze, mind and body, another of her oldest and dearest friends was gone, dead. She didn’t know what to do next. Her world was falling apart. Yes, it was and if she didn’t pull it together it was going to kill a lot of people as it did. Communications, and transportation, and the elevators were out. “We need to get people into the elevators, to check for injuries and survivors.”

  Angela almost missed the small but strong voice of Annette as she piped up, “My team is already searching elevators and pulling out the trapped and injured.” Angela’s head spun, she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.

  Then Angela heard an echo of her own thought from Sinclair’s lips, “What team?” Then the man continued, focusing all of his pain and anger venomously on the girl, “Your team? Since when do you have a team?” All of the sudden sympathy and insight Angela had so recently gathered on the man, drained away with the near violence of his reaction to the girl’s simple statement.

  Annette, with her new abilities had to sense Sinclair’s feelings, but to her credit Annette managed not to cower. Instead, Annette answered hesitantly, “The other F.I.T.s in my training group. We do a lot together. When the quake happened we conferred telepathically and they’re halfway through searching the elevators at this point.”

  Angela was quietly impressed. She hadn’t heard a thing telepathically. Inwardly she frowned, it must’ve happened while she was walking the hairy line of panic. How about that, the kid was taking action while Angela fought not to hyperventilate. Angela stuck her hand in her pocket and thumbed the star Ben had given her. She looked at the girl who stared blankly at the ceiling. Angela felt a clear telepathic pressure around the girl. She’s keeping her team organized.

  Annette’s eyes came back into focus, “They’re finished, all the elevators are clear. There were only two major injuries. They’ve moved on to checking the older corridors.” Angela nodded and smiled at her. The girl had a good head on her shoulders, just maybe. . .

  Angela thumbed the star and glanced back in Sinclair’s direction. He was glowering at Annette. Angela yanked her hand from her pocket and slapped the table in front of her, “She’s doing her job, so is her team. How about you Chavez? I need communications and transportation back online, five minutes ago!” Sinclair’s chin dipped and he disappeared leaving an almost tangible telepathic fog of frustration and confusion. Angela shook her head and wondered how long it would take him to realize that her words effectively put him in charge of the technical department, seeing as it didn’t occur to her until after he disappeared.

  “Let’s all pull it together people. We need to restore structural integrity. I want you to split into teams, a kinetic to hold things together and non or weak kinetics to do stabilizing repairs. You’ll also need someone who can teleport and a good strong telepath for transportation and communication,” Angela declared. Rapidly the remaining factors moved to follow her orders, “Beyond and during the recovery efforts, I want everybody thinking about what caused this and gathering clues. If possible find out the how and why. If you find anything, bring it to me. . . or Annette,” Angela smiled at the quickly hidden shocked looks dashing across people’s faces. Adding Annette’s name had been a whim, or near to a whim. It had occurred to Angela that this might be the perfect way to see just what the girl was capable of.

  As the meeting broke up Angela found a sudden wedge of people between herself and the girl. All of them wanted to get a look at this surprising girl so few had heard of until now. Angela’s announcement had been enough for all of them to sit up and takes notice of the girl. Annette seemed almost uncomfortable with the attention as many people pressed themselves on her. Ambivalently Angela glared at them all, most instantly went back to forming the teams she’d suggested. After a moment the only one left was Niri.

  Angela watched as Niri gave the girl some advice before departing, “You’re abilities are still new to you. Don’t over tax yourself, and don’t let the chief drive you too hard either.”

  After the throng cleared, but before Annette could leave, Angela pulled her aside, “We need to talk. Annette, I’m really pleased with you and your team, good job. I stand by what I told you before, and I’d like to emphasize it. You hang in here and you will be a prime factor. Probably sooner than you think. Now, go join your team, but keep me informed.” Annette smiled broad gratitude at Angela and scrambled out the door. Angela thought to herself, “I’m going to have make sure Niri is really prepared to test Annette and her team.”

  - - - - - - - - - -

  Chapter 14

  Whoa!

  ------------------------------------

  Annette was sitting quietly through a lecture on factor equipment, the instructor was covering material she had already learned during her pre-trainee period. It wasn’t the only class where that was the case. Unfortunately Annette wasn’t bored. What with her own classes, being Tawny’s assistant, and the duties she had somehow picked up from Angela, Annette was a very busy girl. It was a very good thing she was still so far ahead of her class, though she did everything she could to keep the instructors from noticing, after all she had a lot to do.

  The pop-pad in her hip pocket would go off at irregular intervals, with more facts and figures on the repairs to Sanctuary, or perhaps more urgently someone needing to speak to the chief or someone in charge. When it was one of those callers Annette would politely and quietly duck out of class and listen to the caller as they squawked on about the repairs or about their personal theories about the quake. Annette’s job was to listen and promise to pass the information on to the chief. Once or occasionally twice per day, Annette would dutifully make a report to Angela. Most of the time it would be in person between the end of Annette’s breakfast and the beginning of Angela’s the morning briefing.


  Things had gone on like this for months, almost a year. Annette was starting to gain her second wind. She was getting used to her senses being on overdrive, and the responsibilities, and her own body. She had even gotten used to having friends, though her responsibilities left her hanging around the fringes of the group. Still, they appreciated her, after all at least twice during the year the bonus points she was bringing to the group had been the difference between top ranked floor and wearing the uniforms with everyone else. They were also quick to come to her for advice and homework help, especially when they caught her pre-reading third-year texts.

  Annette awoke with a start to the vibration of her pop-pad. She blinked hard to wet her eyes, she’d fallen asleep with her eyes open. A nervous glance around the room reminded her which class she was in. Carl was ahead of her in the front row demonstrating to the teacher the uses of a piece of disguised factor tech. The pad began to vibrate more vigorously, Annette could hear it as a faint buzz. She retrieved the pad and checked, it was a live call, not just a data drop. She slowly and quietly pushed out her last row chair and left the room.

  Outside she tapped the screen it lit up revealing Sinclair’s glaring face. “Miss Peterson, I don’t suppose you have any idea how to get a hold of the chief?” Chavez snarled, with an expression on his face akin to someone forced to clean out the stall of an elephant with diarrhea.

  Annette was torn between trembling at the knowledge of how much he loathed her and using what little power she had to make him wait, “What is this in reference to?”

  “Why in the hell should I tell you about it!”

  “Because you need me to link you to her, and I may be able to help you just as well,” Annette fought to keep her trembling out of her voice.

  “I need more structural plastics! I want to know why it is that my department is responsible for creating the stuff but is last on the list for using it! How am I supposed to get anything done down here if all of my people are afraid of the ceiling caving in!”

  Annette tapped an icon representing repair priorities. Within moments she located the answer he needed. “Lotus Avenue has been misappropriating materials, if you can spare people to send there, you should find enough structural plastics for your needs. I’ll arrange the appropriate requisition authorization.”

  Sinclair’s face twisted into an even more threatening expression, “Put me through to the chief, I shouldn’t have to chase down materials meant for my department.”

  Annette wavered, The Chief had effectively put her in charge of the extended quake relief efforts. She should have the last word, “The chief is quite busy.”

  “I want to speak with her, now, put me through,” Sinclair’s face soured taking on the characteristics of a bull about to charge. He was frightening, and though he couldn’t find the chief it was well within his abilities to find Annette.

  “Hold on I’ll see if she’s taking calls,” Annette tapped her pad pushing Sinclair’s face into a small box in the corner. Then Annette tapped the icon representing a quick link to Angela. There was no response to the first tap, so she tapped again.

  The screen lit up and Angela was smiling, “What’s up Annette?”

  Annette bit her lip, “Sinclair is insisting he speak to you. It’s about the allocation of structural plastics. I located some misappropriated plastic for him and told him he could go and get it. Still he wants to talk to you.”

  The corner of Angela’s mouth twitched down a fraction of a millimeter, a revealing crack in the mask Angela wore over her emotions. It was enough, after the months of close association, for Annette to read Angela’s dislike of the idea of talking to Sinclair, “I suppose you should put him through. I’ll tell him that you’ve got a better handle on those things than me.”

  Annette nodded and tapped the icon to link Sinclair to Angela. After a very few moments Sinclair’s face was once again plastered across Annette’s pad. “I suppose I’ll have to send my people after all. Send me that authorization.” Sinclair grunted like a cat trying to pass a hairball, and then the screen went blank.

  Annette wedged her pad back into her back pocket and stepped back into class. The rest of the class was packing up to leave, she’d missed the end of the lecture. Annette tucked her pop-pad into her knapsack and started to head to her next class.

  “Miss Peterson,” The instructor called from the head of the class, as he waved for her to join him. Carl and the rest of the F.I.T.S made a quick exit without allowing Annette eye contact. Uh-oh, it couldn’t be good.

  “Yes, professor Shanely,” Annette tried not to make her approach look like a death march.

  “I was just wanting to make sure you aren’t falling behind with all of the nonsense you’ve gotten yourself into,” He said gesturing vaguely towards the door.

  “No, professor, I’m still doing okay,” Annette replied hugging her knapsack.

  “Still I can’t say I approve of putting so much responsibility on the shoulders of a fifteen year old, even if they are briaunti. I mean you didn’t even metamorphose a full year ago. Your brain hasn’t quite completed its development. You’re still a child,” he was working himself up to a righteous frenzy of child welfare defense.

  “Actually professor, I’m fourteen. I won’t be fifteen till the 22nd of next month.”

  He scrubbed his five o’clock shadow, “All the more to my point. You should be taking things more slowly you’ll only be young once! Once you’re old it’s too late to relive what you missed. Don’t you have any dreams or anything you wished you could do?”

  Annette didn’t even pause to breathe, “Yes, and I’m living it. Is there a problem with my course work?”

  “No, it is exemplary, I just worry about you socially. I mean you sit back there in the last row by the door, you never even try to pass any notes,” he glanced revealingly towards the waste basket, “You seem so alone.”

  Annette made note of the shift of his gaze, “I sit back there so I don’t have to disrupt everyone when I get an urgent call. This morning for example I had to connect the head of R&D with the chief, about repairs. My pad recorded what I missed of your lecture and I’ll go over it tonight, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” He twittered gathering up his materials into his briefcase, “See you at lunch.” He hovered briefly over near the trash before heading abruptly out the door.

  Annette took his interest in the garbage to heart. While many in the class were like her and used their pads for note taking, at least half resorted to paper. She fished around through the wastebasket finding a large wadded piece of paper on top. Smoothing until only its deliberate folds remained, she paused. It was clearly an illicit note, and none of her business. Curiosity won out over propriety and she opened it.

  Clear plain letters asked, “Should I ask Annette to the spring formal?” followed by four clearly scrawled yeses, one even had five exclamation marks. Below the yessed was another response in the form of a question, “Do you think she has time to go?” Annette blushed. She turned the note over and over, trying to figure out who had written it. There was no answer to be found. She smoothed the paper and refolded it, tucking it inside her bag. She didn’t have time for wild speculations, at least not at the moment.

  Annette raced to the door to head to her next class, and nearly ran into Carl, “Oh, sorry Annette, I forgot something.”

  “No problem Carl,” Annette replied on her way past him. Just then her pocket began to vibrate again.

  - - - - - - - - - -

  Angela broke the connection to Chavez. He was an annoying little man, even if there was something more to him on the inside. Fortunately he accepted her authority, and her statement that Annette was perfectly qualified to make determinations with regards to quake repairs. Too bad no one else was as easily mollified.

  The worst thing about the quake aside from the damage, loss of life, and incessant repairs was the return of the morning briefings. Angela couldn’t even put
a finger on how or why they had begun again. The truth was they helped her, in that she was no longer as free ranging as before, and the simple routine of it made it easier to just be the chief.

  Right now being the chief was a lot more comfortable than being Angela. Angela was scared, shaking to the depths of her soul, trembling hand and foot, crying in the night, scared. The chief, on the other hand was incapable of showing fear, almost incapable of feeling it. The chief was a convenient mask to pacify everyone’s fears, even her own.

  Angela shoved aside the stack of reports on her desk, people had switched back to paper because the quake had knocked out communications. Fear of a repeat kept the daily hard copies filing through the door, even once communications had been restored. Every morning she left the briefing with a stack that almost reached her chin. The stacks were scattered all over her office. One benefit of the avalanche of paper was that it totally un-fenged her shui. Her office had really become hers again.

  Taking a look around the room Angela suddenly felt a twinge of the pressure building around her. Everyone wanted her to make them feel safe again. Time for a little relaxation. Angela took her unlisted pop-pad, which only Annette could contact. Without another glance around the room Angela teleported herself to the little out of the way room she had claimed in the name of a hobby. Only Tina knew of it, because Tina maintained the supply of materials.

  The room was locked and shielded and filled with cans of wall paint. Randomly Angela selected a can and opened it. It held chartreuse, not a bad color though it would look strange over the black she had painted the walls last time she’d been stressed out. Angela contemplated throwing a coat of light colored primer up first, so the green would show true. No, she only had a little time she could steal from the chief today.