“Can you tell what happened?” Judith asked.
“Looks like the reactor scrammed on its own. The Boron control rods dropped into the core to stop the reaction.”
“Can you get it restarted?”
“I think so. The coolant pumps are running on backup power, so the water is still circulating through the core. All we should need to do is reset the trip condition, and then pull out the control rods sequentially to restart the reactor.”
“Do you know what order to pull them out?”
“Luckily, it’s all computerized.” He showed her the schematics on Rapp’s touch-screen computer. “All I have to do is tell the computer to initialize the power-up sequence, and it’ll pull the rods out in the correct order. Then the reaction should resume automatically and start superheating the water.”
“How hot does the water need to be?”
Kleezebee looked at the schematics for a few seconds, then changed screens to pull up a saturated steam table on the iPad. “The reactor’s coolant system is pressurized to 1600 PSI, which means the water temperature will need to reach 480 degrees Fahrenheit. Otherwise, it won’t be sufficient for the steam pressure to power the turbine.”
“How long?”
“It’s a controlled buildup in temperature, so I’d say about an hour or so.”
Dr. Rosenbaum looked around the room and asked, “So . . . where exactly is this reactor?”
Kleezebee checked the computer tablet again, then pointed. “It’s a hundred feet down the hall, in a separate room.”
“Is it safe to be in here while the reactor’s powering up?”
“We’ll be fine. The reactor is surrounded by a thick, reinforced wall of concrete and there’s a three-quarter-inch metal plate lining the inside of the room. There’s virtually no risk of being irradiated.”
“Finally, some good news,” she said.
Kleezebee used the touch screen interface embedded in the reactor’s control station to change the computer display until it read REACTOR FAST RESTART in bright red letters. “Trip condition reset. I’m ready to power up. We’ll know shortly if this is going to work,” he said before pressing three different button icons on the touch screen. The phrase REACTOR INITIALIZING started blinking green the center of the screen.
Kleezebee waited a minute. “Looks good. The control rods are retracting.”
“Should we head back to the others now?” Rosenbaum asked. She seemed to be in a hurry.
“Not quite yet. Let’s wait here for a bit to make sure there are no surprises.”
* * *
Lucas carried Drew past the access door as they made it to the third sublevel. He looked up and realized the path above them was much too dark. “That’s not a good sign,” he said, pointing up. “There should be more light.” He hated to admit it, but it looked like Larson was right. This was a giant waste of time.
They made it up two more flights of stairs before they were forced to stop. The stairwell was almost completely blocked by a twenty-foot-high mound of cement, dirt, gravel, and other debris from above. He could see random office supplies and equipment hanging out from the pile: parts of a two-decker coffeemaker, a flattened stapler, the opening to an electric pencil sharpener, and a mangled toner cartridge box for a laser printer. Just above those items was a baggie with what looked like a squished ham and cheese sandwich. It was out of reach but looked edible, making his stomach growl.
Despite the cave-in, the path wasn’t blocked completely. A steady stream of light was shining through a gap at the very top of the heap. He pointed at the opening. “That may be our only way out.”
Lucas bent down to allow Drew to slide off and sit on the landing. He welcomed the chance to straighten up his sore lower back and then rub the area just above the top of his belt, kneading it with both hands to see if he could loosen up the knot forming inside. If he had to carry Drew much farther, he feared he might never walk upright again.
There was a twisted section of metal stairway sticking out of the wreckage at a downward angle. The lowest part of it was about ten feet off the ground. He thought they might be able to use it as a ladder, if they could figure out a way to reach it. “The stairs must have broken loose from above,” he said, scooping up a handful of loose dirt and gravel. “All this must have come from up top.”
“You’d think it would’ve been sucked up by the dome.”
“It might’ve been just beyond the reach of the energy field. The dome probably shook it loose and it fell down the stairwell. There’s no telling what’s piled up, up there.”
“Maybe we should go back?”
“Hell no. I just hauled your butt up seventeen floors. Let’s just take a minute and think.”
Lucas looked up and studied the hole where the light was shining through. It appeared to be about two feet in diameter and might be big enough for someone to crawl through it.
“Drew, if I can get you up there, do you think you can squeeze your ass through that opening?”
“Me?”
The brothers both had thirty-two inch waists, but Lucas’ shoulders were wider, despite Drew’s powerful biceps. He wore a large shirt and Drew a medium. “Yes, you. I’ll never fit.”
Drew wrinkled his forehead and shook his head. “I don’t know. Looks awfully small to me.”
“Well, you need to try. I don’t see any other option, do you?”
“Let’s assume for a moment I can get through—what about you?”
“I’m hoping you can crawl up a couple more flights and yell for help. We’re not far from the surface. The dirt and stairs had to fall in from somewhere. I betting it’s open up top.”
“And if it’s not?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Lucas said, bending down to let Drew shimmy back up on his back.
Lucas worked his way up the wreckage by using the fallen cement blocks as footholds. It was difficult to maintain his balance with Drew hanging off him, but he managed to climb up to within a foot of the metal framework he wanted Drew to use as a ladder.
“It’s time to put all those pushups to good use. See if you can reach it.”
FOURTEEN
Drew put his left hand up and grabbed the lowest part of the fallen metal. He let go of his brother’s shoulder with the other hand and hung with both hands from the framework, like a monkey. He pulled himself up three rungs before wedging his right elbow between two V-shaped sections of the metal scaffolding to catch his breath and plan his next move. A flat section of metal was to his left, which he could use as a resting platform.
He swung his lower body like a pendulum and plopped both of his feet over the front edge of the horizontal surface. He had only minimal control over his legs, but was able to slide his knees and his thighs onto the ledge. So far, so good, he thought. He just needed to maneuver his head and shoulders under a metal support rail to get his entire body onto the metal landing, then he’d be safe.
He loosened his elbow grip and tried to slide his head and back under the railing, but the knapsack caught the underside of the metal above his head. He twisted and contorted his upper body to compress the backpack, forcing it under the rail and through.
“You okay?” Lucas asked.
“I’m good. Come on up,” Drew replied, removing the bulky knapsack.
Lucas leaned away from the face of the debris pile and wrapped his fingers around the bottommost metal bar. Drew watched as he tried to pull himself up, making it partway, but then his body slid back into its hanging position. “I’m not strong enough,” he said, craning his neck up at Drew.
“See if you can lift your leg and grab hold of the bar above you. It’ll take some of the dead weight off your hands.”
Lucas grunted, lifting his right leg and wrapping the hollow of his knee around the metal bar next to his hands. “Okay, now what?” he asked, in a strained voice.
“Now reach up and lock your arm over the next strut. Your center of gravity will change and you sho
uld be able to pull yourself up.”
Lucas tried twice to reach for the bar. “Can’t reach it. Maybe I should have had a power bar this morning.”
Drew feared Lucas would soon lose his grip; his arms had to be getting tired. One slip and they would be having wheelchair races in the hospital. “Try swinging your body to shift your weight. Then lunge for the bar. You should be able to reach it.”
Lucas rocked his body back and forth, each time swinging a little higher. He reached up and wrapped his right arm around the metal bar, locking himself into place with the crook of his elbow. He climbed the rest of the way up.
“I knew you could do it,” Drew said, relieved.
“Glad that’s over with. I thought I was going to lose my grip,” Lucas said, looking down.
Drew could feel the temporary platform swaying beneath them. “We should get moving before this thing decides to give way.”
Together, they climbed up the rest of the makeshift ladder until they reached the top of the debris pile.
“Can you get in there?” Lucas asked, pointing to the bright opening just above him.
“It’s going to be tight, but I’ll try.”
Drew used a piece of rebar protruding from a slab of broken cement to pull himself up. He inserted his head into the passage, but he had to jerk his head back and slam his eyes shut when a beam of sunlight burned into his pupils from the other side.
“What do you see?” Lucas yelled from behind.
“Give me a minute. Right now, all I can see is sunlight from the other side.” Eventually, Drew’s eyes adjusted and he could see properly. “Looks like a dirt cave, but I think I can crawl through.”
The aperture was barely wide enough for his chest and shoulders to fit. It was about six feet in depth, and there were several jagged objects sticking out along the top of the opening. He went into the cavity head first, on his back. He slithered deeper and deeper into the hole, barely missing the edges of the sharp objects threatening to slice open his chest. He made it to within a foot from the far side of the hole.
“Can you get through?” Lucas yelled from behind.
Drew turned over on his stomach. “There’s something in my way.”
Part of a fluorescent light assembly had fallen into the passage and was blocking the exit. He gave it a shove with his right hand. It moved, but only slightly. He tried working the light back and forth to see if he could move it. Each time he shoved at it, the housing would slide a little farther away from him. It took several more tries, but eventually he worked the light free, sending it crashing through the far side of the opening.
“I’m clear,” he shouted.
“Go get help,” Lucas replied.
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine. Now go.”
Drew slid headfirst, out of control, down the far side of the debris pile, scraping his elbows and forearms on cement chunks, rocks, rebar, and other objects in the wreckage. He was almost upside down when he reached the bottom. After he flipped his body around to sit up, he felt something wet around his waistline. He put his hand inside the back of his trousers and when he pulled it out, it was slick with blood. He’d been injured somewhere, yet he wasn’t feeling any pain.
He checked the rest of his body, looking for the wound. He found a six-inch rip in his pants just above his left thigh. He pulled the material apart, revealing a deep gash in his thigh muscle. It was bleeding in spurts and he could see the bone underneath. He clamped his hand around the wound to keep pressure on it, hoping to stop the deep red ooze from dripping down his leg.
When he looked up, he could see clear up to ground level. The surface opening was triple the size he was expecting, perhaps due to the massive surface collapse. It would explain the overabundance of dirt and rocks in the stairwell.
“Hello? Anyone up there? We need help down here!” he yelled.
A man wearing bulky firefighter gear peeked over the ledge and looked down at him. He then turned away for a moment and said, “We have a survivor over here!” The man looked back at Drew. “Are you injured?”
“I’m bleeding from my leg and can’t walk.”
“Are you alone?”
“There’re seven of us down here. One’s in pretty bad shape.”
“Hang on, we’ll send someone down,” the man said, before disappearing from view.
It wasn’t long before the surface opening was crawling with emergency personnel. A rescue worker wearing a full-body harness was lowered down by rope to Drew’s position.
“My name’s Alan,” the rescuer said, swaying in midair before his feet touched the ground.
“I’m Drew.”
“Where are the others?”
“My brother’s just on the other side of this cave-in. There are four more people down on the twentieth floor. One critical.”
Alan was carrying another harness, which he took off his shoulder. “I need you to put this safety rig on.”
“No, I’m not leaving without my brother.”
“Trust me. We’ll get to him, and the others. But first, we need to get you to the surface. Looks like you’re losing a lot of blood.”
Drew struggled to prop himself up on his feeble legs. “You’re going to have to help me.”
Alan grabbed Drew by the belt loops and tugged him up the rest of the way to his feet. Then he helped Drew slip his lower body into and through the two leg holes, and then put the V-shaped shoulder straps over Drew’s head. He latched the waist belt around Drew’s midsection and clipped Drew’s harness to his own.
“Hang on tight,” he said, whistling to his colleagues on the surface, who were now standing around the opening, looking down with intense gazes. Once Alan gave them a thumbs-up signal, they were winched slowly up to the surface.
Drew studied the dark-haired man's face as they made their way up to the surface. He seemed familiar in some way. “You wouldn't happen to have a brother who's a security guard on campus, would you?”
“No, why?”
“I know it sounds weird, but you look like you're related to this man who stopped a fight between my brother and some rugby players—except that guy had red hair.”
“Sorry, no relation. I don't have a redheaded brother.”
“I guess it's true what they say. Everyone has a twin.”
* * *
Kleezebee and Dr. Rosenbaum joined Rapp, Larson, and the injured Dr. Suki in the lobby on Sublevel 20, just outside the NASA conference room. Kleezebee’s left armpit was getting sore from the makeshift crutch rubbing against it. He switched it to the other side.
“Were you able to get the reactor started?” Rapp asked.
Kleezebee nodded. “The power should be online soon.”
“Excellent news. Any problems?” Rapp replied, taking the iPad computer from Rosenbaum.
“None,” Kleezebee said as the lights sprang to life. He felt a rush of fresh air blow past from the vent above him. “Whew, that’s better. It was getting pretty stuffy in here.”
Larson asked, “Now that the power’s back, can we take the elevator up to the surface?”
“The elevator was destroyed,” Rosenbaum replied. “Dr. Kleezebee and I had to take the stairs up to eighteen.”
“Any news from Dr. Ramsay or his brother?” Rapp asked Kleezebee.
“No, but at least they haven’t come back empty-handed. Hopefully, they made it to the surface and will send help.”
“So we just sit here and wait?” Larson asked.
“Hey, you had your chance to leave earlier,” Rapp said sharply. “So unless you have a site-to-site transporter and can beam us out of here, we’re not going anywhere.”
Larson stormed off, throwing his arms up in the air and mumbling to himself as he walked down the hallway.
Kleezebee smiled at Rapp and proceeded to mock the attorney by waving his arms like a gorilla, then arranged his hands as if he were holding a loaded rifle that was aimed at Larson. He pretended to pull the trigger, simulat
ing the gun’s recoil.
“How’s Dr. Suki doing?” Rosenbaum asked Rapp, wearing a smile on her lips.
“He’s hanging in there, but his pulse is weak and he’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Should we take him to the stairs?”
“No, we probably shouldn’t move him again. I’m afraid the rebar might shift and cause more damage.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.
Rapp shook his head.
Kleezebee checked the house phone attached to the wall next to him—there was no dial tone. “Phone’s still out.”
“Then it’s up to Lucas,” Rapp said, tending to Suki. “But he better hurry.”
Kleezebee limped to the closest chair in the waiting room and took a seat. He slid one of the magazine stacks to the right on the coffee table, making room for his injured leg as he brought it up and put it on the surface. He leaned back in the chair, closed his heavy eyelids, and let his head fall gently rest against the wall.
* * *
Two sweat-covered firefighters tugged at the rope as Drew and Alan were winched over the ledge and onto the ground just beyond the stairwell’s entrance.
“Thanks for the lift, guys,” Drew said, waiting for someone to help him out of the safety gear.
Lucas’ earlier prediction of the science lab being leveled was correct. From the looks of it, the energy field had torn through the west side of campus, leaving only a fifty-foot section of the NASA building intact. The stairwell’s shaft appeared to be just beyond the energy field’s reach, though a sizable portion of the surrounding structure had collapsed into the hole.
A female EMT, wearing an orange reflective vest, pushed a gurney toward Drew, while her partner ran alongside her, carrying a pair of red medical boxes. After Alan unclipped Drew’s harness, she helped Drew remove the harness and sit back on the gurney.
Alan told his colleagues, “There’s another survivor on the other side of a blockage, plus a few more down on the twentieth floor. You’re going to need excavation equipment and a medical team.”
Drew watched rescue crews rally quickly with shovels, picks, and other equipment. Seconds later, two men were lowered into the hole. He hoped it wouldn’t be too long before Lucas came up and out.
Linkage (The Narrows of Time Series Book 1) Page 19
