Mine (31 page)

The fourth door was marked
ACCESS AB
.

“Stairs,” Leah said as she looked inside.

“A way out?” Joel asked.

“They go down, not up.” She turned to look at him and noticed Mike was staring off to the side, looking worried.

“Mike, are you all right?”

Mike didn’t react. Joel gave him a gentle shake. Mike blinked and looked at him, confused.

“Are you okay?” Joel asked.

“I-I-I…”

“The Reclaimer?” Leah asked. “Is she close?”

Mike rocked forward and backward once. “Her home. She can be anywhere, everywhere.”

“Do you sense her now?” Joel asked.

Mike rocked again but didn’t say anything.

“I think we should probably take that as a yes,” Joel said.

Leah looked back at the stairs. “I think we might as well go down and see what’s there first, then finish up here after.”

“Works for me.”

The stairs went down only a single, albeit tall, floor, and exited into another hallway with the same dimensions and scattered lights as the one above. But here there were multiple doors on both the right and left.

The first several rooms they checked were labeled
PROVISIONS
,
CAFETERIA
,
KITCHEN
,
JANITORIAL
,
LAVATORY
FEMALE,
LAVATORY MALE.
As they made their way farther down the hall, the generic place names gave way to placards containing proper names:
DR. CHAMBERS
,
DR. DANIELS
,
DR. KELLER
, and
DR. WRIGHT
. They checked them all, hoping one contained the switch combination for the vault door.

The last two doors were separated from the others. The sign on the first read
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR
,
DR. KOZAKOV
and the one on the second,
DIRECTOR, DR. DURANT
.

Joel was sure these weren’t medical doctors. He, Leah, and Mike had come across no hospital rooms or examination suites. What they had seen were workrooms and scientific labs that looked like older versions of the ones Joel had worked in during college.

Not for the first time, he wondered what this place had been.

They went inside the assistant director’s office. Like the other offices, it looked as if its owner would be returning at any minute.

Joel led Mike to a chair. “Why don’t you sit down and get off your feet for a minute?”

“Okay. Thank you…Joel.”

When Mike was situated, Joel joined Leah at the desk. Several files were stacked in the corner, while one was sitting open as if Dr. Kozakov had been reading it.

“What is it?” he asked.

Leah flipped a page and shook her head. “Lab results of some kind. Nothing to indicate what it’s measuring, though.”

While she looked through the papers on the desk, Joel began opening drawers. He’d just finished the first and was opening another when—

“This is Dr. Magnus Kozakov, assistant director of Project Titan.” The voice, already deep and drawn out, slowed with each word.

Joel and Leah shot looks toward it. It was coming from near Mike, who was no longer in the chair and now kneeling on the floor next to a cabinet.

“Before I say anything else,” the voice continued, “if you are listening to this inside the Titan facility, stop now, take tthhiiss ttaappee aaannnddd gggeeettt ooouuuttt. Yooouuuu aaa….”

The voice stopped.

“What is that? Is that you, Mike?” Joel asked.

Mike glanced back and leaned to the side. On the ground in front of him was a metal box.

Joel and Leah hurried over and leaned down for a better look. The box was an old reel-to-reel recorder, like Joel had seen pictures of in college. It was extremely bulky by modern standard, but clearly designed to be portable.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mike said.

“It’s okay,” Joel told him. “Where did you find it?”

“Under there.” Mike pointed at the floor beneath the cabinet. “Under.”

Joel gestured toward the box. “May I?”

After Mike nodded, Joel picked it up and carried it over to the desk. The
PLAY
switch was still depressed but the reels weren’t moving, so he pushed
STOP
to release the button and pressed
PLAY
again. For a half second the tape began to move and “rrr” came out of the speaker. But then it stopped again.

Joel flipped the box over and opened a hatch on the bottom. He pulled out a large single battery of a type he’d never seen before. It looked as old as the recorder but seemed to be in surprisingly good shape. After popping it back in, he tried to play the tape again, but whatever juice the battery had was now completely depleted.

“Titan facility?” Leah said. “Is that where we are?”

“I guess,” Joel said.

“Wasn’t there a Titan missile program once?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen a silo.”

“Maybe we just haven’t opened the right door yet.”

“I don’t know. This place seems more like a research facility than a Cold War missile bunker.” He tapped on the reel-to-reel machine. “The warning would have been more helpful before we came down, don’t you think?”

He turned the box around, examined the sides, and discovered a power input slot. “Was anything else down there?” he asked Mike. “An electric cord?”

“I-I didn’t see one.”

Leah, who was closest, lowered to her knees, peeked beneath the cabinet, and pulled something out. When she stood again, it wasn’t a cord she held but an old-style notepad with spiral wire binding at the top.

She flipped it open and looked at several pages before saying, “Dr. Kozakov again.” She looked at a few more pages and then turned the pad so Joel could see it. “Read this. It’s the last entry.”

Power has been out for three days now, and I’m down to my final set of flashlight batteries. I don’t hear the others moving around anymore, though, so maybe the craft has gone back to sleep. I’ll wait a few more hours and then try to get out. If it won’t let me, I’ll at least do what I can to make sure no one else can get in.

Dr. Magnus Kozakov. June 27, 1946

“Nineteen forty-six?” Joel said.

“The bookcase,” Leah said.

Joel looked around, thinking she was talking about something in the room.

“No,” she said. “In the cold room at the top of the stairs. The bookcase that blocked the door. He must have put it there.”

“Didn’t really keep us out, though, did it?”

She looked at the notepad. “Maybe it was the best he could do.”

They searched the rest of the room for anything that might help them, and then, taking the notepad with them, moved down to the director’s office.

Joel was rifling through the desk when Leah said, “Where’s Mike?”

He looked up and glanced around. Mike wasn’t in the room. “Wasn’t he right behind us?”

“I thought so.”

They moved into the hall. No Mike. They sprinted back to Dr. Kozakov’s office.

But it was empty, too.

N
INETY-FOUR

Mike

M
IKE FOLLOWED LEAH
and Joel out of the office and down the hall toward the next door. His friends entered, but before he could do the same, the Reclaimer touched his mind.

::COME.

No.

::COME. REVEAL.

I won’t.

::COME. REVEAL. IF NOT, THEN SATELLITES’ TERMINATION GUARANTEED.

Mike began to rock. The Reclaimer’s words weren’t a threat. As far as Mike was aware, she was incapable of making one. So if he did not do as she asked, she would attempt to kill Leah and Joel. If she succeeded, it would be his fault. He could not—could not, could not—allow his friends to die.

If I come, you will allow my friends to return to the surface and-and-and guarantee they will not, will not be terminated.

The Reclaimer took a long moment before responding.

::IF COOPERATION IS TOTAL, THEN TERMS ACCEPTABLE.

You’ll have my, my total cooperation.

::NEGOTIATIONS CONCLUDED. COME. REVEAL.

Mike wanted to see his friends one last time. To hear their voices. To feel them near. But he could not take the chance they would stop him from leaving, so he turned and quietly made his way back to the stairwell.

N
INETY-FIVE

The Reclaimer

A
FTER RUNNING AN
analysis, the Reclaimer accepted the Translator’s requests. Whether the Satellites died now or in the general extermination after data gathering was complete ultimately did not matter.

Backup solution—revised:
Keep Satellites alive. If sufficient information is extracted from Translator, release Satellites. If Translator dies during data transfer, mine Satellites’ memories and then terminate Satellites.

N
INETY-SIX

Leah

J
OEL AND LEAH
checked every room on the floor, but Mike wasn’t there.

“He must have gone back up,” Joel said. “Can you reach him?”

Leah attempted to connect to Mike, but either he was blocking her or something else was because she couldn’t find any hint of him.

They hurried up the stairs, burst into the hallway, and skidded to a stop. Standing twenty feet away was a Doer. Backlit by one of the safety lights, its face wasn’t visible, but the mere fact that it was standing meant it wasn’t Antonio.

“So I’m thinking Mike’s that way somewhere,” Leah said, nodding past the Doer.

As she took a step forward, the Doer raised a hand like a traffic cop, showing them its palm.

Leah continued forward, thinking they could scoot around the side of it, but the Doer raised its other hand—holding a heavy metal wrench. It drew it behind its head, preparing to throw, and in the process stepped back far enough so that the light shined down on its face.

Leah froze. “Courtney?”

Courtney’s skin was as hairless and gray as Antonio’s, and her eyes just as dead. A deep scar ran down her face, from her forehead through the corner of her mouth and onto her chin.

“Courtney, it’s Leah. I know you remember me. Just put that down, okay?” She chanced another step.

The arm with the wrench cocked back an inch as Courtney’s mouth opened. “Ssssttttoooopppp.” There was no emotion in her voice, only a drawn-out monotone.

“Camp Red Hawk. You slept in the bunk below me.”

Not a twitch or tic.

Joel moved in behind Leah and whispered, “Whatever that is, it’s not Courtney anymore. I’ll grab her so you can get by.”

“She might still be in there somewhere.”

“We don’t have time to find out. We need to find Mike.”

He was right. She was about to nod when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught the swing of Courtney’s arm. She threw her hand out and snagged the hurling wrench from midair, stopping it just inches before it would have split Joel’s forehead open.

“Whoa!” he said.

Courtney moved toward them. Forward-pause-drag, forward-pause-drag, forward-pause-drag.

She had been the one in the meadow, Leah thought.

“Get ready,” Joel said.

He rushed forward and grabbed Courtney around the ribs. The girl—Doer, whatever she was—slammed her fists into his back.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Joel lifted her off her feet and swung around so that he was facing Leah. From his winces, Leah could tell Courtney’s arms were much stronger than her legs. It didn’t help that Courtney was squirming back and forth, making it difficult for him to hold on to her.

“The door,” he said, jutting his chin toward the wall.

Leah, who’d been about to race past them, skidded along the concrete floor before readjusting her path to the door in question. After she yanked it open, Joel rushed by, barely getting Courtney inside before she wiggled free and fell onto the floor.

The moment he was out of the room, Leah pulled the door shut.

Still holding the handle, she said, “The wrench! Jam it under!”

Joel grabbed the tool and shoved it as far as he could into the narrow gap at the bottom of the door. Before he finished, the handle began to turn from the other side. Courtney moaned something too garbled to understand.

Joel stepped back from the door. “That should hold.”

“Are you sure?”

He hesitated. “I think so.”

As soon as Leah removed her hands from the handle, the door moved. She reached for it again, but then the underside finally caught on the wrench and the door ground to a halt. Courtney slipped her fingers through the gap and pulled.

“Let’s go,” Leah said.

They ran down the hall. Doors flew past on their left, but Leah was sure Mike wasn’t behind any of them. The door she had in her sights was the solitary one on the right. Given that Joel was keeping pace with her, he’d clearly had the same thought.

When they reached it, they found that instead of having a simple handle like all the other doors, this one had a long flat bar, currently in the up position. Leah gave it a tug but it didn’t budge.

“Locked,” she said.

Joel quickly examined the door. “I don’t see any kind of keyhole or anything.”

Leah tried the bar again, this time using her superior strength. It groaned and started to move.

Joel added his hands to hers and they both pulled. The bar crept downward, then—

Pop!

Leah and Joel jumped back as the handle dropped all the way to the open position. She was sure they had broken the mechanism and now the door could be opened only from the inside. But when Joel grabbed the bar and pulled, the door moved.