Chapter 12
Will
Ronnie walked like a man perpetually five minutes behind schedule—intense and clearly not someone who wasted time on small talk with strangers.
Not the best company as we headed for the server rooms, but the important part was his lanyard with the white Mnemis logo.
Same color as Claire’s and the head of security.
And as we’d learned during our safety briefing, it was the highest level of access.
“Pacific Section’s through here,” he said, swiping his ID card before going through another X-ray machine.
We were past the guards in record time—no surprise, since the last guards had confiscated everything but my belt.
“All server areas are named after oceans. Makes it easier to coordinate when something goes wrong.”
The temperature dropped as we entered. Not uncomfortably cold, but I’d need proper pants and a long-sleeved shirt tomorrow. “How many sections are there?”
“Five main ones.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Pacific, Atlantic, Indian, Arctic, Southern. Each has its own backup generators and cooling systems. Fully independent. If one section has a critical failure, we can transition server loads to the others.”
“That level of redundancy must require a lot of maintenance.” The engineering was stunning. Each section was effectively a self-contained data center within the larger facility. Every fiber of my being begged to examine the system architecture more closely.
“We practice full section transfers every quarter,” Ronnie continued. “Complete pain in the ass, but necessary. Takes about seventy-two hours to move everything.”
Fascinating. That kind of all-hands-on-deck operation would significantly alter normal security patterns.
“What about—” I started, but stopped as we rounded a corner.
Three technicians stood chatting near a server rack, clearly not working. When they spotted Ronnie, they immediately scattered, muttering hasty greetings. Either they feared or respected him, but either way, he was quickly becoming the ally I needed.
“Maintenance comes first, gossip later,” Ronnie called after them, continuing without slowing.
The hallways formed a labyrinth of climate-controlled corridors, each leading to different server rooms. I mentally traced our path, noting the locations of security cameras, access panels, and emergency exits.
The facility was far more complex than I’d understood from Gideon’s briefing.
We’d have to find a way to load the Mnemis app onto our phones so we could study the map.
We stopped at a supply alcove, where several maintenance carts were parked. Ronnie grabbed one, placed his toolbox on top, and tapped his ID card to a scanner on the cart’s side. From there, he pushed the cart alongside shelves full of QR-coded bins.
“The cart already has all the tools you’d need. Why lug your own toolbox around?”
He patted the box. “They’re my lucky tools.”
“Fair.” I had tools like that back home—devices I’d modified to perfection over the years that fit my hands perfectly. I understood completely. “What do we need?”
“Cables, fiber splicing kit, memory modules, a couple of replacement fans.” He loaded each item into the cart, running them over the scanner built into the side. “And power modules. Always grab extras.”
Extras? He’d grabbed more than simply extras. He’d loaded the cart with several items we wouldn’t need for cable work. He must have had other plans.
Ronnie pushed it out of the maintenance alcove, and we finally entered the server room proper.
It was more elegant than I’d expected. Gideon had told us they used liquid cooling, but I’d still braced for the deafening roar of fans and the bone-dry, metallic reek of overheated machines.
Instead, a soft hum pulsed through the floor, loud enough I’d have to raise my voice, but there’d be no yelling or ear protection required.
Look impressed, Will. This wasn’t in the employee orientation manual. “It’s surprisingly quiet.”
“Liquid cooling,” Ronnie said, speaking louder. “Plus acoustic baffling. You’ll get used to it.”
In place of the industrial cages I was familiar with in other facilities, the racks here were individually enclosed in sleek, ventilated housings.
Low-profile polycarbonate casings locked tight around the gear, fronted by transparent panels offering visibility without compromising security.
Mounted on each rack door, another scanner provided access rather than a key slot.
Overhead, color-coded cable trays cradled neatly bundled lines—fiber, power, and copper—that ran like organized veins across the ceiling.
Every server in the row emitted a blue glow, except for two of them. Two glowed red.
“Blue to show they’re working, red to show it needs our attention?”
He grunted in affirmation and tapped his ID on the door in front of one of the servers that was glowing red. A green light blinked once, and the magnetic lock released with a soft click.
“Don’t bother trying your card,” he said, without looking at me. “Greenie badges don’t open anything in the server sections.”
Shit. Gideon hadn’t told us about that part, either. Was it one of the rules his team down here changed without advising the outside world? Our mission timeline didn’t allow for three months of probation. We’d need to find another way into these servers or accelerate our upgrades somehow.
“Who can access them?” I asked, trying to sound merely curious rather than calculating.
“Yellow badges and up. Different clearance levels for different sections.” He handed me a coil of fiber optic cable from the cart. “Hold this.”
As I took the cable, I let my gaze drift across our aisle—one row of many in the cavernous space. Slim surveillance domes were mounted at regular intervals along the ceiling grid. Rav would have access to the feeds. Had he been able to search for blind spots yet?
“The Bridge gets all the fancy equipment while we’re down here doing the actual work,” Ronnie grumbled, kneeling to access a lower server. “Half these kids don’t appreciate what they’ve got.”
Another technician arrived, stopping farther down the row, at the other red server. He nodded to Ronnie before unlocking the enclosure.
“Aren’t you on tomorrow’s incoming rotation, Ron?” The tech had warm skin and prominent cheekbones, with short black hair. “You just got here.”
“I heard one of your team was planning a cable upgrade before you all take off,” Ronnie shot back. “Figured I’d handle it now before someone makes a mess I’d have to fix later.”
The tech laughed. “Some of us manage to complete tasks without disasters.”
“Is that why I spent my last rotation fixing three separate ‘non-disasters’?” Ronnie retorted, but there was no real heat in it. Was his grumpy old man act just for show? “Jin, this is Will. New technician.”
Jin gave me a sympathetic grin. “Got stuck with Ronnie on day one? Someone up there hates you.”
“Don’t scare him off,” Ronnie said. “He’s actually competent. I need more people who can tell a router from a toaster.”
“High praise,” Jin chuckled. “Be careful, Will. Next, he’ll be asking you to help with his weekend projects.”
After Jin wheeled his cart away, I asked, “How long have you been with Mnemis?”
“Six years,” he said, deftly splicing cables together. “Came from Google’s Singapore facility before that.”
“Why’d you leave them?”
Without looking at me or answering, he held out his hand. “Crimper.”
It was all a test. I handed him the tool as though I were aiding in surgery.
For the next hour, I assisted Ronnie with various maintenance tasks, well beyond the single cable upgrade we’d originally come to the server room for.
“Do you always work so much before your shift starts?” I eventually asked.
Ronnie shrugged. “Equipment doesn’t know what day it is.”
That must have been his way of saying he regularly worked early, and it explained why he’d loaded up the cart. This was a man who loved his job.
“There’s a hurricane approaching,” I ventured as we moved to another aisle. “Any special protocols for severe weather?”
“We’ll run some extra tests on the backup generators, but that’s standard procedure. Dorian hit in 2019 during my first year. That was stressful, but Mnemis barely blinked.” He parked the cart and paused before unlocking the next server rack. “We were still setting up The Deep back then.”
That sounded ominous. “The Deep?”
“The resort topside was decimated,” he said, either ignoring or not hearing my question. “I was afraid they’d abandon the resort and shut the data center down, but money can fix a lot of things. The repairs only took them eight months.”
Part of me wanted to find out more about The Deep. But I had a job to do.
So, I absorbed everything I could, both appreciating the design while identifying potential access points.
Each server had diagnostic ports—standardized interfaces that allowed technicians to connect directly to the systems for testing and maintenance.
With the right hardware, those ports might provide the access we’d need.
Doubtful any of it would work with my green ID card.
As if someone inside Mnemis could read my thoughts, Ronnie’s phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and read a text, grumbling, “Security wants to know why we’ve been at cluster thirteen for forty-five minutes. Like I don’t know how to do my damn job.”
“Is that normal?”
“For greenies, yeah. They watch the new folks closely.” He typed a response, thumbs jabbing at the screen as he read along. “Training one of the new guys. Take it up with HR if you have a problem.”
Another element Tremaine hadn’t mentioned—heightened security for new employees.
After dropping his phone unceremoniously onto the maintenance cart, Ronnie waved me down to the bottom server. “My knees are killing me. I want you to take care of this one.”
“Sure.” Following his direction, I removed the screws to pull the bottommost server out on its slide. “Whose server is this?”
“No idea. Everything’s encrypted.” Ronnie grabbed the memory modules from our cart and sat on the floor, leaning against the clear doors of the server next to me.
“The softies up in The Bridge can access some of that, for when they’re taking client calls.
But us? They just tell us which server to work on. I like it that way. Less liability.”
“Does the software support team ever come down here?” And was there a way for me to get Brie access?
“For local updates, yeah.” Ronnie handed me a module. “We need to escort them, since those updates often need additional power or network configurations. Why?”
“Just wondering about the workflow.” I snapped the module into place. “My wife’s on the support team. Trying to understand how our jobs intersect.”
“Speaking of which, what shift are you on this rotation?” He handed me the next module, and I snapped it into place as well.
“Noon.”
“Perfect, me too. I’ll talk to someone about getting you assigned to work with me,” he said, rubbing his left knee. “You’re not too bad at the job. Better than the last newbie they sent me.”
Sliding the server back into place, I said, “I appreciate it.”
If white logos had the highest level of access, Ronnie was a good friend to have inside.
As he stood, his phone buzzed again. He answered the call with a curt “Yeah?” then frowned deeply. “I’m not on duty until tomorrow.” He listened, sighing heavily. “Fine. Because I’m the only one who’ll fix the damn thing properly. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
He hung up, shaking his head. “Power spike on a server in the Deep. Some idiot tried replacing a power supply without a proper bypass procedure.”
It was getting late, and Brie would be wondering where I was. But The Deep sounded far too interesting to pass up. “Need help?”
“You’re not even allowed inside without a yellow badge.” Ronnie’s perpetual frown shifted into a smirk. “But fuck it. It’s a bottom unit again. I hate those.”
“If I’m not—”
He put up a hand to cut me off and made another call.
“Derek, I’m headed to The Deep, and I’m bringing a new guy with me.
” He paused, rolling his eyes. “I damn well can take him in with me. So, you call your guards and give them the heads-up. I don’t need anyone hassling me for bringing a greenie in with me. ”
Apparently, Ronnie had more pull than I’d expected.
“Fucking security,” he muttered as he pocketed his phone.
Accessing a restricted area before my first shift had even started?
Score one for me.