Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
BASTIAN
The route to the security room is clear, and foreboding simmers in my stomach.
I quash it and set my mind to the task in front of me.
What kind of security protocols will I have to disable?
In my life before the fall, I’d built things, tinkered with technology and computer programs, but after two decades of being without any decent kind of hardware or software, I’m rusty.
Still, I can’t fail.
I doubt the celestials will have top-of-the-line stuff. At least, I hope they don’t. We hit the stairwell leading to the security floor, and with the alarms blaring, it is impossible to hear if anyone is headed down toward us from an upper level.
But once again, we make it up the stairs and onto the first floor without incident. The lights here are dim and tinged red, the alarm much louder, so it makes it harder to think.
I grit my teeth and hurry toward the security room. No celestials block our path, and my foreboding grows, but then we are at a door blocking off the corridor to the security room, and my gaze lifts to the symbol above it.
The warning for radiation.
“I know that symbol,” Bee says. “We learned it in scout training.” Her eyes go wide. “Radiation.”
The figures beneath the symbol explain how much radiation, and my stomach drops.
“Oh…” Bee covers her mouth. “That dose…that’s lethal.”
She’s right. The amount of radiation beyond this door will be lethal without the proper gear.
“We need to find the proper clothing,” Bee says.
I look to Tumiel and see my hunch written all over his face. There won’t be any gear. “Celestials aren’t affected by radiation, are they?”
“No,” Tumiel says. “Which means the signs are for the benefit of humans. To warn them not to venture farther. The Dominions obviously plan to bring humans to work here at some point soon.”
“Then what do we do?” Bee asks.
“I can go,” Tumiel says. “Bastian can tell me what to do.”
If only it was that simple. “I won’t know what to do until I get into the room and into their systems.” A strange calm comes over me as the inevitable conclusion settles in my mind. “It has to be me.”
“What?” Bee looks from me to Tumiel, then back again. “No. You’ll die if you go inside.”
I give her a wry smile, ignoring the yawning pit inside me that’s already mourning the loss of what little time I have left. “I’m already dying, and there’s no time for arguments. This has to be done, and I’m the only one who can do it.”
Her eyes well. “Bastian…”
Yeah, she knows it, and so does Tumiel. He stands hands fisted, jaw tight with rage.
“Hey, when this is over, when the world is back to rights, make sure my soul gets to where it needs to be, would you?”
Tumiel’s eyes well, and he exhales sharply before pulling me in for a hug. “I will find you, my friend. I swear it.” His tone is thick with emotion, and my heart squeezes painfully in my chest.
I break the hug, only to be enveloped in another by Bee. “I’m sorry,” she sobs. “So sorry.”
“It’s all right. This is good. This is better.
No more waiting and wondering when. I get to go out a hero.
” She sobs harder. “Tell Rue…Tell her I love her. Tell her…tell her goodbye.” I pull away from her and tug my tools from my pocket to set to work on the numeric security panel.
“Go. Get to the central chamber and rendezvous with Rue.”
Bee shakes her head and reaches for me again, but I look to Tumiel. “Take her. Please. Go.” I need to do this alone before I lose my nerve.
He takes Bee’s hand, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Goodbye, friend.”
I turn back to the panel, not wanting to see them leave.
Focus, Bastian. We’re on a fucking clock here in more ways than one.
It doesn’t take long to bypass the lock. I take a deep breath, shut out the terror, and shove open the doors.
The room is bathed in red light, darker than the corridor. I move fast toward the back room and into a space filled with machines and huge cylindrical cannisters marked with the radioactive symbol. A network of pipes connects them all, and suddenly it all makes sense.
This is their fuel.
This place is powered by radioactive material.
I need to shut it down.
My head swims as I park my ass at the control panel and work on accessing the system. It doesn’t take long. The system is basic.
My stomach aches, and a wave of nausea washes over me. I start going through the shutdown protocols one by one. There are so many. Layers and layers. The fuel powers everything. This intricate, lethal machine is one huge bomb waiting to be detonated.
And maybe that’s exactly what it is. Maybe this is their insurance policy against us. Bile shoots up my throat, and I swallow it down, blinking against the sharp pain in my head.
A tremor fills my body, and I grit my teeth and continue hitting keys until the last piston has been shut down.
The alarms die, and silence allows me to hear the rush of blood in my head.
It’s done.
I’m done.
I tug the radio from my pocket, fighting the tremor in my limbs, and depress the button.