CHAPTER 53 - Elara
“The encryption is holding,” I shouted over the hum of the core. “But they've noticed the power draw! Sylas, the elevator shafts are recycling!”
Suddenly, a sharp, red warning light began to flash on the auxiliary console across the room. A loud, rhythmic hiss echoed from the ceiling vents.
“They’re locking down the oxygen scrubbers for the entire floor,” Sylas said, his eyes scanning the terminal.
His face went pale. “Vance isn't sending men up.
He's venting the floor from the secondary sub-station down the hall to suffocate the core. The terminal will shut down to protect the hardware if the pressure drops.”
“We can't stop the upload,” I gasped, my breathing already turning slightly shallow as the air grew thin and cold. “If we pull the kindle now, the keys fragment. We lose everything.”
Sylas looked at the progress bar—68%—then looked toward the heavy steel door at the back of the penthouse that led to the auxiliary life-support maintenance shaft.
“The mechanical override valve is in the secondary junction block,” Sylas said, his jaw locked.
“I can manually force the scrubbers open from the inside, but the pressure door will lock automatically once the loop re-engages to prevent a total facility leak. Someone has to stay at the desk to authorize the handshake from this side.”
We had to divide. One at the terminal, one at the valve.
“Go,” I said, pushing his chest. “I’ll handle the console. I’ll watch the upload.”
Sylas stared at me, a brief, agonizing conflict flashing through his gray eyes. He looked at my shoulder, then at the flashing terminal. He didn't know I had just lied to him; he didn't see the secondary diagnostic screen flickering at the bottom of the trunk.
“The moment the air returns, you pull the drive and meet me at the freight lift,” he commanded, his voice thick with an intensity that burned right through me. “We are leaving together, Elara. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” I whispered. “Go.”
He turned and bolted through the maintenance door, his tall figure disappearing into the dark, narrow concrete shaft of the life-support block.
The moment the heavy steel door hissed shut behind him, I dropped back to my knees beneath the desk.
My fingers flew across the glass interface, pulling up the true environmental layout.
Vance hadn't just cut the oxygen. He had initiated a localized halon gas purge in the maintenance shaft to snuff out any manual override attempt.
If Sylas opened that valve, the gas would flood the auxiliary room instantly.
The only way to save him, the only way to keep him breathing long enough to open the vents, was to route the entire halon purge away from his chamber.
And redirect it straight into the penthouse main room.
My breathing hitched. I looked at the progress bar: 82%.
If I didn't redirect the gas, Sylas would die in that shaft in less than ten seconds. If I did redirect it, the penthouse would fill with lethal, invisible gas, and I wouldn't have enough oxygen to reach the freight lift.
I looked at the closed maintenance door. I thought about the cabin, the river rain, and the way he had held my face in the dark, begging me to live.
“I love you,” I whispered to the empty, silent room.
My finger smashed down on the glass terminal, executing the override.
A sharp, violent hiss erupted from the ceiling panels directly above my head. A cold, heavy weight filled the room as the halon gas poured into the penthouse, displacing the remaining oxygen in a matter of seconds.
My lungs burned instantly. I fell back against the white marble base of the desk, my knees buckling as my vision began to fray at the edges, turning a dark, blurry gray. I gasped, but there was nothing to catch, nothing to breathe.
Above me, the column of light gave one final, brilliant flash.
UPLOAD 100% SYSTEM
TRANSFER COMPLETE
MAIN TERMINAL SECURED
The kindle went dark, its green light solid and calm. We had won. He was safe.
My hand slipped from the edge of the desk, my fingers losing their grip as my eyelids turned to absolute lead. The last thing I heard through the heavy, suffocating darkness was the distant, muffled sound of the maintenance door unlocking, and Sylas’s voice screaming my name from a universe away.
Then, the code went completely black.