The coal-testing lab beneath the abandoned textile mill was not empty.
Cattleya realized it three seconds after the iron deadbolt clicked into place behind them. Her internal bio-mapping, tuned to absolute stillness in the dark, caught a frequency that didn't belong to the hum of the factory grid above or the steady, shallow rattling of Rusty”s lungs.
It was a sound like dry parchment dragging across velvet. Ch-ch-ch-ch.
"Rusty," Cattleya said, her voice dropping into a razor-thin whisper. "Do not ignite the gas lamps."
Rusty froze, his hand trembling an inch from the iron gas valve on the wall. "What... what is it?"
"Atmospheric pressure dropping," Cattleya murmured, her grey eyes dilating until the grey irises were thin rings around black abysses. "Local temperature decreased by fou
