CHAPTER 3-3
876 Words
Perry, a gregarious bald man who looked old enough to be considering retirement, opened the toolbox on the floor before the console to the transparent tube containing Abby. He squinted into the open top of the box, contemplating something and then looked up at the dim ceiling. The inset lighting just above the area brightened, and the man smiled. “That’s better,” he said. Reaching into the box, he extracted a device that looked like a tuning fork.
Mara crouched next to him and asked, “What kind of tool is that?”
Without looking up, he said, “It’s a depolarizer. I will use it to unseal the side of this control panel.”
“How does it work?”
“The inside surface is covered with a thin film that seals it in place. This tool changes the magnetic properties of that film, releasing the cover. Watch.”
He positioned the tuning fork at the panel corner closest to the floor and moved the tool up the side of the console, across the top and down the other side to the floor again. After replacing the tool in the box, Perry grasped the edge of the panel with his fingertips and pulled it away from the console, revealing a maze of lights, fibers and mechanisms inside.
“Mara?” Dr. Canfield, who stood a few feet away looking at a data pad, called to her. “Come take a look at this.”
Mara straightened and went to her. As she approached, the doctor held out the pad. The screen displayed a chart with three lines on it. One of the lines was relatively flat while the other two climbed toward the upper right corner.
“What’s this?” she asked.
The doctor ran her finger along the flat line and said, “This is the level of anxiety hormones reported in your friend Abby. Normal, not elevated at all. These other two represent a cross-section of receptacle occupants. Virtually all are elevated to some degree.”
“Are Sam and Ping in any danger?”
“Not immediately but don’t you think it is odd that Abby is the only person not affected by the spike? That she’s the only one not feeling this fight-or-flight response?”
“Not if she’s the one causing it,” Mara said.
The doctor frowned at the pad. “I don’t know ...”
“I’m ready to pull the signal processor now,” Perry called out, his voice muffled because his head was inside the opened console. “Are you sure you want me to do it? Once it’s done, it can’t simply be plugged back in.”
“Go ahead and pull it,” the doctor said, still staring at the line chart.
Mara glanced up at Abby in the transparent tube, half expecting to see some kind of reaction on her face. Instead a blossom of bright light reflected off the glass. Mara turned to see several streaks of lightning shoot out the side of the console, arcing along Perry’s spasming body and jumping across the room, where they struck an unoccupied receptacle that exploded, spraying glass for several yards.
Mara and the doctor ran to the open console and crouched next to the limp form lying there.
“Don’t touch him!” the doctor ordered. “He might be carrying some kind of charge.”
Perry rolled over to his side and removed his head from the console. “No, I won’t shock you, but that signal processor sure will. Whew!”
“Are you okay?” Mara asked.
The technician shook his head, as if to check for loose parts. Determining none, he smiled, sat up and said, “I think so.”
“What happened?” the doctor asked.
“When I touched the signal processor, it emitted some kind of electrical pulse. Luckily I was grounded, and the energy was conducted away from me. I think.”
“When I accessed the receptacle schematics, I found no power source running through it,” Mara said.
“There’s none,” Perry said. “There’s not that much power running through the entire console. I’m not sure where the energy is coming from.”
“Were you able to remove the processor?” the doctor asked.
“No, and I won’t try again as long as there’s power running through this system. It’s just too risky for me and for the entire depository. Next time that energy might backtrack into the system and put the occupants at risk.”
“Are you feeling lightheaded? Do you think you can stand up?” the doctor asked.
“I think so,” he said.
She gave Perry a cursory once-over to detect any injury. “You don’t look like you sustained any permanent damage. Do you need medical attention?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m good. Just a little startled, that’s all.”
Mara and the doctor each took one of his arms as Perry stood.
“Very well then,” Dr. Canfield said. “If you would have this mess cleaned up, I would appreciate it.” She turned and walked him toward the door to the hall.
Just as he regained his balance and turned to smile at Mara, she noticed the doctor stiffen as her face went pale.
“What is it?” Mara asked.
“The monitoring lab is recording another spike of fear in the occupants. Worse this time. I’ve got to get back there.”
Mara did a double take. “Wait a minute. What are we to do about Abby, Ping and Sam?” Mara called after her.
Dr. Canfield opened the door, calling over her shoulder, “We’ll discuss it later. Go to the training center to learn how to integrate with your new body.”
“But what about ...” The doctor was gone. Mara looked at Perry and said, “I guess I should take that as a hint I’m not welcome to go with her.”
He gave her a commiserating nod and crouched down to gather his tools.
Mara glanced at her brother’s face in the next receptacle. His brows were furrowed and his jaw clenched. Turning back to Abby’s tube, Mara looked up at her old friend. Serene.
- Writer
