The Redevelopment Commission Steps In
1271 Words
The remains of fluorescent lights dangled and swayed among the aluminum ceiling, and emergency lighting cast elongated and distorted silhouettes on the confetti-covered floor. The smell of burnt paste mingled with the stench of sweat condensed in the air-conditioned, defunct air, and the sound of alarms intermittently pierced eardrums. Diana leaned against the edge of the bulkhead, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing the edge of the scalded desktop, her retinas lingering with the indigo residue of the data stream that had exploded moments before.
"All personnel remain in position!" Rogers' suit collar was askew, his walkie-talkie pressed against his sweaty cheek, "The fire system has overridden, and the tech team is quarantining the servers in Sector B."
Mark kicked away the shards of keyboard at his feet, "Quarantine? They should send the whole building to the incinerator!" His cuffs were stained with printing toner, tracing the vignettes in the dim light with the gestures.
Diana swallowed the metallic taste in her throat, "I still have the manual backup." She patted her uniform pocket, the corners of her leather notebook choking her ribs through the fabric.
"Good." Rogers' intercom burst into a current murmur, "Reconstruction Commission representatives have arrived at the Hub elevator - gentlemen, remember the disclosure protocols."
The muffled sound of mechanical latches engaging came from the elevator shaft. The heels of their shoes struck the floor tiles in perfect synchronization as the twelve black-clad figures stepped out of the car. The leader removed his protective goggles, his pupils glowing with a metallic-like luster under the emergency lights." Supervisor Rogers? Crisis Response Team, Commission Division 7." He unfolded the electronic tablet, the glass screen surface reflecting the clumps of exposed wires in the ceiling.
"Damage assessment is being..." Rogers was interrupted just as he opened his mouth by the gesture of the tablet being handed to him.
"All anomalous data streams for timestamps 14:32 to 15:07 have been uploaded to the central server." The representative's finger traced the screen and Diana saw her workstation number flash at the top of the list, "We need to question the person responsible for the data interface directly."
Mark snorted out a laugh, "Interface? Even calculators nowadays-"
"Ms. Crane." The representative turned to Diana, the flat panel suddenly projecting a three-dimensional energy distribution map, "Explain the static anomaly readings during the peak."
A bitter taste flared on her tongue, "Central air conditioning over dehumidifying all synthetic fiber carpets-"
"Humidity sensor records show 58% relative humidity for the time period." The representative tapped the tablet and the chart instantly switched to a molecular motion simulation, "Your bioelectrical impedance fluctuations are positively correlated with equipment failure."
Rogers took a half step forward, "Is the committee over-interpreting-"
"Mr. Supervisor." The representative didn't even turn his head, "The same frequency shock on the Tokyo exchange three hours ago, you think it was an air conditioning malfunction as well?" He suddenly twitched his nose, "Interesting... There are still ionization trails in the air."
Diana's spine tensed suddenly. She saw a blue light flash under the skin on the side of the delegate's neck, like the indicator light of a subcutaneous implant.
"Physical examination of each compartment, one by one!" Rogers suddenly raised his voice, "The medical team is just-"
"Not necessary." The representative raised his hand to stop it, his metal finger cuffs brushing against the cord of Diana's work badge, "We'll need Ms. Crane's complete handwritten records. Now."
As she drew the notebook from her pocket, an electric spark erupted between the pages, causing both committee members to pull back at the same time. Instead, the representative took half a step closer, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints, "Secondary energy escape... You've been exposed to radioactive sources recently?"
"Only the daily microwave." Diana forced her fingertips to stop trembling. She noticed the rep consistently avoided all grounded metals.
Mark interjected suddenly, "What the hell are you guys looking for? An alien invasion?"
The rep finally doled out a glance at him, "We're looking for something more troublesome than aliens - primates who think they can control chaos." He suddenly twitched his nose and turned to the southeast corner, "Whose terminal is that over there?"
All eyes focused on the smoking server cabinet. Diana felt a burning climb in the back of her neck, like something was hatching upward along her spinal cord. She clutched her notebook, the leather cover suddenly becoming hot.
"Any data manipulation is prohibited until evacuation is complete!" Rogers tried to block the committee members from approaching the cabinet, only to be gently grated away by the metal finger cuffs.
The representative stroked the cabinet scorch marks, "You know what? In the 1980s, a janitor caused the Dow to plummet by wiping the servers with a magnet..." He suddenly tore open the warped cabinet door with great force, "But this time the heat spectrum shows an endogenous eruption."
Diana saw her reflection bobbing on the twisted metal. As the scanner the rep pulled out beeped, she realized the pen in her pants pocket was glowing and melting.
"Interesting." Delegate picked up the melted plastic remains with tweezers, "Non-contact energy transfer... Like the one in Zurich last week."
Rogers' voice took on a crack, "Is the committee implying-"
"We're confirming it." The representative suddenly pointed the scanner at Diana, "Ma'am, please repeat everything that was consumed this morning."
Her temples began to throb. Through the corner of her eye, she saw the scanner readings fluctuate in rhythm with her breathing." Coffee, yogurt, anti-anxiety pills - do you need the bottle numbers?"
The representative abruptly turned off the scanner, "Not necessary." He turned to Rogers, "We need three hours of uninterrupted access from..." The wristwatch projected a holographic clock, "Starting at 18:00 sharp."
As the black-clad team retreated toward the elevator, Diana heard the crunch of debris crushing against the soles of her own shoes. The rep cast one last glance before the car closed, her pupils reflecting the static arcs that jumped from her hands.
"The mad dogs are gone." Mark kicked the warped cabinet, "So we're really going to be hand accounting tonight?"
Rogers rubbed his brow, "All electronic equipment is sealed for inspection and the committee is going to do a deep field scan." He suddenly lowered his voice, "Diana, you'd better-"
"I know." She interrupted, her nails sinking into old wounds in her palms, "Chapter 7 of the data security protocols, suspicious equipment is to be reported immediately."
But as twilight stained the broken glass on the floor through the blast windows, Diana spread her palm in the women's restroom cubicle. A ghostly blue fissure was pulsing under the skin, engulfing the metal coating on the cap of the hand sanitizer bottle. In the distance came the crash of a roll-up door falling into lock, and the committee's scanner beeped like some living thing breathing in the darkness.
She stared out the fading window as the neon of Wall Street began to light up like oozing sores. The notebook burned in her palm, scorch marks flooding the curled edges of the pages. It was time to find out if this was blessed or cursed - while the entire building's surveillance system was focused on the smug hunters.
There was a sudden groan of twisted metal from the ventilation ducts, like something was crawling down the steel bones toward the top floor shelter. Diana pressed her trembling fingertips to the cold tiles, letting those blue lights weave cobwebs under the glaze. Tonight she would measure the frontiers of the Void, even if the price was to become yet another numbered vessel in the Committee's specimen vault.
- Writer
