borrowed. Lending, Josh would accept, if not giving, augmenting his small
wardrobe so that he could come and go in the offices without undue attention.
Damon held the door button, instructed the office outside to delay calls for two
hours.
“Back at one,” the secretary acknowledged, and turned to take an incoming call.
Damon motioned Josh on through into the outer corridor.
“A half an hour at the gym,” Damon said, “then a sandwich at the concourse. I’m
hungry.”
“Fine,” Josh said. He looked nervously about him. Damon looked too, and felt
uneasy. The corridors had very little traffic even yet. People were just not
trusting of the situation. : Some troops stood, distantly visible.
“The troops should all be pulled back,” he said to Josh, “by the end of this
week. Our own security is taking over entirely in white; green maybe in two
days. Have patience. We’re working on it.”
“They’ll still do what they want,” Josh said somberly.
“Huh. Did Mallory, after all?”
A shadow came on Josh’s face. “I don’t know. When I think about it, I still
don’t know.”
“Believe me.” They had reached the lift, alone. A trooper stood at the corner of
another corridor, a fact in the tail of the eye, nothing remarkable. He pushed
the code for the core. “Had a bit of good news come in this morning. My brother
called up, said things are smoothing out down there.”
“I’m glad,” Josh murmured.
The trooper moved suddenly. Came toward them. Damon looked. Others further down
the hall started moving, all of them, at a near run. “Abort that,” the first
trooper snapped, reaching them. She reached for the panel herself. “We’re on a
call.”
“I can get you a priority,” Damon said—to be rid of them. The move indicated
trouble; he thought of them shoving stationers around on other levels.
“Do it.”
He took his card from his pocket, thrust it into the slot and coded his
priority; the lights went red. The rest of the troopers arrived as the car did,
and armored shoulders pushed them aside as the troops all crowded in, leaving
them there. The car whisked away, nonstop for whatever destination they had
coded from inside. There was not a trooper left in the corridor. Damon looked at
Josh, whose face was pale and set.
“We take the next car,” Damon said with a shrug. He was himself disturbed, and
quietly coded in blue nine.
“Elene?” Josh asked.
“Want to get down there,” he said. “You come with me. If there’s trouble, it’s
likely to end up on the dockside. I want to get down there.”
The car delayed in coming. He waited several moments and finally used his card a
second time, a second priority; the lights went red, signifying a car on
priority call, then blinked, signifying nothing available. He slammed his fist
against the wall, cast a second look at Josh. It was far to walk; easier to wait
for a car to free itself… quicker in the long run.
He walked over to the nearest com unit, keyed in on priority, while Josh stood
waiting by the lift doors. “Hold the car if it comes,” he said to Josh, punched
the call in. “Com Central, this is Damon Konstantin on emergency. We’re seeing
troops pulling out on the run. What’s going on?”
There was a long delay. “Mr. Konstantin,” a voice came back, “this is a public
com unit.”
“Not at the moment, central. What’s going on?”
“General alert. Emergency posts, please.”
“What’s going on?”
Com had cut itself off. A measured siren began to sound. Red lights began to
pulse in the overheads. People came out of the offices, looked at one another as
if hoping it was drill, or mistaken. His own secretary was outside, far down the
hall.
“Get back inside,” he shouted. “Get those doors shut.” People moved backward,
retreated into offices. The red light by Josh’s shoulder was still blinking,
indicating no car available: every car in the system must have jammed up down at
the docks.
“Come on,” he said to Josh, motioned toward the end of the hall. Josh looked
confused and he strode over, caught Josh by the arm. “Come on.”