A huge control booth filled the right side of the reactor room, with a pair of desiccated corpses in U.S. Army uniforms sitting at the complex panels. Ryan was impressed. For the bodies to be in that good condition after a hundred years, the booth had to be absolutely air tight. Damn good workmanship.
To the left was a still pool of clear water, with a maze of bubbling pipes and a steady glowing light at the bottom. Mildred had once explained that the glow was actually a powerful laser flashing a million times a second, but to the naked eye it seemed like a smooth shine. Ryan didn’t care. Some levels of tech in the redoubts were far beyond his understanding. As long as the predark machinery maintained itself and continued pouring out electricity to run the redoubt, basically that was all he cared about.
Just then, something familiar caught his attention, and Ryan quickly went to reclaim his longblaster. The Steyr SSG-70 bolt-action rifle was undamaged, but the rotary clip in the breech was exhausted, and there were no more mags in his ammo pouch. Ryan shouldered the useless weapon. Even though they had no ammo right now, the companions sometimes found stores of weapons and ammo in the redoubts. Then he recalled where they were and bitterly cursed. The last time they had been here, the redoubt was completely clean, not a can of beans or a single live round remaining in the whole place. Plus, the mat-trans unit was turned off. Or had he imagined that? They would have to check the chamber first thing. That was top priority. Without some way out of here, they could be hit by the microwaves again, and the one-eyed warrior didn’t think any of them could survive another bombardment like the last one.
“Hey, lover,” Krysty said, limping across the room. Her flawless face was flushed from the effort of standing, but the woman was walking under her own power, the wild corona of her hair waving as if stirred by secret winds.
Ryan considered that a good sign. She had to be on the mend.
“Feeling better?” Ryan asked, reaching out to stroke her cheek. The filaments of her fiery hair coiled about his fingers, pulling the man closer.
Krysty took his callused hand in hers and gave a squeeze. “Still alive,” she remarked, trying to conjure a laugh and only managing to weakly smile. “Which is a lot more than we can say about Silas, so I can’t really complain.”
For the nth time, Ryan realized how truly beautiful she was, his perfect match in every possible way, and a brief smile crossed his scarred face.
“I am most pleased to see you up and about, my dear Krysty,” Doc said with a stately bow. “We were worried there for a moment.”
“I’m fine, just starving,” Krysty added softly, her stomach loudly rumbling. “Any of the MRE packs around?”
Ryan’s own gut growled in harmony. “Not a crumb. We’ll have to go hunting in the upper levels for anything edible still in storage. But checking the mat-trans unit is our top priority.”
“Just in case we have to leave fast. Understood. But then food.”
“Absolutely.”
Doc cleared his throat. “Do you still require my coat, madam? If so, it is yours.”
She shook out the frock coat and passed it over. “I’m not cold anymore,” Krysty replied. “Thanks for the pillow.”
“My pleasure. But you should thank the good doctor.” He smiled. “I did nothing special.”
“Aw, stuff it, you old coot,” Mildred retorted.
“Hey, what’s that?” Dean asked, pointing across the room.
Instantly, the adults spun with their weapons at the ready. There was something large and metallic hidden in the shadows underneath the stairs.
“Another door?” Jak asked, sliding a knife from his sleeve. “Never see before.”
Checking his blaster, Ryan walked closer, with the rest of the companions close behind. Mildred flicked her butane lighter, and in the flickering flame they saw a large armored door set in the concrete wall. The frame was burnished steel, the massive portal veined with reinforcing flanges and bars.
“A second armory?” Dean asked hopefully.
Working the bolt on his Uzi, J.B. scowled. “Could be anything.”
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