“Under the table!” Whittaker Fiske shouted, practically dragging Marmion after him as the two of them, closely followed by the other committee members, hogged the most sturdily built piece of furniture in the room. Before Matthew could join them, they were joined by Marmion’s over qualified secretary, and there was literally no room for another body to squeeze in. Or so he thought, until he spied one far corner unoccupied and dove for it, only to be knocked away by Braddock Makem, the sniveling coward.
“Get out of there at once, Braddock!” Matthew commanded, or he meant to sound commanding. He was appalled at how his normally controlled decibels elevated into panickysounding squeals. “Where’s your sense of priorities? I’m the commissioner here.”
The guards stationed in the room and othershe wasn’t sure whoseemed to be trying to beat in the door, or break out a window, permitting the mist to flow more freely through the shambles of a committee room A loud crash suggested that the main screen had fallen victim to the earthquake.
Matthew heard someone screeching for help and to his chagrin realized the voice was his own. Never mind. This was an emergency and he had been deserted by his colleagues. No time for niceties. “Help!” he screamed again.
“Try apologizing to the planet, Matthew!” Marmion bellowed over the crashings, splinterings, bangings, and other sounds of rending wood, plastic, and plaster. Ha! Easy enough for her to taunt him when she was protected by the table.
“Tell it you believe, Matthew!” Whittaker Fiske hollered as well. It was the last thing Matthew heard as the entire building convulsed; he felt wetness warm the crotch of his trousers and slide down his leg, and, as the sound of the tumult was drowned out by a roar that came from within his own head and the snow from the comm screen seemed to be affecting his eyesight, he followed his own urine onto the floor.
Whittaker Fiske nearly choked because he had been trying to yell to Luzon and laugh at the same time. The floor abruptly canted to the far end of the committee room. The table and those it sheltered were willy-nilly propelled downhill. Whittaker, one arm crooked around the table leg nearest him, managed to grab hold of Marmion, who caught Sally by the shoulder. Bal, Chas. and Nexim helplessly slid downward. Losing his footing, Luzon was rolled lengthwise against the table’s sturdy legs and caught there. A tangle of uniformed limbs pressed him even harder against the table legs, and he began shouting warnings and dire imprecations against those who had him unwillingly pinned against the furniture.
The grinding noises increased, drowning out all other sounds, and then, with a mighty swooshing sound, the walls and roof of the commissioners’ room collapsed over the table, which stolidly bore the extra weight, though some of the surface veneer audibly cracked.
The ensuing silence, as the swirling mist settled on everyone, was almost worse than the horrific bombardment of noise had been. Then a breeze, most peculiarly scented with floral aromas, wafted through the damaged room, settling the dust caused by the building’s collapse and dispersing the mist.
“Marmion?” Whittaker asked, shaking his head to clear it from both the tumbling he had endured and the residue of the mist.
“I’m fine, shaken, but not bruised, thanks to your quick grab.” she said, though her skirt was ripped and her blouse torn. ”Sally?”
“Okay, I think!”
Whittaker completed the roll call; the names he called out were answered by either groans or curses.
“Matthew?” Whittaker asked with some anxiety. It would be awfully awkward if the planet had inadvertently caused the death of Vice-Chairman Matthew Luzon. That could be considered vengeful, not that he didn’t deserve it with his notion of removing all the Petaybeans and cutting the planet into bits.
“He’s alive, sir, but unconscious,” a deep male voice said. “I think it’s all over andoh, my God!”
“What? What’s the matter?” Marmion asked, duly concerned by the awe and respect in that slowly enunciated epithet. She looked about her for a way out from under the table, but the walls and roof seemed to have collapsed to cover everything except for the spot kept open by Matthew’s unconscious body.