Juliette paused outside Walker’s workshop and knocked before entering. She had heard tell of him being out and about during the uprising, but this was a cog whose teeth refused to align with anything in her head. As far as she was concerned, it was mere legend, a thing to be disbelieved because it hadn’t been seen with her own eyes – similar, she reckoned, to how her jaunt between silos didn’t compute for most people. A rumor. A myth. Who was this woman mechanic who claimed to have seen another land? Stories such as these were dismissed – unless legend took seed and sprouted religion.
“Jules!” Walker peered up from his desk, one of his eyes the size of a tomato through his magnifiers. He pulled the lens away, and his eye shrank back to normal. “Good, good. So glad you’re here.” He waved her over. There was the smell of burning hair in the room, as if the old man had been leaning over his soldering work while careless of his long gray locks.
“I just came to transmit something to Solo,” she said. “And to let you know I’ll be away for a few days.”
“Oh?” Walker frowned. He slotted a few small tools into his leather apron and pressed his soldering iron into a wet sponge. The hiss reminded Juliette of a ill-tempered cat who used to live in the pump room, fussing at her from the darkness. “That Lukas fellow pulling you away?” Walker asked.
Juliette was reminded that Walker was no friend to open spaces, but he was a friend to porters. And they were friendly with his coin.
“That’s part of it,” she admitted. She pulled out a stool and sank against it, studied her hands, which were scraped and stained with grease. “The other part is that this digging business is going to take a while, and you know how I get when I sit still. I’ve got another project I’ve been thinking on. It’s going to be even less popular than this one here.”
Walker studied her for a moment, glanced up at the ceiling, and then his eyes widened. Somehow, he knew precisely what she was planning. “You’re like a bowl of Courtnee’s chili,” he whispered. “Making trouble at both ends.”
Juliette laughed, but also felt a twinge of disappointment that she was so transparent. So predictable.
“I haven’t told Lukas yet,” she warned him. “Or Peter.”
Walker scrunched up his face at the second name.
“Billings,” she said. “The new sheriff.”
“That’s right.” He unplugged his soldering iron and dabbed it against the sponge again. “I forget that ain’t your job no more.”
It hardly ever was, she wanted to say.
“I just want to tell Solo that we’re nearly underway with the digging. I need to make sure the floods are under control over there.” She gestured to his radio, which could do far more than broadcast up and down a single silo. Like the radio in the room beneath IT’s servers, this unit he had built was capable of broadcasting to other silos.
“Sure thing. Shame you aren’t leaving in a day or two. I’m almost done with the portable.” He showed her a plastic box a little larger than the old radios she and the deputies used to wear on their hips. It still had wires hanging loose and a large external battery attached. “Once I get done with it, you’ll be able to switch channels with a dial. It piggybacks the repeaters up and down both silos.”
She picked the unit up gingerly, no clue what he was talking about. Walker pointed to a dial with thirty-two numbered positions around it. This she understood.
“Just got to get the old rechargeables to play nice in there. Working on the voltage regulation next.”
“You are amazing,” Juliette whispered.
Walker beamed. “Amazing are the people who made this the first time. I can’t get over what they were able to do hundreds of years ago. People weren’t as dumb back then as you’d like to believe.”
Juliette wanted to tell him about the books she’d seen, how the people back then seemed as if they were from the future, not the past.
Walker wiped his hands on an old rag. “I warned Bobby and the others, and I think you should know too. The radios won’t work so well the deeper they dig, not until they get to the other side.”
Juliette nodded. “So I heard. Courtnee said they’ll use runners just like in the mines. I put her in charge of the dig. She’s thought of just about everything.”
Walker frowned. “I heard she wanted to rig this side to blow as well, in case they hit a pocket of bad air.”
“That was Shirly’s idea. She’s just trying to come up with reasons not to dig. But you know Courtnee, once she sets her mind to something, it gets done.”
Walker scratched his beard. “As long as she don’t forget to feed me, we’ll be fine.”
Juliette laughed. “I’m sure she won’t.”
“Well, I wish you luck on your rounds.”
“Thanks,” she said. She pointed to the large radio set on his workbench. “Can you patch me through to Solo?”
“Sure, sure. Seventeen. Forgot you didn’t come down here to chat with me. Let’s call your friend.” He shook his head. “Have to tell you, from talking to him, he’s one odd fellow.”
Juliette smiled and studied her old friend. She waited to see if he was joking – decided he was being perfectly serious – and laughed.
“What?” Walker asked. He powered the radio on and handed her the receiver. “What did I say?”
••••
Solo’s update was a mixed bag. Mechanical was dry, which was good, but it hadn’t taken as long as she’d thought for the flood to pump out. It might be weeks or months to get over there and see what they could salvage, and the rust would set in immediately. Juliette pushed these distant problems out of her mind and concentrated on the things she could lay a wrench on.
Everything she needed for her trip up fit in a small shoulder bag: her good silver coveralls, which she’d barely worn; socks and underwear, both still wet from washing them in the sink; her work canteen, dented and grease-stained; and a ratchet and driver set. In her pockets she carried her multi-tool and twenty chits, even though hardly anyone took payment from her since she turned mayor. The only thing she felt she was missing was a decent radio, but Walker had scrapped two of the functioning units to try and build a new one, and it wasn’t ready yet.
With her meager belongings and a feeling like she was abandoning her friends, she left Mechanical behind. The distant clatter from the digging followed her through the hallways and out into the stairwell. Passing through security was like crossing some mental threshold. It reminded her of leaving that airlock all those weeks ago. Like a stopper valve, some things seemed to allow passage in only one direction. She feared how long it might be before she returned. The thought made it difficult to breathe.
She slowly gained height and began passing others on the stairwell, and Juliette could feel them watching her. The glares of people she had once known reminded her of the wind that had buffeted her on the hillside. Their distrustful glances came in gusts – just as quickly, they looked away.
Before long, she saw what Lukas had spoken of. Whatever goodwill her return had wrought – whatever wonder people held for her as someone who had refused to clean and managed to survive the great outside – was crumbling as sure as the concrete being hammered below. Where her return from the outside had brought hope, her plans to tunnel beyond the silo had engendered something else. She could see it in the averted gaze of a shopkeep, in the protective arm a mother wrapped around her child, in the whispers that came and just as suddenly went. Juliette was causing the opposite of hope. She was spreading fear.
A handful of people did acknowledge her with a nod and a “Mayor” as she passed them on the stairwell. A young porter she knew stopped and shook her hand, seemed genuinely thrilled to see her. But when she paused at the lower farms on one-twenty-six for food, and when she sought a bathroom three levels further up, she felt as welcomed as a greaser in the Up Top. And yet she was still among her own. She was their mayor, however unloved.
These interactions gave her second thoughts about seeing Hank, the deputy of the Down Deep. Hank had fought in the uprising and had seen good men and women on both sides give up their lives. As Juliette entered the deputy station on one-twenty, she wondered if stopping was a mistake, if she should just press on. But that was her young self afraid of seeing her father, her young self who buried her head in projects in order to avoid the world. She could no longer be that person. She had a responsibility to the silo and its people. Seeing Hank was the right thing to do. She scratched a scar on the back of her hand and bravely strode into his deputy station. She reminded herself that she was the mayor, not a prisoner being sent to clean.
Hank glanced up from his desk as she entered. The deputy’s eyes widened as he recognized her – they had not spoken nor seen each other since she got back. He rose from his chair and took two steps toward her, then stopped, and Juliette saw the same mix of nerves and excitement that she felt and realized she shouldn’t have been afraid of coming, that she shouldn’t have avoided him until now. Hank reached out his hand timidly, as if worried she might refuse to shake it. He seemed ready to pull it back if it offended. Whatever heartache she had brought him, he still seemed pained at having followed orders and sent her to clean.
Juliette took the deputy’s hand and pulled him into an embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice giving out on him.
“Stop that,” Juliette said. She let go of the lawman and took a step back, studied his shoulder. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. How’s your arm?”
He shrugged his shoulder in a circle. “Still attached,” he said. “And if you ever dare apologize to me, I’ll have you arrested.”
“Truce, then,” she offered.
Hank smiled. “Truce,” he said. “But I do want to say—”
“You were doing your job. And I was doing the best I could. Now leave it.”
He nodded and studied his boots.
“How are things around here? Lukas said there’s been grumbling about my work below.”
“There’s been some acting up. Nothing too serious. I think most people are busy enough patching things up. But yeah, I’ve heard some talk. You know how many requests we get for transfer out of here and up to the Mids or the Top. Well, I’ve been getting ten times the normal. Folks don’t want to be near what you’ve got going on, I’m afraid.”
Juliette chewed her lip.
“Part of the problem is lack of direction,” Hank said. “Don’t want to shoulder you with this, but me and the boys down here don’t have a clear idea which way is up right now. We aren’t getting dispatches from Security like we used to. And your office …”
“Has been quiet,” Juliette offered.
Hank scratched the back of his head. “That’s right. Not that you’ve been exactly quiet yourself. We can sometimes hear the racket you’re making out on the landing.”
“That’s why I’m visiting,” she told him. “I want you to know that your concerns are my concerns. I’m heading up to my office for a week or two. I’ll stop by the other deputy stations as well. Things are going to improve around here in a lot of ways.”
Hank frowned. “You know I trust you and all, but when you tell people around here that things are going to improve, all they hear is that things are going to change. And for those who are breathing and count that as a blessing, they take that to mean one thing and one thing only.”
Juliette thought of all she had planned, in the Up Top as well as the Down Deep. “As long as good men like you trust me, we’ll be fine,” she said. “Now, I’ve got a favor to ask.”
“You need a place to stay the night,” Hank guessed. He waved at the jail cell. “I saved your room for you. I can turn down the cot—”
Juliette laughed. She was happy that they could already joke about what had moments ago been a discomfort. “No,” she said. “Thanks, though. I’m supposed to be up at the mids farms by lights out. I have to plant the first crop in a new patch of soil being turned over.” She waved her hand in the air. “It’s one of those things.”
Hank smiled and nodded.
“What I wanted to ask is that you keep an eye on the stairwell for me. Lukas mentioned there were grumbles up above. I’m going up to soothe them, but I want you to be on the alert if things go sour. We’re short-staffed below, and people are on edge.”
“You expecting trouble?” Hank asked.
Juliette considered the question. “I am,” she said. “If you need to take a shadow or two, I’ll budget it.”
He frowned. “I normally like having chits thrown my way,” he said. “So why does this make me feel uncomfortable?”
“Same reason I’m happy to pay,” Juliette said. “We both know you’re getting the busted end of the deal.”