As the distant rumble and vibration died away, Karla Raimundo froze in the sudden blackness. A moment later, Maximilian’s flashlight turned on, and she reached down and pulled hers from her utility belt and turned it on as well.
“The emergency power will kick in any moment,” said Maximilian, who had rejoined her after taking Barrow to his quarters.
They waited.
“The transition to backup should have been seamless,” said Raimundo. “It should have happened instantly.”
“What are you saying?” Maximilian asked.
“This is no accident,” said Raimundo.
“You think the Neanders cut the power?”
Raimundo looked at him. Could he really be that thick? Now she could hear sounds, faint noise, echoing down from afar in the hallways. The locks were electronic; with the power failure, they had all unlocked. This was never supposed to happen.
“We’ve got to get ourselves to a secure location,” she said to Maximilian.
“Are they out? The bloody Neanders are out?”
“Obviously.”
“What happened to the two independent layers of backup power? It’s supposed to be redundant!”
She didn’t bother answering. Her mind was preoccupied with their present situation. The living quarters where Barrow was holed up—that was the securest place within reach. That’s where they had to go. Not only that, but there were two guards with Barrow, armed with AR-15s. She bitterly regretted deploying the rest of the guards up to the front of the mine or guarding the sequencing labs. She instinctively reached for her comms, but then realized that, without power, the underground comm system with its network of repeaters wouldn’t work.
“We need to get to Barrow’s quarters,” she said, moving into a swift walk. “We’ll be safe there.”
She could hear the growing commotion of the Neanders echoing through the corridors. They were bent on bloody work, no doubt. These were the worst, the error-ridden early failures of the de-extinction process. She had told Karman time and time again to put them into the CO room, which had been built especially for the purpose of putting the misbegotten to sleep. But Karman was sentimental and Barrow was weak, and she had been overruled. She had been dealing with this for ten years. Almost all of Erebus’s problems had been caused by Barrow’s indecision and Karman’s unaccountable affection for the brutes. And this was the result. Worst of all—absolutely the most disastrous decision Karman and Barrow had made—was to educate the Neanders. They were bred for only one purpose: their genes. But no, Karman had insisted on raising them like human children, putting them in classrooms, showing them movies, teaching them how to read and play music and do math and paint and sing and play games—and especially giving them access to computers and technology. None of this would have happened if the Neanders had been kept in happy ignorance and illiteracy. She had argued time and again that Neanders with knowledge would be dangerous, that they’d figure things out and rebel. She’d been overruled every time. And this was the result.
Reaching the elevator, she realized that, of course, it wouldn’t work without power, and so she diverted to the nearby stairwell, heading down to the living quarters. The high-security locked doors of the stairwell were also unlocked—everything was unlocked.
Maximilian followed in silence. The growing commotion of the Neanders now seemed to be spreading. The sounds were coming from everywhere and nowhere at once as the brutes, elated no doubt with their freedom, fanned out. What were they doing? She didn’t need to guess: they were looking for humans.
The stairwell came out to the lower level where the high-security door protecting this level was also unlocked. The weakness of the system, so dependent on power for security, surprised and enraged her. She had no idea that such a thing could happen, that a mere power failure disabled all the locks. More incompetence from some low-level engineer.
This lower level was off-limits to the Neanders, and indeed, it had been kept secret from them. It was the Sapiens level, the executive offices and living quarters, gym, and dining room. The elegance of the hallways on the Sapiens level—the beautiful wallpaper, the antique sconces, and hall tables with fresh flowers, all of which Barrow insisted upon—did not reassure her in the slightest. On the contrary, when the Neanders discovered this, it would not only confirm that this was where the Sapiens were, but it would also enrage them. This would be the level they would search first, and thoroughly.
She wondered briefly how in the world the Neanders knew to disable the backup generators. How did they even know where they were? They were clever, those brutes.
A final turn brought them to the steel door to Barrow’s quarters. It was closed. Raimundo knocked and called out—she didn’t want to be shot full of holes by some trigger-happy guard. “Mr. Barrow? It’s Karla Raimundo. Open up.”
She heard the rattle of something, and the door was opened by one of the guards. They came in, and the guard shut the door and replaced a jerry-rigged bar across it.
“Where’s Mr. Barrow?” she asked the guard.
“He’s in the back library, ma’am,” he said.
She and Maximilian hustled back through the darkened residence. It was a masterpiece of sleek minimalism, titanium and polished wood surfaces everywhere, almost no furniture, gleaming stone floors. They passed through a foyer, a hall, and through a titanium archway into the library. Barrow, sitting by a gas fire burning through spheres of glass, jumped up and came over. The other guard was there, standing at attention.
“Thank God you’ve come,” he said. “The Neanders blew up—”
“We know,” said Raimundo. “The Neanders are out; the cell doors are open. They’re overrunning the place.”
“What do we do?” Barrow shrilled.
“We stay here,” she said calmly. “Leaving is not an option. The Neanders are spreading out, and we don’t know where they are.”
“Will we be safe?”
Raimundo felt as if she were reassuring a child. “There’s only one door, it’s steel, and it’s barricaded. We’ve got two armed men. The Neanders have got nothing but torches, knives, and spears. So yes, I think we’ll be safe.”
“Maximilian?” Barrow asked, turning to the security director. “Is this what you think? That we should stay here?”
“I agree with Karla. We need to hunker down. I don’t see another option.”
“What’s happening outside? At the lodge?”
Maximilian shook his head. “I don’t know. All comms are down. When I left, the press was still there, and McFaul was trying to get them out.”
“The goddamned idiot,” said Barrow, “inviting the press in like that.” He passed a trembling hand over his head of white hair. “What do you think the Neanders are going to do?”
Raimundo said, “Let’s just focus on what we need to do. We need to reinforce that door.” She didn’t add her next thought: that the Neanders would certainly be looking for them. They would be a target, if not the prime target.
“Very good, then,” said Barrow. “Go reinforce that door. Maximilian, you go with her, make sure it’s rock solid.”
Raimundo turned and left, with Maximilian following. She went back through the residence to the entry door, which she carefully examined with her flashlight. The door was steel, and it opened inward. The door was set into a steel doorframe. While it was unlocked, the guards had barred it with a piece of angle-iron wedged into both sides of the doorframe.
“This isn’t strong enough,” she said. “We need a second bar across this, one that’s more solid.”
She examined the doorframe more closely. They would need to cut slots or holes in it to add another bar. “Are there tools or a workshop in the residence?” she asked the guard.
“Yes, ma’am, there’s a workshop.”
“There wouldn’t be an acetylene torch, by any chance?”
“No. There’s an arc welder.”
That would be useless without power. “How about a power drill that runs off a battery?”
“I believe there’s one there, ma’am.”
“Bring it up with some metal drill bits. And get me a stronger bar to put across here—like a metal pipe or something.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The guard disappeared. Raimundo pressed her ear to the door. Were the Neanders in the lower level yet? All was silent. Maybe they wouldn’t find it. But no, she told herself, that was wishful thinking. They would explore every nook and cranny of the tunnels, they would find the staircase to the lower level, and they would search it. And then they would find their way out of the mines as the previous escapees had. They would get out into the world—and God knew what havoc they’d wreak.
What a catastrophe.
A few minutes later, the guard returned with a toolbox, chisels, a drill, and a stout section of pipe.
Raimundo inspected it. It was a good thick galvanized steel pipe, right for her purposes. She measured it out and drew two holes on the frame into which the pipe could be inserted. The pipe would have to be cut down to size, but there was a metal saw in the toolbox.
“Cut the end off this pipe, here,” she said to Maximilian, indicating where it needed to be cut.
She took up a power drill, pressed the trigger, and heard a most satisfying whine. Thank God the battery was charged up—at least somebody had been competent. She released the trigger, inserted a metal drill bit, and began drilling into the steel frame, one hole after another, connecting them, until she’d drilled out a round opening to insert the pipe. Meanwhile, Maximilian sawed off the end of the pipe.
When the whine of the drill stopped, she heard muffled noise beyond the door—yelps and cries, whistles and yodeling.
“Listen to those buggers,” said Maximilian, sweating. “Looks like they found the lower level.”
“Of course they did.” She began drilling a hole on the other side of the frame. They were making a lot of noise that was sure to attract attention. They’d better finish up fast. She heard loud voices in the hall outside the door.
Thump! Someone pounded on the door. Thump! Thump!
“There’s someone in there!” she heard yelled in that breathy Neander voice she hated so much. “I heard them. They’re in there!”
Fists began to pummel the door, and the handle turned frantically.
The door moved, but the original bar held.
More pummeling and yelling.
“We’re gonna kill you!”
“Done,” she said, pulling the drill out. “Shove that pipe in there.”
Maximilian, holding the steel pipe, jammed it in one hole, slid it in, then went to insert it in the other end. It didn’t go—there was still a small corner of steel blocking it.
“Take it out!” Raimundo said. “I’ll drill that burr off.”
A coordinated push on the door caused it to rattle in its frame.
She smoothed off the last corner of steel with the drill, and Maximilian rammed the pipe in. Now it fit snugly. The other end went into the opposite hole.
She stepped back and shined a light over it. Solid. The other bar was not as sturdy, but the two of them together would hold. For sure they’d hold.
Now she could hear another muffled whump! on the door, as the Neanders beyond evidently had gotten together and were using their combined shoulder power to try to force it open. She was satisfied to see the newly reinforced door hardly move. It would take a tank to break it down.
The handle turned again, rattled, and another coordinated whump! took place. The commotion on the other side increased, whoops and yells and excited chatter as the crowd seemed to grow amid much loud discussion.
“They’re in there. They must be. Hey, you! We’re coming to get you!”
More thumps as they tried to shoulder themselves in. The pipe rattled but held firm.
“The door’s blocked!”
“Hit it! Hit it!”
Bang! The door was struck with something heavy, and the bar jumped in its seating.
Bang! Bang!
Muffled conversation was followed by a period of quiet.
Maybe they’d given up. But no, that was not like them at all.
BOOM! sounded from the door, both bars jumping now. BOOM!
What the hell were they hitting it with?
BOOM!
It was something big and heavy, and she could see the steel door was slightly deformed in the middle by the blow. Cracks were forming around where the doorframe was cemented into the wall.
BOOM!
They were using some kind of battering ram, something heavy from the playground, maybe. The pipe bar bent slightly from the blow. Raimundo felt her blood run cold.
“You’re gonna die!” came an enraged, breathy voice. “Die! Die!”
BOOM!
It was just so crazy. It was like a horror film. For the first time, she felt afraid for her life.
“I’m getting the other guard,” Maximilian said.
BOOM! The entire door shook as if hit by a car. It deformed again, the plaster on the walls surrounding the doorframe cracking and splitting and dropping in pieces.
Maximilian returned with the other guard. She could hear Barrow’s voice from the back of the residence, raised in fear and complaint. Barrow, weak, mewling Barrow. It was his fault, his and Karman’s. Too late to dwell on that now.
“Position yourselves on either side, left and right,” Maximilian said. “Ninety-degree angle of intersecting fire, weapons free.”
“Yes, sir.”
BOOM! A crease appeared in the steel, and more plaster fell. The whole residence shook from the blow.
BOOM! The crease deepened, and a small seam opened in the steel as plaster flew off the sides, the doorframe itself moving.
BOOM! The seam grew larger, and the frame buckled inward, plaster showering to the ground.
At that point, Raimundo realized the door was not going to hold.