羊毛战记 Part 5 The Stranded 57

　　57

　　• Silo 18 •

　　… was the year the Civil War consumed the thirty-four states. More American lives were lost in thisconflict than in all the subsequent ones combined, for any death was a death among kin¹. For fouryears, the land was ravaged², smoke clearing over battlefields of ruin to reveal brother heaped uponbrother. More than half a million lives were lost. Some estimates range to almost twice that. Disease,hunger, and heartbreak ruled the life of man …The pages of the book flashed crimson³ just as Lukas was getting to the descriptions of thebattlefields. He stopped reading and glanced up at the overhead lights. Their steady white had beenreplaced with a throbbing⁴ red, which meant someone was in the server room above him. He retrievedthe loose silver thread curled up on the knee of his overalls⁵ and laid it carefully into the spine⁶ of thebook. Closing the old tome, he returned it to its tin case with care, then slid it into the gap on thebookshelf, completing the vast wall of silvery spines⁷. Padding silently across the room, he bent⁸ downin front of the computer and shook the mouse to wake the screen.

　　A window popped up with live views of the servers, only distorted from such wide angles. It wasanother secret in a room overflowing⁹ with them, this ability to see distant places. Lukas searchedthrough the cameras, wondering if it was Sammi or another tech coming to make a repair. Hisgrumbling stomach, meanwhile, hoped it was someone bringing him lunch.

　　In camera four, he finally spotted¹⁰ his visitor: a short figure in gray overalls sporting a mustacheand glasses. He was slightly stooped, a tray in his hands dancing with silverware, a sloshing glass ofwater, and a covered plate, all of it partly supported by his protruding¹¹ belly¹². Bernard glanced up atthe camera as he walked by, his eyes piercing Lukas from a level away, a tight smile curling belowhis mustache.

　　Lukas left the computer and hurried down the hallway to get the hatch for him, his bare feetslapping softly on the cool steel grating. He scrambled¹³ up the ladder with practiced ease and slid theworn red locking handle to the side. Just as he lifted the grate, Bernard’s shadow threw the ladderwayinto darkness. The tray came to a clattering¹⁴ rest as Lukas shifted the section of flooring out of theway.

　　“I’m spoiling you today,” Bernard said. He sniffed¹⁵ and uncovered the plate. A fog of trappedsteam billowed out of the metal hood¹⁶, two stacks of pork ribs¹⁸ revealing themselves underneath¹⁹.

　　“Wow.” Lukas felt his stomach rumble²⁰ at the sight of the meat. He lifted himself out of the hatchand sat on the floor, his feet dangling²¹ down by the ladder. He pulled the tray into his lap and pickedup the silverware. “I thought we had the silo on strict rations²², at least until the resistance is over.”

　　He cut a piece of tender meat free and popped it in his mouth. “Not that I’m complaining, mindyou.” He chewed and savored²³ the rush of proteins, reminded himself to be thankful for the animal’ssacrifice.

　　“The rations haven’t been lifted,” Bernard said. “We had a pocket of resistance flare²⁴ up in thebazaar, and this poor pig found himself in the crossfire²⁵. I wasn’t about to let him go to waste. Most ofthe meat, of course, went to the wives and husbands of those we’ve lost.”

　　“Mmm?” Lukas swallowed. “How many?”

　　“Five, plus the three from that first attack.”

　　Lukas shook his head.

　　“It’s not bad, considering.” Bernard brushed his mustache with his hand and watched Lukas eat.

　　Lukas gestured with his fork while he chewed, offering him some, but Bernard waved him away. Theolder man leaned back on the empty server that housed the uplink and the locking handle for theladderway. Lukas tried not to react.

　　“So how long will I need to stay in here?” He tried to sound calm, like any answer would do. “It’sbeen three weeks, right?” He cut off another bite, ignoring the vegetables. “You think a few moredays?”

　　Bernard rubbed his cheeks and ran his fingers up through his thinning hair. “I hope so, but I don’tknow. I’ve left it up to Sims, who’s convinced the threat isn’t over. Mechanical have themselvesbarricaded pretty good down there. They’ve threatened to cut the power, but I don’t think they will. Ithink they finally understand that they don’t control the juice up here on our levels. They probablytried to cut it before they stormed in and then were surprised to see us all lit up.”

　　“You don’t think they’ll cut the power to the farms, do you?” He was thinking of the rations, hisfear of the silo being starved.

　　Bernard frowned. “Eventually. Maybe. If they get desperate enough. But that’ll just erodewhatever support those greasers have up here. Don’t worry, they’ll get hungry enough and give in.

　　It’s all going by the book.”

　　Lukas nodded and took a sip²⁶ of water. The pork was the best he thought he’d ever had.

　　“Speaking of the book,” Bernard asked, “are you catching²⁷ up with your studies?”

　　“Yeah,” Lukas lied. He nodded. In truth, he had hardly touched the book of Order. The moreinteresting details were found elsewhere.

　　“Good. When this annoyance²⁸ is over, we’ll schedule you some extra shifts in the server room.

　　You can spend that time shadowing. Once we reschedule the election—and I don’t think anyone elsewill run, especially not after all this—I’ll be up top a lot more. IT will be yours to run.”

　　Lukas set down the glass and picked up the cloth napkin. He wiped his mouth and thought aboutthis. “Well, I hope you’re not talking weeks from now. I feel like I’ve got years of—”

　　A buzzing noise cut him off. Lukas froze, the napkin falling out of his hand and flopping²⁹ to thetray.

　　Bernard startled away from the server as if it had physically³⁰ shocked him or its black metallic³¹ skinhad grown suddenly warm.

　　“Goddamn it!” he said, banging the server with his fist. He fumbled³² inside his overalls for hismaster key.

　　Lukas forced himself to take a bite of food, to act normal. Bernard had grown more and moreagitated by the constant ringing of the server. It made him irrational³³. It was like living with his fatheragain, back before the tub gin finally bored him a hole beneath the potatoes.

　　“I fucking swear,” Bernard grumbled³⁴, working the series of locks in sequence. He glanced over atLukas, who slowly chewed a piece of meat, unable suddenly even to taste it.

　　“I’ve got a project for you,” he said, wiggling the last lock free, which Lukas knew could stick abit. “I want you to add a panel on the back here, just a simple LED array. Figure out some code so wecan see who’s calling us. I wanna know if it’s important or if we can safely ignore it.”

　　He yanked the back panel off the server and set it noisily against the front of server forty, behindhim. Lukas took another sip of water while Bernard peered into the machine’s dark and cavernousinterior, studying the blinking lights above the little communication jacks³⁵. The black guts³⁶ of theserver tower and its frantic³⁷ buzzing drowned out Bernard’s whispered curses.

　　He pulled his head out, which was bright red with anger, and turned to Lukas, who set his cup onhis tray. “In fact, what I want right here is two lights.” Bernard pointed³⁸ to the side of the tower. “Ared light if it’s silo seventeen calling. Green if it’s anyone else. You got that?”

　　Lukas nodded. He looked down at his tray and started cutting a potato in half, thinking suddenlyof his father again. Bernard turned and grabbed the server’s rear panel.

　　“I can pop that back on.” Lukas mumbled³⁹ this around a hot mouthful of potato; he breathed outsteam to keep his tongue from burning, swallowed, and chased it with water.

　　Bernard left the panel where it was. He turned and glared angrily into the pit of the machine,which continued to buzz and buzz, the overhead lights winking⁴⁰ in alarm. “Good idea,” he said.

　　“Maybe you can knock this project out first thing.”

　　Finally, the server quit its frantic calls, and the room fell silent save for the clinking of Lukas’sfork on his plate. This was like the moments of rye-stench quiet from his youth. Soon—just like hisfather passing out on the kitchen floor or in the bathroom—Bernard would leave.

　　As if on cue, his caster and boss stood, the head of IT again throwing Lukas into darkness as heblocked the overhead lights.

　　“Enjoy your dinner,” he said. “I’ll have Peter come by later for the dishes.”

　　Lukas jabbed a row of beans with his fork. “Seriously? I thought this was lunch.” He popped theminto his mouth.

　　“It’s after eight,” Bernard said. He adjusted his overalls. “Oh, and I spoke⁴¹ with your mothertoday.”

　　Lukas set his fork down. “Yeah?”

　　“I reminded her that you were doing important work for the silo, but she really wants to see you.

　　I’ve talked with Sims about allowing her in here—”

　　“Into the server room?”

　　“Just inside. So she can see that you’re okay. I’d set it up elsewhere, but Sims thinks it’s a badidea. He’s not so sure how strong the allegiance is among the techs. He’s still trying to ferret out anysource of leaks—”

　　Lukas scoffed⁴². “Sims is paranoid. None of our techs are gonna side with those greasers. They’renot going to betray the silo, much less you.” He picked up a bone and gnawed⁴³ at the remaining meat.

　　“Still, he has me convinced to keep you as safe as possible. I’ll let you know if I can setsomething up so you can see her.” Bernard leaned forward and squeezed Lukas’s shoulder. “Thanksfor being patient. I’m glad to have someone under me who understands how important this job is.”

　　“Oh, I understand completely,” Lukas said. “Anything for the silo.”

　　“Good.” Another squeeze of his hand, and Bernard stood. “Keep reading the Order. Especially thesections on insurrections and uprisings. I want you to learn from this one just in case, God forbid, itever happens on your watch.”

　　“I will,” Lukas said. He set down the clean bone and wiped his fingers on the napkin. Bernardturned to go.

　　“Oh—” Bernard stopped and turned back to him. “I know you don’t need me to remind you, butunder no circumstances are you to answer this server.” He jabbed his finger at the front of themachine. “I haven’t cleared you with the other IT heads yet, so your position could be in … well,grave danger if you were to speak with any of them before the induction⁴⁴.”

　　“Are you kidding?” Lukas shook his head. “Like I want to talk with anyone who makes younervous. No frickin’ thanks.”

　　Bernard smiled and wiped at his forehead. “You’re a good man, Lukas. I’m glad I’ve got you.”

　　“And I’m glad to serve,” Lukas said. He reached for another rib¹⁷ and smiled up at his caster whileBernard beamed down at him. Finally, the older man turned to go, his boots ringing across the steelgrates and fading toward that massive door that held Lukas prisoner among the machines and all theirsecrets.

　　Lukas ate and listened as Bernard’s new code was keyed into the lock, a cadence⁴⁵ of familiar butunknown beeps—a code Lukas no longer possessed⁴⁶.

　　For your own good, Bernard had told him. He chewed a piece of fat as the heavy door clangedshut, the red lights below his feet and down the ladderway blinking off.

　　Lukas dropped the bone onto his plate. He pushed the potatoes aside, fighting the urge to gag atthe sight of them, thinking of where his father’s bones lay. Setting the tray on the grating, he pulledhis feet out of the ladderway and moved to the back of the open and quiet server.

　　The headphones slid easily out of their pouch⁴⁷. He pulled them down over his ears, his palmsbrushing the three-week growth of beard on his face. Grabbing the cord, he slotted it into the jacklabeled “17.”

　　There was a series of beeps as the call was placed. He imagined the buzzing on the other side, theflashing lights.

　　Lukas waited, unable to breathe.

　　“Hello?”

　　The voice sang in his earphones. Lukas smiled.

　　“Hey,” he said.

　　He sat down, leaned back against server forty, and got more comfortable.

　　“How’s everything going over there?”

 

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