The Clang and Vibration - Chapter 2

The maintenance work below the most southern tower of the Tenuo city is pitiful. Every corner that could possibly be cut has been and more. To begin with, little to no planning has been put into the work with the eventual end of the task appearing to be more than half a decade away. There is no confirmation that the labour being carried out is adequate and complications are simply 'worked around' by Officers without any knowledge of solutions, including myself. The workers are even worse. It seems that the Penal Authority has sent me the lowest dregs of humanity it has to offer and they are forced to use hammer and nail to carry out the work. All my requisition requests for electronic or even steam powered tools have been ignored.

These complaints are just the worst of dozens and I will soon find it impossible to manage such a disgraceful affair without major changes.

This is the letter she would have written if she wasn't confident that the response would be her immediate dismissal. The best possible outcome she could hope for would be to be completely ignored and then, why bother? In truth, she wasn't in their good books; none of the officers in the subterranean level were but especially here. To earn this position required a severely unfavourable attitude in academy graduates or indiscretions by experienced officers: she was a bit of both. Once there, it was hard for anyone in this line of work to maintain the 'moral composure' driven into them at the academy. The noise, the darkness, the smell and the work tugged at the fringes of an officer's sanity. Repetition made them cold and frustration made them cruel. It was a place where everyone suffered and Ouida held the title of 'sanest' simply by virtue of her position. In her office by the elevator she sat, watching the platform steadily shift up, down and along the tower's base day-by-day as the futile repairs were made to its metallic skin. Behind the industrial glass of the tower, she could almost imagine that the desperate existence of the people on the platform was just another gritty film. That alone was enough to keep her safely wrapped in denial and relatively stable.

At first, she couldn't see the reality of the job. It seemed like a promotion from desk duty to command of a considerable number of officers. Even upon seeing the platform, she was enthused. It was a marvel of engineering. Deep under the cities floor, in complete darkness, a repair platform crouched upon the side of one of the largest towers in the city. Magnetic tracks all along its edge kept it attached to the tower wall and allowed it to move around the surface to where repairs were needed. So large was the platform that it could carry officer and worker housing, an office and an elevator as it moved. The shaft-less elevator could carry two dozen people up to the main level from any point on the building wall using similar magnetic tracks. Ouida was aware that inventions like these probably existed everywhere but in her eyes they were new and fantastic. And, as she saw it, all hers. Seeing what kind of people she commanded, the reality of worker 'housing' and the extent of the job at hand soon changed her mind.

The threat of an even greater punishment hung over her head, but as the months passed, dismissal became a more attractive choice. It was likely what they wanted her to do but she didn't care. Until she worked up the gall to throw this job in her superior's face, Ouida would become cynical and withdrawn, just to pass the days.

A loud ping played over the radio. It woke Ouida from her daydreaming but did little to draw her attention. It took a few moments to realise that the sound hadn't come from the outside, but from the central computer and had reverberated through every radio channel.  She had no time to react before the computer spluttered violently and promptly died, followed by every light and electronic in the room. Her hand flew to her gun but she could do nothing with it in this pitch blackness.

As quickly as the main lights went, the emergency lights turned on, drawing from the platform's generators. Yet all other electronics sat in darkness, except the elevator controls which flashed into standby. Beyond the window, shouts began to rise. She could hear footfalls by the door and suddenly an officer came into view by the window. By now there were sounds of gunfire adding to the cries. The man outside gestured manically to be let in and, a second from doing so, she hesitated. The light above the door indicated that the lock mechanism was still powered, if the door could hold then maybe she'd be-.

Without looking up at the officer through the glass, Ouida lowered the shutter across the window. Other figures quickly appeared from the side but were immediately lost from view as the shutter closed completely. She drew her weapon and huddled into the back corner of the room, watching the door apprehensively. Sounds of a struggle outside were replaced by the din of a dozen hands and hammers banging on the door and shutter.

Those hammers will get them through; it's only a matter of time. And they have plenty of it while stuck on this platform. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. What if they weren't? Rushing to the console, she slammed the call button for the elevator. There was no way to tell if it had worked with so much of the console in darkness. So she crouched back in her corner, and waited.