A few hours of rest fueled me, and thoughts of my mother and her big reveal prompted me to search for more answers. I opened my room door and stepped into the hall, where shadows and darkened corners demanded my attention. The dense atmosphere had a way of looming over me and making my skin crawl. It wasn't difficult to imagine clingy spiderwebs in the crooks and crannies even though insects never made it into the facility.

An odd stillness steadied the air despite the hundreds of people who resided on the floor and stirred the space. I would never get used to their eyes on me. The scrutiny and curiosity radiating from their piercing stares made me more than self-aware; it gave me shudders that nearly paralyzed me and prevented me from taking another step. But I moved forward, unaware of my destination.

"Looking for Emily?" A voice at my back urged me to pivot. I nodded to the young female in my sights and she pointed directly above. "On Fifteen, in Control."

I attempted a smile then turned, heading toward the area with the staircase.

I learned fast that up here a nod and smile didn't trigger one in return, so I mimicked the others with an awkward stare as I moved past them.

Once at the staircase, I stopped by the lift next to it. Assuming the lift wouldn't work, given the information we'd been given, I pressed the call button several times as a test. When nothing happened, I entered the stairway and marched up the few flights before exiting on Fifteen.

The level resembled Thirteen in its quiet, darkened eeriness. Another shudder tore through me as I moved past a couple dozen folks and continued to the control room. The fingerprint lock beside the door lit up with a dull red. I closed my eyes to wash the crimson color from my vision along with the disturbing thoughts of chaos and panic that came with it. I tapped the door with my knuckles.

When it opened, an unexpected man appeared between me and Em, who stood at the control panel staring at the extra-large smooth screen that held the commands of the entire upper hemi. She looked over her shoulder to me. "Let him enter." She nodded.

I had never seen the inside of a control room as no one but the workers and select persons of authority were allowed to enter. Stepping foot inside was just as surreal as waking up to the red lights and sirens had been.

The large, flat control panel glowed bright with lights and three-dimensional graphs and images. Some symbols and characters were foreign to me. Others I could make out, especially the keyboard with alphabetical and numerical symbols.

"I bet you're wondering how we were able to communicate with Dr. Smith in order to vet your friends?" She waved me over.

I stepped to the panel, which resembled a large round dinner table that reached my waist in height "This is insane. How do you even-"

"Lots of practice and hard liquor." She chuckled and after a few seconds of odd silence she added, "That was a joke."

I nodded. I appreciated her attempt at humor. We needed something to break the ice. And if I remembered what I had learned correctly, a joke or a compliment was a perfect way to open a conversation and break the tension.

"There was a certain window of time when Dr. Cutler would reconnect communication from the lower to the upper hemi. It takes precise calculation and planning to go undetected. Although Dr. Cutler's been confined, with Dr. Smith's help we've managed to connect more frequently now since Randolph and the entire lower hemi's in panic mode because of the recent 'breach.' We're aware that Randolph suspects we might be communicating somehow and may have his eyes and ears on high alert, so we're trying to be extra careful. Dr. Smith will attempt to connect with us again in..." she glanced at the panel's clock, "...in another hour and thirty-two minutes. You can stay for the conversation if you like." She turned to me, waiting for my answer.

I cocked my head, allowing my skepticism to show. "You're really trying to prove to me that you can be trusted."

"Damn right, I am." She folded her arms under her bosom, reminding me of Tamara. "I need your trust in order for us to work together. And I need us to work together in order to get this place back to the way it needs to be."

"And how should this place be?" I folded my arms too and narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing. Was killing Randolph part of her vision of a perfect place?

"Connor, you, your father, and I were happy once. Every person you passed in the halls today were once happy too. That all changed when Randolph decided to trap us, forever changing our lives or blatantly taking them. We need to open up access between the hemis and get him out of command."

"You plan to do that by killing him?"

"If it comes down to it, yes."

I would have never thought my mother would consider killing. For her to admit that meant she truly believed life in the facility would be better without Randolph in it. "I can't do that." I looked to the panel, Vince on my mind. "I won't allow that." Silence stilled the room. I looked to the couple other people in the room and made eye contact with each of them when I repeated, "I will not allow that. You hear me?" Whatever plan they had in mind, taking Vince's father from him wasn't going to be a part of it. I'd known the pain that lingered from losing a father, and I'd do anything to keep Vince from that agony.

Em nodded as if she understood, but I was certain she'd try to convince me to change my mind or proceed without my help. "I know you're fond of your friend Mr. Moore-"

"It's not just about my feelings for Vince. It's what's best for this facility. No more murder." I dropped my arms and took a deep breath to rid myself of the aggression that formed in the pit of my chest. "I'm sorry for what Dr. Randolph has done, but there must be a specific reason he's made those decisions. They must've been difficult to make, but there had to be a good reason." Maybe Randolph had felt threatened? Maybe Randolph hadn't wanted to do what he'd done but had had no other choice. However, what excuse ever warranted inflicting suffering?

"I know you may not believe I'm your mother, and I know that being your mother isn't enough to justify taking a life, but you're going to look back on this day ten, twenty years from now, and it's gonna hit you like a brick of shit to the face when you realize there was absolutely no reason to justify what he did to us or your father. There's no justification for allowing him to live either. His death could be the best thing that happens to this place."

Her words sank in and a heaviness dropped to the pit of my stomach when I realized she had said the same thing Dr. Smith had said when he mentioned segregation. "If, back then, you asked the people who believed in that kind of conduct, why, they'd give you all sorts of answers. None were justified, especially in hindsight."

I refused to look in her eyes. Instead, I stared at the panel and ran my palm along the smooth edge. "I have a lot to learn. That's what Dr. Smith told me, and I realize that." I forced myself to show respect to the woman who had birthed me by meeting her gaze as early memories broke through the cloudy red screen that had fogged up my mind. "I know you're my mother. Even when I try to doubt it, something inside tells me I'm wrong. I don't know. Maybe it's instinct, and I trust my instinct. The last memory I have of you was helping you brush your hair and doing such a poor job at it that I got the bristles tangled in your hair and the brush dangled from the side of your head like some sort of sad ornament." I chuckled, remembering her heartwarming giggles and bright smile when she had looked in the mirror at the final result.

Her mouth twitched at the corners as I assumed she attempted to grin. "Hmm." She snickered.

"You were so different then, and so familiar." I went on, "Now you're like a stranger and the things you say about Dr. Randolph makes him seem more like a stranger too."

"Well, back then I was something of a twenty-second century Marilyn Monroe if I say so myself." She snorted then let out a long-winded sigh, becoming serious. "You're exceptionally smart, Connor, being a beta and all, but Dr. Smith is right: you have a lot to learn. You can probably calculate the date and time of the damned asteroid impact down to the second and do it all in your head in an instant, but you have difficultly deciphering what's right in front of you. Irony at its finest."

I sighed. She was right. "There's a lot that's just been revealed. A lot to sort through."

"And that is part of being a leader. You'll have to make tough and often snap decisions with little or no information at times, and while hoping for the best, you prepare for the possible consequences."

A knock at the door interrupted us.

"Connor?" Vince called through the door. "You in there?"

"Let him in." Emily nodded to the man nearest the door. When he opened it, in staggered Vince with his crutch under one arm and Tamara on his other, assisting him.

"Are you okay?" I went to his side when I saw the grimace of pain twisted on his face. "What happened?"

"The pain in his leg is bothering him." Tamara shrugged. "He doesn't want to take any pain meds though."

"I don't need medicine. The pain's not that bad. I can deal," he said through clenched teeth. I glanced to his wrist where the missing med-patch had been, instantly understanding his refusal.

Em pulled a chair away from the control panel. "Here. Sit. Stan, get Jordan up here to take a look at his wound."

"Will do." Stan left the room, closing the door behind him.

Tamara's large eyes fixed on the control panel as she made her way closer to it. "What's all this?"

"I was just explaining to Connor how we secretly communicate with the lower hemi."

"Let me ask you this." Tamara garnered all the attention in the room as she set her sights on Em. "How is it you're up here chatting away when a bunch of your men were just killed? It's, well, it's odd."

"These people elected me to keep them alive." Em didn't skip a beat. "I'm sorry for our losses, but the last I checked, my magic wand was misplaced somewhere back in La La Land and I've lost my ability to pause the clock and use that time to mourn."

There was a tension-filled silence in the room as people glanced from one to the other, as if anticipating a venomous assault to ensue.

Tamara shrugged. "Touché."

Em stepped forward. "I don't blame you for lacking the skills to lead, because you were never given the opportunity. Sure, they remind you that you will one day lead and be looked up to, but most of your young adult life they train you to fight. Has it ever occurred to you what you were preparing to fight for?"

"We were training to become peacekeepers of the facility, the future higher officers." Tamara scoffed. "At least that's what they told us. The more I think about it, the more devious it all sounds."

Em swiveled through files on the panel with a flick of a finger. "Devious only because they were really building an army for a future war that only Randolph and the people up here knew was inevitable. Using the youth of the facility as their soldiers."

She clicked on a file, and audio played through the concealed speakers in the room:

"-and you were delayed." Em's voice was recognizable. "He didn't announce his orders over communication. It's not your fault."

"I just wished I could have warned you." There was no mistaking the deep, husky accent of Dr. Smith even when his voice was hushed and hasty. "No one but the cadets and higher officers on the floor with him knew he ordered the deaths of everyone without a gas mask on Ten. The information got to me too late, but Jim from Control will keep me informed of any more private communication between them and Randolph."

"Not your fault, Samuel. And we don't have much time, so can you please repeat your message for the record?"

"Sure, sure." He cleared his throat. "This is Dr. Samuel Smith. It's confirmed that the three missing cadets--Tamara Arnold, Vincent Moore, and Connor Nichols, your son--are the cadets in your custody. Randolph is well aware that they are up there but has no idea they are still alive. He has not yet made the public aware that they slipped through, that you or the hundreds of people are alive and sound, or that there is no real contamination threat-which I doubt he ever will reveal-and he has not yet decided to take action to retrieve or rescue them. I'll keep you posted. Please continue to keep them safe."

"Thank you, Samuel." Em's shaken voice ended the audio recording.

Vince grimaced and shifted in his seat. "So, we're waiting for my dad to get a rescue plan together, and you want us to use that opportunity to do what?"

Em shook her head, ignoring the panel to give her full attention to Vince. "There's not going to be a rescue because he's doesn't have a rescue plan and isn't arranging to craft one. He's sealed those doors for good. And since all the lower hemi's most important machinery is on the subordinate floors, he'll probably just keep moving people further down the levels until there's no one left alive but himself."

"He wouldn't do that." Vince's growl nearly shook the room. "I'm his only son." What sounded like pain dulled his voice and hit me in the chest when he emphasized, "His only successor. He would never leave me up here to rot."

She sighed. "I understand you're angry, Mr. Moore. I get that. Believe me, I do. I felt the same the first couple years up here, away from my family, my son." She cut her eyes to me. "I could do nothing as my husband, the love of my life, was sent to his death, leaving my only son in Randolph's care. I know anger. Believe me, I do. However, it's time to set aside your anger and look at the facts. Just look around you. This is now your reality. Everything that led up to this moment was a calculated decision your father made."

The rapid ding of a bell emanated from the control panel and we all grew tense and quiet, except for Em who pressed buttons on the screen and placed a flesh-toned bud within her earlobe.

"Emily." She placed both hands on the edge of the counter and waited.

"I'm early, I know." Dr. Smith's voice shook with fear and urgency through the speakers. "I have to be quick. Randolph's ordered to exterminate everyone in the upper hemi!"

"What?" Tamara rushed to the panel and gripped the edge.

"He's going full force with all the cadets and higher officers," Dr. Smith continued. "He's even ordered more explosives to be assembled, stat."

Em tapped her fingers on the sides of her thighs as she paced back and forth. "He's putting everyone at risk. The upper and lower hemi and everyone who occupies them."

"I have to go," he whispered. "Just know he's already acquired the parts to the couple detonators we had left over from the first strike. I'll be back online with any major updates as soon as I can." The line went dead.

Em paused, worry written in her eyes as they settled on the blank wall across from her. Was her mind sorting and shuffling ideas and scenarios?

Out of nowhere, an intense boom shook the floor at our feet, knocking us off balance. We staggered to keep from falling as the quaking settled into a mild rumble of reverberations.

Em dug her fingers into the panel's edge as she spoke to no one in particular. "He didn't," she said in stark disbelief. "He couldn't. Not now. He's striking now? This throws everything off...we'll need a new plan."

Vince's jaw hung low and he stared blankly at me. "He's gonna kill us. My dad's gonna kill us."

"Vince?" I went to him and pressed my palms against the sides of his head to direct his attention to my face, which hovered inches from his. "Hey, get it together. Focus, okay? We'll figure this out."

His eyes fixated on mine and his shock turned to visible pain in his twisted expression. "What are we gonna do?"

I pressed my forehead to his as my mind raced a thousand miles a minute. I turned to Em and Tamara who looked to me with the same inquisitive stare. My heart skipped a beat and nearly stopped when I realized they were waiting for my answer.

Get it together, asshole. Show your shit.

I gulped, giving my heart a chance to beat at its normal pace. "We have to stop him and the only way to do that is to fight back."

~~~

What are your thoughts and theories on how they can get through this? Once again, Thanks for your votes, comments, and support!