The people are safe in the caring hands of the Church

The Manuals of the Bunker, Vol. 2, Verse 6

I stared at the book Amy held. It wasn't much bigger than her hands, its thin cover wrinkled.

"Tell me what it says." She pushed it towards me.

Carefully, I took it, doing my best not to touch the brown stains, wondering if they were the dead woman's blood.

The paper was yellowish, and the staining had seeped into it.

Neat handwriting ran along the first page. It looked different from how I had learned to write at school. The letters weren't strung together but stood alone, almost like the Engineers' script.

"What's it say?" Impatience laced Amy's question.

"Power ratings, generators 1, 2, 3, 4" I spelled the first words. "And beneath this, there are only numbers. 23.10.2121 345 234 124 322. And more." They filled the whole page.

"What's it mean?" she asked.

"I don't know."

Amy sat at one of the tables, patting the chair next to her. "Come and sit. Then let's see if there's anything else in this book, something that's interesting."

I shook my head and took the chair, feeling the fatigue in my legs. "This must be Engineer stuff."

And what right did I have to read the numbers of the Engineers?

"Is it all just numbers?" She frowned. "Why would a dying woman hold on to a book full of stupid numbers?"

She had a point there. Maybe, numbers meant something more to Engineers than to normal humans. Still, I couldn't quite believe that and leafed through the pages. The first few contained more numbers. Then, they were empty.

"Just numbers," I said as the fatigue crept up into my chest. It had been a short night.

Amy took the book from my hands and turned over more pages until she got to the last one. "And what's this?" She held it up to me.

There were more stains on that last page than on the other ones, and the writing was less clean as if written in a hurry.

I read aloud.

Dear Shawn & Freya

As agreed, we have tried to explain to Bishop Gregorius that things are falling apart. At first, he was all friendly & understanding as always. I explained about the failing machinery, told him the bunker was built to last a century & we are far beyond that. He didn't believe us. He said it was not safe outside, that we have to stay put & we should fix the machines. When I said we have run out of spares, he didn't believe me either. Thinks we are questioning his power, trying to take power. When Jeremy told him he wanted to talk to all the people in the bunker, putting this to a vote, Gregorius got angry & called the guards.

They killed Jeremy. I barely escaped but was shot in the arm. Hurts like hell. Locked the place up now. I don't know where you are. I expected you both to be here. But you have a key, so you will be able to get back in.

I have taken the last doses of Proctamelin, all three of them. I know this is a lot, but I could not stand the pain & they help. Now I feel dizzy & tired like hell. When you are back, we will talk.

Just in case I don't make it: Beware of Gregorius. He's dangerous. Avoid him. Talk to the people directly.

Anne

I looked up at Amy. She stared back at me.

Back in the upper cavern, under the apple tree, she had told me the Church had killed the Engineers. I hadn't believed her then.

Looking back at the handwriting, I tried to gauge its truth. A dying woman had written it. Why would she have lied? But it felt so bizarre.

"You said the Church has snuffed the Engineers." I almost had to force myself to say the words. "And the craner doesn't believe in the Manuals either. But the Manuals... they are what holds everything together. This world would be long gone without their guidance. The bishop is right about that."

She reached out for my wrist and squeezed it gently, the act surprising me. "I understand," she said. "The manuals, they're... part of ye. Their words are written into yer heart, but... Just take yer time, and keep yer eyes and yer heart open."

"Take my time?" I pulled my arm back and stood, looking around the room, feeling trapped. "Time is what I don't have. The trial will be tomorrow."

Amy got up, too. "Ye're right." She took the book from my hands. "We're running out of time. But believe me, if there's anything that can save yer father and yer friend, we'll find it here."

Yes, she was right. We were in the Engineers' realm even though the Manuals forbade it. But maybe, we'd find something, anything, that would help. And that was reason enough to look around.

I nodded at her. "You're right, Amy."

She grinned, displaying the gap in her teeth.

I pointed at the book, realizing what I found so bizarre about the message. "You know what's strange?"

"Ye're strange?" She pointed at me, still grinning.

"Not as strange as you. But... this message... She signed it with Anne, and she wrote to a Shawn and a Freya. And there was a Jeremy. These are such common names. As if... As if they were nothing but regular people."

"Well, they probably were." She put the book back into her pack and pointed at the door to the corridor. "And now, let's have a real good look at the rest of this place."

"Right." I left the kitchen with Amy at my heels.

As we opened the next door down the corridor, the room beyond was dark, but then the light came on. Its sudden appearance made me take a step back.

"Don't be a chicken," she said. "S'automatic."

"Automatic?"

"Yes, automatic. It means it's like magic, but it's made by the Engineers. Just like when the light turns bright at daytime and dark at night time in those caverns of yers."

The lamps in here shone their light on a loo. I had never seen one like this, but its purpose was obvious—a chair-sized bowl with a circular rim at its top and a hole going into a bent pipe at its bottom.

I wondered if the crap would just sit there and if you had to scoop it out.

"Here's proof for ye." Amy pointed at the crapstool.

"Proof for what?"

"Proof that the engineers were nothing but regular people. With common names and common... stuff coming out of them."

She probably had a point there, but I didn't answer. Discussing Engineers still felt wrong. I examined the washbasin instead. It looked almost normal.

Still thirsty, I tried the tap, but all I got was a faint hiss of air, just like in the kitchen.

"No water," I said.

"Yeah. Just like dead Anne wrote. The machines are failing. The bunker was built to last a hundred years, and she said they were far beyond that. And that was back when she hadn't shriveled up yet. So we're even beyonder now."

I nodded. It all made sense—the lamps going dark, the pump not pumping. No water.

Back in the corridor, Amy headed for the stairs at one end. Their steps were metal grids suspended in a metal frame, and they went up circling a central, unlit shaft.

I placed myself in the central space of the stairwell and looked up. All I saw was darkness—the light here wasn't automatic.

"Let's check the other side." I wasn't eager to enter yet another place without light.

There was one last door we hadn't tried yet, at the other end of the corridor. As we walked towards it, we passed the one through which we had entered in the first place. It still stood open, and I gazed into the black tunnel beyond. A rattling noise told me that our pursuer was still trying to break in.

No, Wolfe didn't give up easily. Stubborn—he was a bit like Amy, in this way.