The hydraulic doors of Bus #04 hissed shut with a wet rubber thunk, cutting off the howl of the acid rain.
Outside, the yellow dispute strobe on the substation gate terminal flashed through fogged safety glass. Julian had punched the yellow DISPUTE CONTINUATION -- CO-SIGNER ON PREMISES override key on Mobile Register Annex #04-B before stepping onto the lift. That bought three minutes of statutory grace before the high-voltage fence could initiate an outward purge.
Inside the bus, the air was thick with the smell of damp wool, diesel fumes, and engine heat.
Julian leaned against the farebox stanchion, his knees trembling. Ten straight hours of the blackout shift had worn his body down. His right ear was a solid ring at forty-one ninety-six hertz, pulsing with his racing heartbeat.
His hands shook so hard he could barely keep his fingers curled. Both palms were raw and red, lined with blisters where the three-hundred-and-eighty-degree heat of the lamination press had scorched through his gloves.
Keep breathing, Julian told himself, closing his eyes against the glare of the dome lights. *The register is on rubber casters. The seal is unbroken.
Don’t let your hands drop.*
“Julian,” a quiet voice called from the aisle.
