The square opening of Exhaust Shaft Beta breathed a wet, sulfuric draft straight down into Julian Vance’s face.
Twenty feet above the stockroom floor, the three Notary Roof-Bailiffs were shifting their cast-iron weight across the gravel roof. Through the sheared sheet-metal opening, Julian could see the dull yellow glare of their helmet-mounted searchlights cutting through the rising sulfur steam, reflecting off the jagged galvanized edges of the ductwork.
“CLERK DETECTED AT SHAFT PERIMETER,” the lead Roof-Bailiff’s brass horn droned from above. “YOU ARE TRAPPED BENEATH THE DISCHARGE FLUE. TO CONTEST THIS MUNICIPAL PURGE, PROCEED UP THE ANGLE-IRON ACCESS LADDER TO FACE AUDIT TRIBUNAL.”
Beside the walk-in cooler, Dr. Victor Corvo and Elena Rostova were finishing the dressings on Sammy Chen’s hands. The boy sat on a wooden milk crate, his blistered thumbs wrapped in thick white layers of iced zinc-oxide gauze.
His young face was pale and smudged with soot, but his brown eyes were wide and alert as he watched Julian.
“Don’t look at the ladder, Mr. Vance,” Sammy warned in a hoarse whisper. “The water...
it’s still sliding up the rungs.”
Julian glanced toward the dark corner behind the paper-towel pallet.
