The lobby of the Civic Citadel felt like a mausoleum carved from black ice.
Massive octagonal pillars of dark emerald granite rose sixty feet to vaulted ceilings. Between the pillars, eight Otis high-speed express elevators stood in a curved bronze alcove.
Above the central archway, the scrambled LED displays flickered in violent bursts of red, amber, and violet.
[CAR 01: FL -14] [CAR 02: FL 77] [CAR 03: FL ERR] [CAR 04: FL 00]
“Look at the call station,” Lin Mei said, pointing her flashlight at a polished brass plaque bolted beside Car #04.
The plaque was fresh, stamped in linotype ink that still smelled of damp resin:
[CITADEL VERTICAL TRANSIT ORDINANCE: RULE 97]
[1. DO NOT PRESS ANY FLOOR BUTTON SHARING A PRIME FACTOR WITH THE CURRENT BLACKOUT HOUR.]
