The heavy cardstock fell through the rotunda like a hail of iron tiles.
Five hundred grams per square meter of rigid bond paper sliced through the damp air, tumbling straight toward Clara’s acoustic levitation field.
Beneath the four-foot water ceiling, Clara’s face was pale. Her throat convulsed as she forced the 4,200 Hz carrier wave through her microphone, but the downward momentum of the heavy cardboard was crushing the sound nodes.
“The standing wave is buckling!” Lin Mei screamed, her spectacles pressed against the marble tiles. “Three seconds until the first card breaks through the pressure barrier!”
“Mac, crack that grate!” Julian Vance shouted, crawling across the floor with the Master Heat-Lamination Seal in his hand.
“Out of the way!” Marcus “Mac” Cole roared.
Mac threw his heavy frame across the three-foot brass ventilation grating. He jammed the beveled edge of his iron dockworker pry-bar between the brass louvers and the concrete foundation.
“Put your back into it, Mac!” Elena Rostova shouted, bracing her boots against his ribs to give him leverage.
