John Krygelski - The Aegis Solution

There had been no litter, no markings of any type along his route, so he was hopeful that he had this labyrinth to himself.

Elias leaned the rifle against a wall and set down the suitcase, opening it. Beneath the clothing and toiletries, which had been rummaged through by Crabill, was the smartphone, his lifeline to the outside world. He was certain that Crabill thought nothing of the fact that he had brought a phone inside, even though they were useless in Aegis. People were creatures of habit, and Elias assumed that most of the new arrivals would do the same thing.

He left the phone in the suitcase for now, and removed one other item. It appeared to be a charging base for an electric toothbrush; in fact, it was something else entirely. Tucking it into his shirt pocket, Elias looked around and located a wall-mounted steel ladder which extended up to the ceiling. This time he retrieved the master key before climbing and, reaching the top, unlocked the hatch, swinging it up and open. He was at the roof of Aegis, and the wind was still fierce. It snatched the hatch from his grip and slammed it open as far as it would go. Fortunately, the spring hinges were beefy enough to not snap from the impact, and the lid remained open. The wind, traveling almost parallel to the face of the now vertical hatch, whipped over the open access, and the Bernoulli effect pulled at Elias, dragging air out of the junction room beneath him at an almost gale force and causing a low-frequency sound like a person blowing over the top of a pop bottle.

Concerned that someone might hear the sound or notice the sudden change in air pressure, he scrambled through the opening and, using all of his body weight, pushed the hatch closed. The wind was so forceful that it nearly caused him to lose his balance and fall onto one of the thousands of solar panels mounted to the roof.

Keeping his feet well apart to help him maintain an upright posture, Elias, in the dimming light of the evening, searched around the bases of the solar panels until he found a weatherproof electrical outlet. The outlets had been placed regularly around the roof system for the use of tradesmen during the construction of Aegis and also to be used by anyone who might perform repairs. Since no outside contractors would ever be allowed inside or on the roof once Aegis opened, Elias guessed that the assumption made by the designers of the building had been that eventually a qualified tradesman would check in and might need to plug in his tools.

Shaking his head at yet another of the idiocies of Aegis, he pulled the device from his pocket and plugged it in, careful to orient the top of it away from his eyes. Now came the hard part. He had to find a way to secure the relatively light base so that the wind would not blow it over. Setting it down, he searched the adjacent area, quickly finding that the contractor who had installed the solar panels had left several pieces of steel angle behind. It was a gauge heavy enough to serve as a lintel in masonry work; obviously, they had been concerned about the sometimes violent desert wind, when designing the support structures. He hefted two of the six-foot-long pieces and carried them back to the spot where he had left the device.

Shivering from the cold, Elias first placed the plastic base in the small open area next to the outlet. He set one of the two angles next to it so that it rested upon the power cord, further securing it. Then he positioned the second piece of steel on the other side of the base in order to wedge it firmly between the two.

Stepping back, he checked out the installation, satisfied that it was probably the best he could do with the materials at hand. After taking one last, long look around the vast flat roof, Elias lifted the hatch, more carefully this time so that the wind would not rip it from his grip, and climbed down the ladder, struggling to pull the lid closed behind himself. He locked it and continued down, grateful for the warmth.

The air turbulence, caused by the opening of the roof hatch, had stirred up the dust, and Elias coughed several times, his throat and lungs stung by the acrid powder. He sat on the floor next to the suitcase and pulled out the smartphone and, with his thumb, slid out the mini-keyboard. Quickly, he typed his first message to Faulk, which would be compressed and transmitted automatically in about two hours. His descriptions of Madison, Walden, and the members of the group who resided in ZooCity were brief, but he supplied more lengthy details about the blurred intervention. He also reported that there was, as yet, no sign of Rudy Kreitzmann. After informing Faulk that the beacon was in place on the roof, Elias read the message once over for errors, saved it, and closed the phone.

Leaning back against the wall, he removed two PayDays and a can of Ensure from the suitcase and ate his dinner. Although he was certain there was something else he could yet do this evening, Elias did not move, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to relax. Within minutes, he was asleep.

Whoever it was who had followed him during his journey through the raceway maze was a very patient person. At no point did the stranger get close enough to be heard or seen. Now, as the stuttering sounds of Elias’ snores echoed through the concrete passageways, the figure waited. Fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, an hour, and finally two hours passed before the stranger very slowly and carefully moved forward, not making even the slightest sound — until this wraith stood over Elias, taking in all of the details of his face and the visible contents of his suitcase, paying special attention to the automatic rifle leaning against the wall next to his sleeping figure.

Having learned all that could be learned from this visit, the figure receded into the passageway without making a sound. Because the phone was programmed to perform its function silently and without the screen lighting, the watcher had been completely unaware that Elias’ message was sent and a message downloaded during the fleeting observation.

The stealth helicopter, using the laser homing beacon generated by the base Elias had set up on the roof, hovered above Aegis. On command, the sergeant activated the winch and lowered the package toward the clear area adjacent to the roof hatch. He maintained a running stream of instructions to the pilot, who did a masterful job of flying in the buffeting winds and compensating for the wild swinging of the package at the end of the line. Deciding that gently placing it on the roof in these conditions would be impossible, the sergeant stopped the winch from unspooling when the package swung only a few feet above the nearby solar panels, and waited. After feeling that he had a good sense of the timing of the swings, he hit the clutch on the winch, abruptly dropping the load. He grinned to himself at his accuracy as he saw that it landed squarely where he intended, less than three feet from the laser beacon.

Triggering the line release, he spoke into his headset mouthpiece. “It’s down. Let’s go.”

The pilot wasted no time increasing the elevation of the craft, and they canted forward and sped away.

Erin Stephenson glanced at the Caller ID on her phone, and seeing who was calling her direct line, quickly lifted the handset. “Hello, Rusty.”

“Erin, how are you?”

“Busy, overworked, behind schedule, and ready to strangle Len for allowing his wife to have her baby now, instead of on his day off. I’m doing my own shows and his today. What’s up?”

The meteorologist-on-duty chuckled. “That’s the life of a big TV star. Quit complaining.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Anyway, I checked out the anemometers. Even sent a tech out to make sure. They’re fine.”

This was the last answer Erin expected. “Can’t be, Rusty. You’ve seen the surface ob.”