Clark Kent's Arc

Chapter 24 of 4

The fan roared all night. By morning its roar had thinned to a cough. Orion knelt by the battery clamp and shook his head. "Two days," he said. "Maybe one." Clark watched the crowd breathe the cold stream and knew the battery was now the only wall between them and the dead air. He needed a power source that would not quit. The sealed floor could never open again. He had to find current that ran on its own. Orion traced the fan's line back to a dead outlet in the wall. "The station's main line is cut down here," he said. "But some systems still hold charge. We need a live cell. A big one." He looked at Clark. "I can wire it. I can't carry it. That thing could sit behind a flooded panel." Arthur Curry pushed off the wall where he had slouched for hours. His scaled suit still dripped from the lower decks he had waded through to reach the chapel. Clark barely knew him, but Arthur had hauled two fallen men to the fan without a word. "Flooded," Arthur said. "That's mine." He cracked his neck. "Where?" Orion pointed past the gate. "A junction box behind the ring. Half underwater when the coolant burst. The cell inside holds more than this battery ever will." Jake the Snake coiled his rope over his shoulder and stood. "I'll run the line back. You pull the cell, I feed the cable." He jerked his chin at the gate. "Zephyr watches the heat. Nobody opens for a cold face." The small alien pressed close to the gate, his wide eyes fixed on the corridor. "Clear," Zephyr said. "Go now." They went. Clark followed Arthur to the flooded junction. Black water filled the room to the waist. Arthur dropped in without flinching and vanished under the surface. Clark held the rope while Jake fed it foot by foot. Bubbles rose. Then Arthur broke up, a dark cell the size of a toolbox in his arms. "Terminals held," he said, breathing hard. "It's dry inside." They hauled it back. Orion clamped the leads and held his breath. The fan caught, steadied, and roared full. The cold stream pushed harder than before. The woman by the wall lifted her face into it. A child laughed. Orion read the gauge and grinned. "This cell feeds it for weeks. Months, maybe." He tapped the housing. "Steady power. The air holds now." Clark leaned against the altar. The sanctuary breathed on its own at last. No door to the dead. No battery to watch die. He had built a wall that would not fail. Then Zephyr turned from the gate, his eyes narrow. "The corridor," he said. "Heat moving. Many bodies. People are coming down from above." Clark looked at the sealed room, now safe, now drawing a crowd he had never counted. A fortress that kept them alive would draw everyone who wanted to live.