holding fifteen people each. But so far, the three boys from Babbitt Hall were the only evacuees in the bay.
"Who else is assigned this bay?" Ben asked, looking around. "Any of you guys know?"
George Clock nodded. "I think we share these 'pods with the Ainge Auditors."
"But they're not here," Tommy Rosales said, looking around.
Outside in the hallways, the ship's alarms were caterwauling dramatically; red and yellow lights blinked rapidly.
"I can see that," Ben said.
"Then that means we get a lifepod each," Tommy Rosales said.
"Goody," said Clock.
Red lights over the hull exits indicated that none of the 'pods had the go-ahead signal from the command deck to be released into space, nor had Ben heard the telltale sounds of airlock decompressions from neighboring lifepod bays. That meant that the Cloudman was still assessing the situation, preparatory to actually giving the "abandon ship" call.
Several minutes went by, but no command came. The alarms had been cut off, but the emergency lights continued to twirl their crimson capes in the hallways.
And in that period of time, none of the Ainge Auditors transited to the 'pod bays.
"Why aren't the Auditors here?" Ben asked.
"Who cares?" Tommy Rosales said.
"I do," Ben said.
"No you don't."
"Okay," Ben admitted. "But I'd like to know why they're not here."
"Forget those guys. Let's wait for Jim," Rosales said.
"Well, I think Cleddman's not going to call an evacuation and I think the Auditors know that, which means they know why."
"So?" Rosales asked.
"Let's go look," Ben said.
"No," Rosales said. "I'm staying here."
"I'll go," Clock offered. "I think you're right. Something's going on and the Auditors know what it is."
"You're both idiots," Rosales retorted.
"Where's your sense of adventure?" Ben said to him.
"It's right here, where the lifepods are," Rosales told them.
"All right," Ben said. "When Jim shows up, keep him here. Keep him out of trouble."
"I should keep you guys out of trouble," Rosales mumbled.
Ben and George Clock headed for the nearest pedestrian corridor. A transit portal would be quicker, but they were set by default to shunt people to lifepod bays in times of emergency. They jogged for an eighth of a mile to the Auditor quarters, and while some people were still heading to their assigned bays, no one appeared to stop them. No one seemed to care.
The Ainge Auditors lived in a large compound that separated the Enamorati's living spaces-and the Engine-from the rest of the university. The entrance to the Ainge Sanctuary was through a highly impractical set of oaken doors. These opened up to a small anteroom, which, in turn, opened onto a two-hundred-seat auditorium that faced a podium. This podium was used by High Auditor Nethercott for regular services, but was normally not in use at any other time.
Behind the podium was a specially treated glass wall. On the other side of the wall were what the Enamorati called their "empath stations." These flanked a long, thick rod-called the "communion rod"-which resembled a massive drive shaft, the kind that might propel a waterborne ship. Its true purpose was unknown, but students and parishioners alike would come to the Sanctuary and watch the empaths, the Avatkas, sit at their stations, plugged into the communion rod.
Ben and George Clock entered the auditorium and found the place deserted-which they expected. However, on the other side of the glass wall there were also no Avatkas sitting at their empath stations and the communion rod itself wasn't glowing.
That was unusual.
"Wow," Clock said. "Where is everybody?"
"Maybe something did happen to the Engine," Ben said in a low voice.
Suddenly from just behind them a shadowy figure appeared and spoke to them in a stern voice. "Gentlemen," the elder said. "Can I help you?"
"Oh, shit," Clock said, whirling around.
Behind them stood High Auditor Joseph Nethercott. He was a tall, pale man in a crisp gray long coat and prim priest's collar.
"We
"Who else is assigned this bay?" Ben asked, looking around. "Any of you guys know?"
George Clock nodded. "I think we share these 'pods with the Ainge Auditors."
"But they're not here," Tommy Rosales said, looking around.
Outside in the hallways, the ship's alarms were caterwauling dramatically; red and yellow lights blinked rapidly.
"I can see that," Ben said.
"Then that means we get a lifepod each," Tommy Rosales said.
"Goody," said Clock.
Red lights over the hull exits indicated that none of the 'pods had the go-ahead signal from the command deck to be released into space, nor had Ben heard the telltale sounds of airlock decompressions from neighboring lifepod bays. That meant that the Cloudman was still assessing the situation, preparatory to actually giving the "abandon ship" call.
Several minutes went by, but no command came. The alarms had been cut off, but the emergency lights continued to twirl their crimson capes in the hallways.
And in that period of time, none of the Ainge Auditors transited to the 'pod bays.
"Why aren't the Auditors here?" Ben asked.
"Who cares?" Tommy Rosales said.
"I do," Ben said.
"No you don't."
"Okay," Ben admitted. "But I'd like to know why they're not here."
"Forget those guys. Let's wait for Jim," Rosales said.
"Well, I think Cleddman's not going to call an evacuation and I think the Auditors know that, which means they know why."
"So?" Rosales asked.
"Let's go look," Ben said.
"No," Rosales said. "I'm staying here."
"I'll go," Clock offered. "I think you're right. Something's going on and the Auditors know what it is."
"You're both idiots," Rosales retorted.
"Where's your sense of adventure?" Ben said to him.
"It's right here, where the lifepods are," Rosales told them.
"All right," Ben said. "When Jim shows up, keep him here. Keep him out of trouble."
"I should keep you guys out of trouble," Rosales mumbled.
Ben and George Clock headed for the nearest pedestrian corridor. A transit portal would be quicker, but they were set by default to shunt people to lifepod bays in times of emergency. They jogged for an eighth of a mile to the Auditor quarters, and while some people were still heading to their assigned bays, no one appeared to stop them. No one seemed to care.
The Ainge Auditors lived in a large compound that separated the Enamorati's living spaces-and the Engine-from the rest of the university. The entrance to the Ainge Sanctuary was through a highly impractical set of oaken doors. These opened up to a small anteroom, which, in turn, opened onto a two-hundred-seat auditorium that faced a podium. This podium was used by High Auditor Nethercott for regular services, but was normally not in use at any other time.
Behind the podium was a specially treated glass wall. On the other side of the wall were what the Enamorati called their "empath stations." These flanked a long, thick rod-called the "communion rod"-which resembled a massive drive shaft, the kind that might propel a waterborne ship. Its true purpose was unknown, but students and parishioners alike would come to the Sanctuary and watch the empaths, the Avatkas, sit at their stations, plugged into the communion rod.
Ben and George Clock entered the auditorium and found the place deserted-which they expected. However, on the other side of the glass wall there were also no Avatkas sitting at their empath stations and the communion rod itself wasn't glowing.
That was unusual.
"Wow," Clock said. "Where is everybody?"
"Maybe something did happen to the Engine," Ben said in a low voice.
Suddenly from just behind them a shadowy figure appeared and spoke to them in a stern voice. "Gentlemen," the elder said. "Can I help you?"
"Oh, shit," Clock said, whirling around.
Behind them stood High Auditor Joseph Nethercott. He was a tall, pale man in a crisp gray long coat and prim priest's collar.
"We
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