38

　　Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;

　　And about his shelves, a beggarly account of empty boxes.

　　Lukas arrived at thirty-four breathless and clutching the small box, more exhausted from the laws hehad broken than this habitual climb to work. He could still taste the metallic tang of adrenaline in hismouth from hiding behind the servers and rummaging through Juliette’s things. He patted his chest,feeling the items there, and also his racing heart.

　　Once he was better composed, he reached for the doors to IT and nearly cracked a knuckle as theyflew outward toward him. Sammi, a tech he knew, burst out in a hurry and stormed past. Lukas calledhis name, but the older tech was already gone, storming up the stairs and out of sight.

　　There was more commotion in the entrance hall: voices yelling over one another. Lukas enteredwarily, wondering what the fuss was about. He held open the door with his elbow and slid into theroom, the box tight against his chest.

　　Most of the yelling, it seemed, was coming from Bernard. The head of IT stood outside thesecurity gates and was barking at one tech after the other. Nearby, Sims, the head of IT security,similarly laid into three men in gray overalls. Lukas remained frozen by the door, intimidated by theangry duo.

　　When Bernard spotted him there, he snapped his mouth shut and waded through the tremblingtechs to greet him. Lukas opened his mouth to say something, but his boss was fixated less on himand more on what was in his hands.

　　“This is it?” Bernard asked, snatching the box from him.

　　“It—?”

　　“Everything that greaser owned fits in this little damn box?” Bernard tugged the flaps open. “Isthis everything?”

　　“Uh … that’s what I was given,” Lukas stammered. “Marsh said—”

　　“Yeah, the deputy wired about his cramps. I swear, the Pact should stipulate an age limit for theirkind. Sims!” Bernard turned to his security chief. “Conference room. Now.”

　　Lukas pointed toward the security gate and the server room beyond. “I suppose I should get to—”

　　“Come with me,” Bernard said, wrapping his arm around Lukas’s back and squeezing hisshoulder. “I want you in on this. There seem to be fewer and fewer ratshit techs I can trust aroundhere.”

　　“Unless y-you want me on the servers. We had that thing with tower thirteen—”

　　“That can wait. This is more important.” Bernard ushered him toward the conference room, thehulking mass of Sims preceding them.

　　The security guard grabbed the door and held it open, frowning at Lukas as he went by. Lukasshivered as he crossed the threshold. He could feel the sweat running down his chest, could feelguilty heat in his armpits and around his neck. He had a sudden image of being thrown against thetable, pinned down, contraband yanked from his pockets and waved in his face—“Sit,” Bernard said. He put the box down on the table, and he and Sims began emptying itscontents while Lukas lowered himself into a chair.

　　“Vacation chits,” Sims said, pulling out the stack of paper coupons. Lukas watched the way theman’s arms rippled with muscle with even the slightest movement. Sims had been a tech once, untilhis body kept growing and made him too obviously suited for other, less cerebral, endeavors. Helifted the chits to his nose, took a sniff, and recoiled. “Smells like sweaty greaser,” he said.

　　“Counterfeit?” Bernard asked.

　　Sims shook his head. Bernard was inspecting the small wooden box. He shook it and rapped itwith his knuckles, listening to the rattle of chits inside. He searched the exterior for a hinge or clasp.

　　Lukas almost blurted out that the top slid, that it was so finely crafted you could barely see thejoints and that it took a bit of effort. Bernard muttered something and set the box aside.

　　“What exactly are we looking for?” Lukas asked. He leaned forward and grabbed the box,pretended to be inspecting it for the first time.

　　“Anything. A fucking clue,” Bernard barked. He glared at Lukas. “How did this greaser make itover the hill? Was it something she did? One of my techs? What?”

　　Lukas still couldn’t figure out the anger. So what if she hadn’t cleaned—it would’ve been adouble anyway. Was Bernard furious because he didn’t know why she’d survived so long? This madesense to Lukas. Whenever he fixed something by accident, it drove him nearly as nuts as havingsomething break. He’d seen Bernard angry before, but this was something different. The man waslivid. He was manic. It was just how Lukas would feel if he’d had such an unprecedented piece ofsuccess with no cause to pin it on.

　　Sims, meanwhile, found the notebook and began flipping through it. “Hey, boss—”

　　Bernard snatched it from him and tore through the pages, reading. “Someone’ll have to go throughall this,” he said. He pushed his glasses up his nose. “There might be some sign of collusion in here—”

　　“Hey, look,” Lukas said, holding out the box. “It opens.” He showed them the sliding lid.

　　“Lemme see that.” Bernard dropped the notebook to the table and snatched the wooden box away.

　　He wrinkled his nose. “Just chits,” he said disgustedly.

　　He dumped them on the table and was about to toss the box aside, but Sims grabbed it from him.

　　“That’s an antique,” the large man said. “You think it’s a clue, or can I … ?”

　　“Yes, keep it, by all means.” Bernard waved his arms out toward the window with its view of theentrance hall. “Because nothing of greater fucking importance is going on around here, is it, shit-for-brains?”

　　Sims shrugged noncommittally and slid the wooden box into his pocket. Lukas desperatelywanted to be somewhere else, anywhere in the silo but there.

　　“Maybe she just got lucky,” Sims offered.

　　Bernard began dumping the rest of the box onto the table, shaking it to loosen the manual thatLukas knew was tightly wedged in the bottom. He paused in his efforts and squinted at Sims over therims of his glasses.

　　“Lucky,” Bernard repeated.

　　Sims tilted his head.

　　“Get the fuck out of here,” Bernard told him.

　　Sims nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.”

　　“No, I mean get out!” Bernard pointed at the door. “Getthefuckout!”

　　The head of security smiled like this was funny but lumbered for the door. He slid out of the roomand gently clicked the door shut behind him.

　　“I’m surrounded by morons,” Bernard said once they were alone.

　　Lukas tried to imagine this was not meant as an insult directed at him.

　　“Present company excluded,” Bernard added, as if reading his mind.

　　“Thanks.”

　　“Hey, you at least can fix a goddamn server. What the hell do I pay these other ratshit techs todo?”

　　He pressed his glasses up the bridge of his nose again, and Lukas tried to remember if the IT headhad always cursed this much. He didn’t think so. Was it the strain of being interim mayor that wasgetting to him? Something had changed. It felt strange to even consider Bernard his friend anymore.

　　The man was so much more important now, so much busier. Perhaps he was cracking under the stressthat came with the extra responsibility, the pain of being the one to send good people to cleaning—“You know why I’ve never taken a shadow?” Bernard asked. He flipped through the manual, sawthe play on the reverse side, and turned the bound sheets of paper around. He glanced up at Lukas,who lifted his palms and shrugged.

　　“It’s because I shudder to think of anyone else ever running this place.”

　　Lukas assumed he meant IT, not the silo. Bernard hadn’t been mayor very long.

　　Bernard set the play down and gazed out the window, where muffled voices argued once more.

　　“But I’ll have to, one of these days. I’m at that age where your friends, the people you grew upwith, are dropping like flies, but you’re still young enough to pretend it won’t happen to you.”

　　His eyes fell to Lukas. The young tech felt uncomfortable being alone with Bernard. He’d neverfelt that before.

　　“Silos have burned to the ground before because of one man’s hubris,” Bernard told him. “All ittakes is improper planning, thinking you’ll be around forever, but because one man disappears”—hesnapped his fingers—“and leaves a sucking void behind, that can be enough to bring it all down.”

　　Lukas was dying to ask his boss what the hell he was talking about.

　　“Today is that day, I think.” Bernard walked around the long conference table, leaving behind himthe scattered remnants of Juliette’s life. Lukas’s gaze drifted over the items. The guilt of goingthrough them himself vanished when he saw how they’d been treated by Bernard. He wished insteadthat he’d stashed away more of them.

　　“What I need is someone who already has access to the servers,” Bernard said. Lukas turned to theside and realized the short, full-bellied head of IT was standing right beside him. He moved his handup to his chest pocket, making sure it didn’t bulge open where Bernard could see.

　　“Sammi is a good tech. I trust him, but he’s nearly as old as I am.”

　　“You aren’t that old,” Lukas said, trying to be polite, to gather his wits. He wasn’t sure what wasgoing on.

　　“There aren’t many I consider friends,” Bernard said.

　　“I appreciate that …”

　　“You’re probably the closest thing—”

　　“I feel the same—”

　　“I knew your father. He was a good man.”

　　Lukas swallowed and nodded. He looked up at Bernard and realized the man was holding out hishand. Had been for a while. He extended his own to accept, still not sure what was being offered.

　　“I need a shadow, Lukas.” Bernard’s hand felt small in Lukas’s own. He watched as his arm waspumped up and down. “I want you to be that man.”