Deep within the metallic bowels of the Wu Ang Hok and close to the reactor, that egg of steel where the immaculate halls and carpeting of the main decks gave way to rust red ductwork, shadowy catwalk grating, and oppressive corridors that lost themselves among pipes like endless narrow warrens, a thin hand stirred, wedged itself between the two panels of an automated door that had gone dead. Twisting, flexing, brown, bony fingers dug into the plating, caught purchase, drove the heel of a hand into the crack, forcing the panels further apart. In another instant, a second hand flew in to seize the opposite panel, surged with force to jam the door open enough to admit an arm, two arms, muscles tense, pushing, legs catching into the gap.

“Almost. . . there.” Lazar managed. Fighting, flexing, he pushed out a sharp exhale, grimaced as he forced himself into the crack, back pressed hard against Faith’s. Behind him, the Admiral grunted against her own chunk of obstinate door, arms vibrating with the force of exertion as she pushed. An instant later, as the breech finally gave way, the two halves of door gave way and ground back along a dead track and into the depths of the wall, shifting into place with the resounding echo of metal locking into metal.

Faith’s grateful exhale echoed through the passage “I–”

“That’s far enough.” A voice shot out of the darkness, as rich with shadows and night as anything that might choose to haunt the twisting depths of a place like the engineering section. Faith squinted, tried to catch sight of the source, saw nothing. Somewhere nearby, a steam valve hissed, muffled the ominous clank of steel on steel. “Come out into the light so I can see ya.”

“Chief?” Faith asked, voice level. Lazar followed warily, watching, rising slowly out of a half crouch as the Admiral stepped out into the cramped corridor, eyes lightly casting here and there, half nervous, almost searching. She pulled in a deep breath, choked on the humid, stifling air, squinted. “Chief d’Arc?”

“Admiral?” A woman stepped out of shadow and into red-cast light, lowered the heavy autospanner held tightly in her strong, steady hand. “What in the name of all the gods of Haiti are you doing about down here?”

Faith released a breath she hardly remembered holding and forced a smile. She knew the Chief of Reactor Operations only casually, recognized her thick build, not fat or stocky, but with the physique of a tractor-engine, her arms twice as strong as those of any man in the reactor core and skin as deep into ebony as any color could go. In the dim half-light, her muscles glistened with sweat, damp and sleek as they were toned and strong, ropy and sculpted from years of beating the reactor into shape. Her voice was deliciously Cajun, rich with the tones of some French-Quarter district in the humid south of a world halfway to the core from the loose and frontier boundary of the rim. She cocked her hip as Faith looked on, her gaze flicking almost reflexively to Lazar’s, regarding him with a dose of the same wary, questioning eye.

“Something useful, I hope.” Faith managed a grin. “What happened down here? All systems seem to be shot, the backups are intermittent, on some decks non-existent. From Operations, it looks like the whole network is down.”

“You tellin’ me.” The chief made an irritated gesture with her autospanner. “You the blackpants. Ain’t you supposed to know everything that’s going on outside the ship?” She shook her head, made a loose gesture. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t in here, wasn’t in the reactor, but it was enough of a something to push the positives up on the SDM in the Degen Drive mighty serious.” She looked away, stared vaguely in the direction of a wall studded with grating, pipework. “There was a surge. Lost five of my best men to the cascade.”

Faith grimaced in thought, “Outside? Are you sure?”

“It’s my job to be sure.” Came the chief’s stolid response as her eyes shot back to stare directly into the Admiral’s. “It weren’t nothing that happened in here.”

“Any ideas yet?” Lazar asked.

“Like I said, you the blackpants.” She gave him the sharp corner of a half-grin. “I know the inside, I know what makes it tick, what keeps it from tickin’ and what makes the whole thing go up in smoke.” She gestured at him again. “You’re supposed to be able to say the same about the outside, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Came Faith’s absent response. “But whatever it was, it managed to catch us completely off guard.”

“Shit happens.” d’Arc made a dismissive gesture, “Look, all this chatting in the wings is makin’ me nervous. You wanna help? Follow me.” She gestured, half turned. “I hate being away from the panels for even a minute, and if the core don’t slip back into negative tolerances before the point of no return, we’re gonna be in some real deep shit, real quick, ya hear?”

“How deep?” Lazar asked.

d’Arc turned back and regarded him carefully for a moment. “Big bada boom, son.” She said flatly. “As in everything within five or so miles converts into light energy, a new micro singularity swallows everything that was here a moment before, all that we was goes bye bye.”

“Deep.” Faith added, then glanced back at Lazar. “Come on.”