What could possibly go wrong?
“They put the air filtration system at the bottom of the central dome,” Abby told the working group two hours later. “Five levels down the main stairwell, and just off the main doors in Maintenance. Just like us, but with two more levels to go down. And climb.”
One of the techs raised her hand. Jilly Hawthorne, Tobias reminded himself. Civilian with Tesla-Grummond. “The power’s out completely, then? Major,” she added after a second, with the wince of a woman who was reminding herself about military courtesy.
“We’re assuming so, based on the last telemetry,” Abby said. “We’re also assuming no light, no atmosphere, and no survivors. Which means no looters, either. Or, you know… anything else.” The grimness of that ‘anything else’ hovered over the table, silencing everything it touched.