I finally got that passage done. Now we go back to revising.
The switch I had pulled had also turned on the emergency lights. Their harsh glared revealed a gorgeous corridor, filled with delicate friezes and mosaics, that I perceived as a blur as I ran for the Scout’s elevator. I wasn’t sure what I could do, once I got to the surface (I mean, I couldn’t just leave them here), but having an unclimbable shaft between me and them sounded like a great idea until a better plan came to mind.
I got to the lift easily. I slapped the up button — and nothing happened. I did not slap it again, repeatedly. That’s what people who panic easily (and die early) do in bad situations. Instead, I popped off the back of the casing holding the button, noted without real surprise the conspicuous lack of connecting wires, and started looking for spares. They train you hard to not freak out in the Tomb Worlds, because if you start, you’ll be doing it literally for the rest of your life.
“She took out the wires without damaging them, Pam.” I didn’t freak out from hearing Oft, either. That would get in the way. “You really don’t need to get new ones.”
I gave him a look. He and the Anticipant were there, but keeping their distance. The Anticipant in fact had the wires in her hand: she waggled them at me, as if to mock me — and then she lobbed them over, with perfect aim and precision. I plucked them out of the air without even thinking about it.
“Did you need us to back off some more?” asked Oft. “We can retreat a bit while you get the lift up and running, if you really need some time alone to process this. If not — we’re done down here, right?” he asked the Anticipant, who nodded vigorously, while frowning. “Yes, we’re done down here, and neither of us are inclined to linger. Personally, I would rather not try to figure out where the bathroom is.”