Salvation

“We can’t take the risk the fire will restart, Cal,” Dokal said. “Some of those canisters contained radioactive water. If we get any more oxidization on the plutonium, it could combust and rupture. Time is becoming critical. You’ve got to send the whole tank through.”

“It’s fifteen meters long, and weighs sixty tons!”

“But it’s only four meters wide. Whatever you need, Cal. There is no budget here today. You can thread up to six meters, our largest portal. I checked, and we have a pair available.”

“All right, I accept the risk,” Callum said calmly. “But my crew needs to be told.”

“Not Raina Jacek,” Poi Li said immediately. “Not with her political background.”

He almost argued. Almost. But a very bad part of his brain was thinking about being vetted by security. The problem simply wouldn’t exist if he had Poi Li’s trust on this one.

“Okay, Raina will be in the Gylgen control room. I’m talking about Alana, Colin, and Moshi; they’re the ones who’ll be physically tackling the tank with me.”

“They can be told,” Poi Li agreed.

“Let’s go, then.”

—

When Callum got to handling garage five, the crew was almost ready to go. Moshi, Colin, and Alana were in their green-and-yellow hazmat suits, running tests on the life support packs. Raina was sitting on a bench, with a thick hi-rez wraparound screen band on her face, muttering away to her mInet, hands raised midair as she deftly moved virtual icons around. Henry was with two support staff, already wearing his thermal regulator suit, which resembled a body stocking knitted out of slim tubes. The staff walked him over to the Govnex Mark VI space suit, a rigid torso with a hinged backpack that was already open for him. He had to wiggle through the small rectangular opening. Legs went in first, then he had to bend almost double, shoving his arms into the sleeves as he pushed his head through the neck ring. Callum winced in sympathy as he started to pull on his hazmat suit.

“We’re going for full disposal,” he told them. “I want to drop the whole tank out through Haumea.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re kidding, chief.”

“That’s crazy!”

“It’s not crazy,” Callum said levelly. “Something in those containers has leaked and blocked the valve. We don’t know what, and we don’t know how much. I cannot risk a partial clearance; that’d leave us a worse problem than we have now. So the whole thing goes, quick and clean. Dok has already cleared it with corporate.”

Raina had pulled her wraparound down to give him a skeptical stare. The others were all exchanging glances.

“It’s four meters in diameter, chief,” Colin protested.

Callum’s lips twitched a grin. “So we thread up to six. There’s a portal pair waiting for us on Haumea.”

“You’re shitting us!” Henry exclaimed in delight. “Nobody gets to use a six-meter portal.”

“We do.”

“Okay, then.” Alana pursed her lips in approval. “Now you’re talking!”

“So. Henry, we’ll be taking two portals. One to depressurize the tank—that’ll buy us some time—the second to thread up ready for complete disposal. That’s going to take some serious cutting. Moshi, electron beams for all of us. Colin, we’re going to need at least two cases of shaped charges. Raina, how’s your timing? We’re going to need some serious precision on this.”

“I’m insulted you asked.” But she was smiling. Like the rest of them, she had her eyes on the big prize. This operation was going to look great on their CVs, and the bragging rights they’d have over the other crews was incalculable. There was also the prospect of a bonus, always index-linked to the scale of the hazard you averted.

They used Connexion’s internal European hub network to get them to Stockholm, then there was a private portal to the Boynak offices, which put the Gylgen facility one step away. As soon as they got there, Raina went straight for the operations control room. A technician in a hazmat suit led Callum and his crew to the disposal building.

It was a standard industrial structure of metal girders covered in composite panels. Inside was a three-dimensional lattice of pipes and loader rails interlaced with stairs and suspended walkways. At the far end was the reception bay, with cargo portals linked to various collection stations across the continent. Right at the center, suspended over a deep pit, were the five tanks.

Callum took one look at the imposing matrix of metal—a brutal edifice made worse by the red emergency lights flashing across it. The sirens had been switched off hours ago. Apollo threw up a swathe of schematics, identifying components. “Leave the bugez,” he said. “They’ll take too long to scale this. We’ll carry the cases from here.”

They didn’t say anything, just did as they were told and plucked their equipment cases from the bugez. Callum guessed they were still in shock. He’d explained about the plutonium on the way over, cutting Raina out of the comms circuit.