The roof of Special Circumstances had looked flat andfeatureless from way up on top of the hill. But standing onit, Tally could see air vents, antennae, maintenance hatchways,and of course the big circular door that the hovercarshad come through, now closed. It was a wonder neither shenor David had cracked their heads hover-bouncing across it.
“So how do we get in?” David asked.
“We should start with this.” She pointed toward thehovercar door.
“Don’t you think they’ll notice if we come through thereand we’re not a hovercar?”
“Agreed. But what if we jam the door? If any moreSpecials show up, we don’t want to make it easy for themto come in after us.”
“Good idea.” David searched through his knapsack,bringing out what looked like a tube of hair gel. Hesqueezed out white goo along the edges of the door, carefulnot to let any touch his fingers.
“What’s that?”
UGLIES 375“Glue. The nano kind. You can stick your shoes to theceiling with this stuff and hang upside down.”
Tally’s eyes widened. She’d heard rumors of tricks youcould play with nanotech glue, but uglies weren’t allowedto requisition it. “Tell me you haven’t done that.”
He smiled. “I had to leave them up there. Waste of goodshoes. So how do we get down?”
Tally pulled a powerjack from her pack and pointed.
“We take the elevator.”
The big metal box sticking up from the roof looked likea storage shed, but the double doors and eye-reader gave itaway. Tally squinted, making sure the reader didn’t flashher, and worked her powerjack between the doors. Theycrumpled like foil.
Through the doors, a dark shaft dropped away tonothingness. Tally clicked her tongue, and the echoes indicatedthat it was a long way down. She glanced at her collarlight. Still green.
Tally turned to David. “Wait for me to whistle.”
She stepped off into thin air.
Falling down the shaft was much scarier than leaping offGarbo Mansion, or even flying into space from the hilltop.
The darkness offered no clue how deep the shaft was, andit felt to Tally as if she might fall forever.
She sensed the walls rushing past, and wondered if shewas drifting toward one side as she fell, about to crashagainst it. She imagined herself bouncing from one wall toanother all the way down, coming to a soft landing alreadybroken and bleeding.
Tally kept her arms close to her sides.
At least she was sure the jacket would work in here.
Elevators used the same magnetic lifters as any other hovercraft,so there was always a solid metal plate at the bottom.
After a long count of five, the jacket gripped Tally. Shebounced twice, straight up and down, then settled onto ahard surface and found herself in silence and absoluteblackness. Stretching out her hands, she felt the four wallsaround her. Nothing suggested the inside of closed doors.
Her fingers came away greasy.
Tally peered upward. A tiny shaft of light shone above,and she could just make out David’s face peering down. Shepursed her lips to whistle, but stopped.
A muffled sound came from below her feet. Someonetalking.
She crouched, trying to grasp the words. But all Tallycould hear was the razor sound of a cruel pretty’s voice. Themocking tone reminded her of Dr. Cable.
Without warning, the floor dropped out from underher. Tally struggled to keep her footing. When the elevatorstopped again, one of her ankles twisted painfully underher weight, but she managed not to fall.
The sound below her faded. One thing was certainnow: The complex wasn’t empty.
376 Scott WesterfeldTally lifted her head and whistled, then huddled in onecorner of the shaft, hands covering her head, counting.
Five seconds later, a pair of feet dangled next to her,then jerked back up, the beam of David’s flashlight swingingaround drunkenly. Gradually, he settled beside her.
“Wow. It’s dark down here.”
“Shhh,” she hissed.
He nodded, sweeping the flashlight around the shaft.
Just above them, it fell on the inside of closed doors. Ofcourse. Standing on the elevator’s roof, they were midwaybetween floors.
Tally interlaced her fingers, locking her hands togetherto give David a boost up to where he could wedge thepowerjack between the doors. They crumpled open with ametal screech that set her hair on end. He pulled himselfthrough, then extended his hand back down to her. Tallygrabbed it and pulled, her grippy shoes squeaking on thewalls of the elevator shaft like a herd of panicked mice.
Everything was making too much noise.
The hallway was dark. Tally tried to convince herselfthat no one had heard them yet. Maybe this whole floor wasempty at night.
She pulled out her own flashlight, pointing it at thedoors as they walked down the hall. Small brown labelsmarked each of them.
“Radiology. Neurology. Magnetic Imaging,” she readsoftly. “Operating Theater Two.&rdqu............