He waved my comment away. “I'm sure you were busy.” He sprinted to the computer and tapped a few keys. “Come see what happened before the video camera died.”
The screen showed the long cylinder and control panel for the Transmission. Bluelights glowed in the empty room. Then the daylights flooded as three men dressed in maintenance coveralls approached the control panel. Logan pressed a key and the men moved super fast as they went back and forth from the panel to the machine.
“They worked on the Transmission for about an hour,” Logan said. “Here's where it gets interesting.”
Their actions didn't make sense to me, but there was no missing the bright flash just before the panel exploded. The men flew back and the screen turned dark.
“The energy pulse blew the video camera.” Logan swiveled around to me.
“Did they cause the explosion?”
“No. I studied that whole hour and it appeared to me they were repairing the damage from before.”
“What happened then?”
“The panel must have been rigged to blow when they reached a certain point.”
“Rigged by who? Did you see anyone else work on the machine?”
“No. The booby trap was in place before you installed the video camera.”
Booby trapped prior to the explosion? It didn’t make any sense. Everyone wanted the Transmission fixed. I pointed at Logan’s screen. “That first explosion set off a bunch of others.”
“Overkill for sure. One was enough to obliterate the controls. Can you place another video camera in there for me. I'd like to see the extent of the damage.”
“A mangled mess, according to Bubba Boom.”
Logan sniffed. “I'd still like to see it for myself.”
“Okay.”
He gave me another video camera and a list of supplies. I climbed into the air shafts and crossed to the power plant. The Transmission was located in the southeast corner and the damage to the floor and walls from the first explosion hadn’t been repaired yet.
Finding an intact shaft was difficult, but I switched to the heating ducts, and managed to circumvent the open areas. As I drew closer, the sound of an argument reached me. Strained, worried, and upset voices shouted at each other. I doubted anyone listened to the replies if there were any.
I peeked through the vent. Most of the Committee members gathered around a hole in the middle of a control panel. The metal had been peeled back as if a giant fist had punched through the panel. Black scorch marks streaked along the sides and water dripped from everything. At least the sprinkler system had doused the fire. Unlike the fabric in the air filters, there wasn’t much here to burn. It looked bad, but not quite the mangled mess of Bubba Boom’s description.
Hank and a few of his crew stood together, enduring the ire of the Committee members. I waited until they left and placed the video camera just below the vent.
I returned to the infirmary and helped Lamont change bandages and feed patients. The follow up care wasn’t as interesting to me as the initial treatment. Surgery fascinated me, but I’d be happy to let someone else take charge of a patient’s recovery. All part of my impatience. Another aspect of my personality that led me into trouble.
A few hours into my shift, Domotor wheeled into the infirmary. Three shades past pale, his haggard expression regarded me with desperation. I yelled for Lamont and ran to him, asking him to list his symptoms, checking his pulse.
He gave me a weak smile. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well…I’m physically as fine as possible considering the broken back.”
Lamont arrived with her scanner. “What hurts?”
“My ego. Apparently, I don’t look well.”
She paused. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“Nothing a good meal and ten hours of sleep won’t cure, Kiana,” he said.
I winced at the use of her first name. It had been so long since I heard it. To me, that name equaled pain. They pretended not to notice.
