Lukas was waiting for her on the landing. He smiled a greeting and insisted on taking her shoulder bag, however light.
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” she said. But in truth, she found it sweet.
“I just got here,” he insisted. “A porter told me you were getting close.”
Juliette remembered the young girl in light blue coveralls who’d overtaken her in the forties. It was easy to forget that Lukas had eyes and ears everywhere. He held the door open, and Juliette entered a level packed with conflicting memories and feelings. Here was where Knox had died. Here was where Mayor Jahns had been poisoned. Here was where she had been doomed to clean and where doctors had patched her back up.
She glanced toward the conference room and remembered being told that she was mayor. That was where she had suggested to Peter and Lukas that they tell everyone the truth: that they were not alone in the world. She still thought it a good idea, despite their protestations. But maybe it was better to show people rather than tell them. She imagined families taking a grand journey to the Down Deep the way they used to hike up to gaze at the wallscreen. They would travel to her world, thousands of people who had never been, who had no idea what the machines that kept them alive looked like. They would travel down to Mechanical so that they could then pass through a tunnel and see this other silo. On the way, they might marvel at the main generator that now hummed, perfectly balanced. They could marvel at the hole in the ground her friends had made. And then they could contemplate the thrill of filling an empty world so very much like their own, remaking it how they saw fit.
The security gate beeped as Lukas scanned his pass, and Juliette returned from her daydreams. The guard behind the gate waved at her, and Juliette waved back. Beyond him, the halls of IT sat quiet and empty. Most of the workers had gone home for the night. With no one there, Juliette was reminded of Silo 17. She imagined Solo walking around the corner, half a loaf of bread in his hand, crumbs caught in his beard, a happy grin on his face as he spotted her. That hall looked just like this hall, except for the busted light that dangled from its wires in Silo 17.
These two sets of memories jumbled in her head as she followed Lukas back to his private residence. Two worlds with the same layout, two lives lived, one here and one there. The weeks spent with Solo felt like an entire lifetime, such was the bond that formed between two people under strain. Elise might dart out of that office where the kids had set up their home and cling to Juliette’s leg. The twins would be arguing over found spoils around the bend. Rickson and Hannah would be stealing a kiss in the dark and whispering of another child.
“—but only if you agree.”
Juliette turned to Lukas. “What? Oh, yes. That’s fine.”
“You didn’t hear a word of that, did you?” They reached his door, and he scanned his badge. “It’s like you’re off in another world sometimes.”
Juliette heard concern in his voice, not anger. She took her bag from him and stepped inside. Lukas turned on the lights and threw his ID on the dresser by the bed. “You feeling okay?” he asked.
“Just tired from the climb.” Juliette sat on the edge of the bed and untied her laces. She worked her boots off and left them in their usual place. Lukas’s apartment was like a second home, familiar and cozy. Her own apartment on level six was a foreign land. She had seen it twice but had never spent a night there. To do so would be to fully accept her role as mayor.
“I was thinking about having a late dinner delivered.” Lukas rummaged in his closet and brought out the soft cloth robe that Juliette loved to pull on after a hot shower. He hung it from the hook on the bathroom door. “Do you want me to run you a bath?”
Juliette took a heavy breath. “I reek, don’t I?” She sniffed the back of her hand and tried to nose the grease. There was the acidic hint of her cutting torch, the spice of exhaust fumes from the digger — a perfume as tattooed on her flesh as the markings oilmen cut and inked into their arms. All this, despite the fact that she had showered before she left Mechanical.
“No—” Lukas appeared hurt. “I just thought you’d enjoy a bath.”
“In the morning, maybe. And I might skip dinner. I’ve been snacking all day.” She smoothed the sheets beside her. Lukas smiled and sat down next to her on the bed. His face bore an expectant grin, that glow in his eyes she saw after they made love — but the look dissipated with her next words: “We need to talk.”
His face fell. His shoulders sagged. “We’re not going to register, are we?”
Juliette seized his hand. “No, that’s not it. Of course we are. Of course.” She pressed his hand to her chest, remembering a love that she’d kept hidden from the Pact once before and how that had wrenched her in half. She would never make that mistake again. “It’s about the digging,” she said.
Lukas took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then laughed. “Only that,” he said, smiling. “Amazing that your digging could come as the lesser of two harms.”
“I have something else I want to do that you aren’t going to like.”
He raised an eyebrow. “If this is about trying to spread news of the other silos, about telling people what’s out there, you know where Peter and I stand on that. I don’t think those words are safe. People won’t believe you, and those who do will want to cause trouble.”
Juliette thought of Father Wendel and how people could believe amazing things crafted from mere words, how beliefs could form from books. But perhaps they had to want to believe those things. And maybe Lukas was right that not everyone would want to believe the truth.
“I’m not going to tell them anything,” she told Lukas. “I want to show them. There’s something I want to do up top, but it requires help from you and your department. I’m going to need some of your men.”
Lukas frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.” He rubbed her arm. “Why don’t we discuss it tomorrow? I just want to enjoy having you here with me tonight. One night where we aren’t working. I can pretend I’m just a server tech and you can be… not the mayor.”
Juliette squeezed his hand. “You’re right. Of course. And maybe I should jump in the shower real quick—”
“No, stay.” He kissed her neck. “You smell like you. Shower in the morning.”
She relented. Lukas kissed her neck again, but when he moved to unzip her coveralls, she asked him to douse the lights. For once, he didn’t complain as he often did about not being able to see her. Instead, he left the bathroom light on and shut the door most of the way, leaving the barest of glows. As much as she loved being naked with him, she didn’t like to be seen. The patchwork of scars made her look like the slices of mineshaft that cut through granite: a web of white rock standing out from the rest.
But as unattractive as they were to the eyes, they were sensitive to the touch. Each scar was like a nerve ending rising from her own Deep. When Lukas traced them with his fingers — like an electrician following a diagram of wires — wherever he touched was a wrench across two battery terminals. Electricity fluttered through her body as they held each other in the darkness and he explored her with his hands. Juliette could feel her skin grow warm. This would not be a night where they fell fast asleep. Her designs and dangerous plans began to fade under the gentle pressure of his soft touch. This would be a night for travelling back to her youth, of feeling rather than thinking, back to simpler times—
“That’s strange,” Lukas said, stopping what he was doing.