Doyle and van Dyckman both rolled their eyes. Garibaldi looked surprised by the comment. “You don’t get infected by radiation, Senator. You should at least have a basic understanding of the science if you’re in charge of funding all these programs.”
Pulaski angrily cut off the lecture. “I don’t care what word you use. It doesn’t seem safe, trapped in here and surrounded by so much nuclear material. We were supposed to move quickly through the facility.”
“Mountain personnel spend entire work shifts here, day after day,” Shawn said. “We’re well shielded from any radiation. You’ll be fine.”
Garibaldi still looked shaken. “How rigorous was your review of this old facility before you recommissioned it last year? If you think a small amount of ambient radiation in a sealed tunnel is dangerous now, just wait until all these vaults are full. Are you certain you understand every aspect of the situation?”
Pulaski lifted his chin. “Dr. van Dyckman performed the review, and I accepted his recommendation.”
Garibaldi was exasperated. “And that poor woman is trapped in the chamber. None of you can even imagine what she’s enduring in there.”
Adonia looked at the controls of the vault that trapped Mrs. Garcia, but they had reset themselves and steadily blinked with spurious characters. Instead of doing nothing, she punched in a few options and tried to activate them. Nothing happened.
Van Dyckman spoke as if he knew what was going on. “Is there any way we can communicate with Harris in the meantime? At least he can tell us what’s going on.”
Walking on bare feet, Adonia headed down the tunnel to the sealed main door. “Maybe there’s some other way to open that vault door in an emergency. Shouldn’t there be a crash bar? A fallback egress?”
Van Dyckman followed her. “The analog systems were present on the old vaults, not on my upgrades. I made sure Hydra Mountain was up to modern specs before we received our first shipment for storage.”
“Just get me the hell out of here.” Pulaski brushed off his knee, which had suffered a bruise when he’d fallen.
Standing at the sealed exit door that closed off the entire tunnel, Adonia scanned the controls, a mishmash of old 1950s-style switches and a modern LED panel. She saw neither a safety bar nor any other mechanical means of opening the thick metal door, not even an old-fashioned combination dial. Nor a phone.
Adonia recognized a leftover relic that wasn’t one of the new digital upgrades. “Look, an intercom — Cold War vintage. I wonder if it still works.” When she pushed the Talk button, feedback screeched out of the speaker. After releasing the button, she twisted a black ribbed knob, which she guessed was a volume control. She leaned close and pushed the button again. “Hello?”
“Operations center. State your identity.” The voice sounded scratchy. The intercom probably still had its original speakers.
Adonia was losing patience. Who do you think it is? We’re the only ones inside a top-secret facility on a Sunday morning. Then she remembered how much of a stickler Harris was. By the book, all the way. She drew in a breath, calming herself. “Adonia Rojas, with the review committee. Is Mr. Harris there? We’re trapped in one of the tunnels, and our escort, Mrs. Garcia, is locked in a dry-storage vault. Can you open this door?”
“The lockdown will be lifted shortly, ma’am. We’ve had a Class A incident, and Mr. Harris is managing the situation.”
Adonia frowned. A plane crash? The sick feeling returned to her stomach. “Can I talk with him? He put me in charge of these people.”
The scratchy voice sounded terse. “You are safe. Please remain where you are while I get Mr. Harris. Stand by one.” The speaker clicked and fell silent.
As the others gathered round, Adonia tried to offer some encouragement. “They’re working on the problem. At least they know where we are, thanks to the intercom. I imagine it won’t be too much longer.”
“I hope not,” Senator Pulaski said. “This Valiant Locksmith review is one thing, but I have other classified programs being discussed at this week’s oversight hearing.” He turned to van Dyckman. “Is there any way I can contact my staff, Stanley? With all that upgrade funding I approved, you must have included some modern means of communication down here.”
Van Dyckman opened his mouth to speak just as the intercom speaker clicked. “This is Rob Harris. Ms. Rojas, is everyone all right?”
“We’re fine, but Mrs. Garcia is trapped—”
Senator Pulaski pushed forward and demanded, “Harris, lift the damned lockdown and open this door.”
Undersecretary Doyle spoke from the back of the group. “Calm down, Senator.”
Harris’s voice came from the speaker. “I apologize. A small plane made a hard landing inside Hydra Mountain’s restricted perimeter, and DOE policy required that I initiate a security lockdown. Response teams are on their way to assess the downed aircraft, but preliminary indications are that it is merely an accident. As soon as that’s confirmed, the lockdown will be lifted.”
Adonia pushed the Talk button. “You are aware that we heard a safety alarm, and not a security one, much less a facility-lockdown alarm.”
Harris took a moment to answer. “Yes… we’re aware.”
“Are you in contact with Mrs. Garcia? Is she safe inside the chamber?”
“And can we do anything to help her?” Shawn added.
“She’s waiting it out, just like everyone else,” Harris said. “I’ve spoken to her on a separate line. The storage chamber has an independent suite of detectors from the tunnels, so she had to disable the sensors. In the meantime, we’re working to open the main tunnel door and get you out of there as soon as the lockdown’s lifted. We’re still trying to understand why the different systems are bleeding over.”
Garibaldi stepped close to the speaker. “We were brought here to review your storage operations, Mr. Harris. This is a unique and serendipitous opportunity to hear about the safety and security features, and how they interact. Have all your different systems been fully tested in an integrated fashion? These are ancient, analog DoD artifacts interacting with your new digital DOE systems. Old-school and new technology don’t always play well together.”
“We’ve tested the sensors and alarms, but not in every conceivable combination.” Harris’s voice hesitated on the intercom, as if he was embarrassed. “And I’m well aware that you heard the safety alarm and not the one for a facility lockdown, but we’re working on that problem as well. Just stay put and don’t tamper with any sensors you see.”
Shawn looked concerned as he pressed the Talk button. “What about the plane crash? How serious is it? Any casualties? Damage?”
“None that we know of. The pilot made a rough landing in high winds after taking off from Albuquerque International. He’s inside our fence, which set off both our legacy and newer sensors. When the lockdown was executed, my staff thinks the old safety and networked security systems bled over. That led to, uh, unexpected interactions in the lockdown. Not what was anticipated.”
“You’re saying it’s a goat rope,” Senator Pulaski fumed.
“What a surprise.” Garibaldi lifted his brows at Stanley. “Crossover between decoupled systems can never happen, right, Dr. van Dyckman?”
Van Dyckman opened his mouth, but Pulaski nudged the others out of the way so he could reach the intercom himself. “Harris, can you patch me through to my staff back in Washington? It’s important.”
“Sorry, Senator. Since you’re inside the tunnels, communications have to go through Valiant Locksmith channels, and most of your staffers aren’t read into the program. You’ll be able to contact your office on a secure line as soon as we get you out. Just be patient, please.”