They had entered at the highest of four levels, and could look down from a shiny silver railing. Each floor had rubber-like flooring with flat circles raised no more than three or four millimeters as if to provide traction on what would have been a smooth surface. One side of the building was a dark and solid wall, while the other, made of huge triangular-shaped pieces of glass fitted together with massive metal rods, allowed a noon-time-strength burst of sunshine in. The railing at which Marina and Gabe stood was a mere eight feet wide; behind them was a dark wall, and in front of them was a drop clear down to the first level.
As soon as she’d stepped from the center-splitting door, Marina had registered the buzz of activity below and backed away. People moved about their business below, and it was only good fortune that no one had cause to look up in their direction. And a blessing that they’d come out on the uppermost floor instead of any other.
Gabe nudged her with his elbow, and raised his eyebrows. Did she want to go further?
Damn straight. She nodded back. She was in this up to her gills; and besides, if this was possibly a community of Skaladeskas — or at least people who knew them — she was bound to find out something about her father. And if they were, indeed, responsible for the three earthquakes.
Marina looked down again, huddling behind one of the great steel columns that held up the ceiling, which was made of the same material as the walls as they curved up into a half-dome above them. There were about two dozen or so people visible at any given time.
Could she and Gabe blend in among them without being noticed? Certainly they’d have to change their clothing, as the people moving below were all wearing light-colored, loose pants and shirts. Not a uniform exactly; at least as far as she could tell; but definitely not the jeans and flannel shirts she and Gabe had donned.
Was this a company; a business? Or a residential community of sorts? Despite its similarity to one, it wasn’t an airport terminal. Or would strangers stick out like the intruders they were?
Gabe had begun to move along the solid metal wall behind them, and Marina turned just as he opened a door that had previously been hidden. She hurried to his side and, when he slipped through the sliver of entrance, she followed without hesitation.
An office.
The door closed behind them and they stepped into the room with perfect synchronization. Computers lined one half-moon wall made of glass, and chairs that reminded Marina of the stools in a beauty salon studded the long workspace that lined a blank wall.
Flipping a switch that appeared to lock the door behind her, Marina felt safe enough to wander over to one of the terminals and sit down at the chair. The monitor screen showed white fuzz and its computer keyboard was tucked under the desk on a movable tray, just as ergonomically correct as her own workstation back at the University of Michigan.
When Marina pulled the tray out, she was slightly surprised to see that the characters were the standard QWERTY-format keyboard. She’d half-expected there to be the foreign characters of a non-Anglo language ….most particularly, Skaladeska.
When she shifted the bullet-shaped mouse, the white fuzz evaporated from the monitor and she found herself looking at the very familiar Windows Desktop screen.
That clinched it for her. Gabe’s GPS phone was wrong. They had to still be in Canada — or perhaps they’d shifted back to the States.
An idea perked in her mind, and on a whim, knowing it was a long shot, she clicked on the email program icon. Perhaps, perhaps, there was something interesting in there. Like maybe an email from Victor to herself?
The email program popped open, but before she could begin to scroll through it, Gabe came up behind her and tossed a bundle of clothing into her lap. “Let’s get out of our clothes and into something less obvious.”
“All right, but cream is so not my color.”
Gabe ignored her; instead, he jabbed a thumb toward a half-open door at the end of the worktable. “I’ll be the lookout while you change.”
She slid off the chair, noticing that he’d already made the switch. Gone were the jeans and green and rust plaid shirt; replacing them were a pair of off-white linen-like trousers and a natural-fiber-colored top that buttoned down the front. His feet were still clad in the same hiking boots he’d been wearing since they’d been kidnapped back in L’Anse.
The fabric of the slacks was unlike anything Marina had ever felt before. Woven like fine linen, the cloth bore a silky sheen yet felt lightweight. It wasn’t silk and it wasn’t linen … it was something in between, and it didn’t appear to be wrinkle-prone. Not quite as nice as stretchy matte jersey, Marina decided as she pulled them on, but pretty close.
When she stepped back out of her temporary dressing room, Gabe was clicking away on the computer. She walked up behind him and saw that he had opened a browser window and was surfing the Net.
“This is no time to be shopping at Amazon,” she commented. “But I’d like to check my email if that’s connected to the Net. On the off-chance Dad’s been in touch again.”
“I wanted to make sure there wasn’t a firewall or anything that would keep us from browsing the web. But much as I’d like to check my messages, and possibly send an email to Bergstrom, we shouldn’t. This machine could be monitored.”
“Okay, then let’s get out of here and see if we can figure out if Dad’s here or not.”
“Or at least where we are.”
“Everything’s in English. We can’t be outside of North America, regardless of what your phone says.”
“Split up or stay together?”
Marina considered, then replied. “I’m for staying together at this point. After all, you’ve got the gun.”
“Right answer. Let’s go.”
Marina felt the tension that had begun to leave her shoulders seep back as Gabe unlocked the door. “What’s the plan?”
“We look in every room we can for your father or something else of interest. We stay out of sight. If someone catches us, run like hell and if we get separated, meet back here.”
The hall was just as deserted as it had been when they came through the door from the cave-travel. Marina glanced toward the entrance, which had opened in the middle like an elevator door, and she marked where it was and what it looked like in case a speedy escape was necessary.
“This must be a restricted floor,” Gabe commented, looking down at the activity below. All three floors below them had at least two people moving about with purpose. “I hope there’s no alarm that goes off when we go down.”
“Let’s check out that one there,” Marina suggested, pointing to an entrance she had just noticed at the end of the hall at the opposite side from which they’d initially come. In fact, the door was set into a small alcove, and its boundary seams were nearly lost in the shadows.
He nodded in agreement, and they started off, silent-footed, down the hall.
The door opened with little effort. Marina was startled at how easily the panel slid to the side. If it was a restricted area, it was easy to leave. Perhaps not as easy to return, however.
Pushing past Gabe, she peered through. She felt strangely in her element here; as if she should be the one leading the way; making the decisions. It was something inside her, calm, yet nervy, that prompted her to step through the door and allow Gabe to follow ….if he dared.
He started, then stopped just before he stepped through. “Metal detector. Security screen.” He jerked a thumb toward the walls. “I can’t walk through with a gun.”
“Go hide it by our clothes. We can’t take the chance of setting any alarms off.”