The descent wasn’t perfect, however, and they experienced a few hair raising moments. On the first leg of his ride, Wallis had leaned over the rigid edge of his bucket so that he could wave to people calling to him from a lower landing. It was just enough movement to unbalance the load and send the bucket swinging. He screeched and laughed as he bumped into another bucket, luckily an empty one, and then looked falsely chagrined when Graham yelled down at him to be still, for silo’s sake.
That had sent waves of laughter rolling through the small crowd on the landing Wallis was passing. He was heard to say that this was a test of the system and should not be used by anyone else until they worked out all the obvious kinks. That had earned another surge of laughter from the little crowd. Wallis was in his element, of that Graham was sure.
It took just hours for them to reach the landing on Level 72. Graham was amazed at how little time it took two old men to do the trip. A young porter on fresh strong legs might be able to do that, but old men? With more than forty feet for each level, most of that taken up by the thick concrete between levels, it was not a short distance.
He thought it was amazing and he said so. Wallis agreed with him that these lifts were something they should seriously look into once they could do so. He wiggled his eyebrows when he said it and Graham almost burst out laughing again at the sight of such an unsubtle signal.
They collected themselves and had a bite to eat and a drink of water as cover for their stop. It would be logical for them to take a rest, perhaps even stay the night, before moving on. There were no people looking at their folly on this level, and the few people remaining above them at the next level wandered away after a few more waves and jokes.
Once they felt relatively unobserved, they walked away as casually as two honest people in the midst of wrongdoing could manage and secreted themselves into the tiny space they were to meet Grace in. Dank, empty and smelling a bit like a dirty urinal, Graham really didn’t want to see anything he might be touching in this unused room and they leaned on the walls instead of sitting.
The only real duty Graham had while they waited was to check the radio and ensure the repeaters did their job. He checked in with Nella and got a strong voice in response, which eased one fear of failure at least. After that he had nothing more to do save dwell on all the other things that could go wrong.
Graham had never been a naturally nervous person, otherwise he would have never been selected for his job, but over the past seven-day he had almost grown used to the constant surges of panic and the feeling that his stomach was trying to climb up and escape through his nostrils.
After a wait long enough that the men opened the door to let in a sliver of light and search for things to sit on, Grace peeked in and wrinkled her nose at the smell. Graham had no clock but he did have a timer on the radio and he had set it, more or less accurately, before he left his rooms. He took a quick glance at it in the light of the open door and saw they had plenty of time to get into place and prepared. He tugged on Grace’s sleeve to pull her into the space and shut the door before speaking.
Graham whispered into the dark where he last saw Grace, “I’m so glad you’re here. I was a little worried you might not get my message.”
“I’m good. When are we doing this? Now? Why are you whispering?” Grace asked, peppering him with questions and not waiting for answers. Her voice sounded strong and not at all like a dying woman who just climbed a bunch of levels. And now he felt like an idiot because he was whispering on top of sounding out of breath from just sitting around.
“We’ve got a little while yet but, yes, it is today. Did you bring the tools?” Graham asked at a more normal volume.
It didn’t feel right to speak loudly and he had to resist the urge to come back down to a whisper again. He was getting more nervous and worried that something would go wrong as each moment of inaction passed. He was sure he could actually feel his hair going even grayer and his skin tightening up on his bones from the stress.
“Everything you’ll need is right here. I made a bag for each of us,” she replied. She sounded so calm that it made Graham want to grind his teeth or maybe just be envious.
A rustling sound came from her general direction and Graham flinched and squinted as light flared from a flashlight in Grace’s hand. She shoved the light toward him and when he took it, she untied the top of her own sack and withdrew three of the small green work bags seen everywhere in the silo. These three were worn and patched and stained from long years of use. The smell of grease and other chemicals, softened by ages of use, wafted up from the bags. Muffled clanks issued from within as she shifted them, one after the other, from her bag.
She handed Graham his and he was surprised at the weight of it. He wondered where she got the stamina to climb all those stairs with three of these strapped to her back, along with whatever else she might have brought. She was almost the same age as they were and sick on top of that, but there was much more to her than he had seen before. Her gaunt face and the lopsided swelling at her throat that signaled her particular affliction had pared her down until all that remained was this determined core. He wished he would have known her better before and he appreciated her unique strength now.
“What?” she asked Graham. He realized he had been staring at her and looked away.
“Nothing. I’m sorry. I just, well, I’m just amazed at you. At your strength, if you want to know the truth,” Graham answered and was glad the light from the flashlight was pointed toward a wall. He was pretty sure he was blushing if the heat in his cheeks and ears was any indicator.
In reply, both Wallis and Grace let out snorts at almost the exact same instant and then laughed at having done so. It was a strange thing to be plotting in a dark room that stank of old pee with two other elderly people. It brought out the weird in them, he guessed. He coughed politely and pointed the flashlight at Wallis so he could pull out his contributions.
Wallis opened his own pack, brought out the radios and then carefully made sure that each was set to a channel not normally used in the silo. There were not enough deputies or administrative personnel to monitor multiple channels anymore and the radios themselves only monitored the band they were set to in order to conserve battery power unless specifically set to do otherwise. They would be safe to use on this off channel, Wallis had assured them.
They tested the radios there in the dark room, each pressing an ear to the speaker to be sure the test was coming from their radio and not someone else’s. Grace took the time to go over the tools and what they would do. She made a point of showing them how to grip the cutters only on the coated handles while cutting wires to avoid a shock if it was electrified.
He didn’t need the instructions, given his life’s profession, but Wallis did and it calmed them both to listen to anything helpful said with such certainty and confidence. Graham felt his cheek twitch with nerves and he hoped very much that Wallis didn’t get electrocuted doing this.
When it was Graham’s turn, he carefully removed the folded papers from his pocket and gave them each one of the copies, retaining his and using it to remind them of their objectives. Grace’s job during their hiatus had been to get one of the panels off and confirm that the colors and tags in Silo 40’s wires were the same here in Silo 49. She had done so and Graham had carefully traced the diagram onto two more papers, fine pure sheets made in the heavy paper presses, and then transferred all the information from the original so that they would each have a complete diagram.