When Worlds Collide (Part 1/6)

Maintenance personnel at Aaron and Marcus

 A bolt of lightning split the sky, making it bleed rain that gently tapped the asphalt parking lot of the facility. I pulled out my umbrella and started to walk across the rest of the parking lot with other facility personnel. As we walked through the automatic doors, periodically stepping over large indents in the floor where blast doors sealed, the automatic smart announcement system greeted us. It identified the badges implanted into the top of our scalps to determine if our IDs read as security, maintenance, administration, or scientific personnel. Everything, so clean that a clear mirror image of yourself and the people next to you reflected off of the white, epoxy floor that stretched across the entire ground floor.

"Today's security code is 9-25-31-42-18," an announcement echoed off the walls and down the hallway where visitors and interns sat on benches while boxes and crates passed overhead, carried by tiny, cube-like ceiling robots. As I walked down the main hallway, I spotted dozens of floors laid out in a stair-like structure with the dreading dweebs at the bottom front. Researchers, scientists, and physicists in the middle floors, CEOs and other executives at the top back, looking over everybody that entered the facility. A waterfall poured down each level, flowing equally through mossy rocks.

The work here? Great; everybody, except some of the security guards, still remain kind, the pay is great, even the food is better than what I am able to make at home. Still an intern at the time, I only knew where the washroom and some of my new friends' offices are, but I still seem to lose myself in the maintenance ducts from time to time. Every day, the same�"as a maintenance assistant, I helped replace pipes, light bulbs, and other electronics used in research and development. After years of working there, climbing the ranks, I’ve become increasingly more used to my environment. After hundreds of contests and bets, I managed to memorize patterns in the lunch and breakfast menus; I can still remember the names of every researcher who worked on the second floor. Although one day stood out the most: December 8th, 2028. Walking to work one day as usual, "Meatball subs for lunch today Aaran!" I shouted as usual, expecting him to disagree with me.

"Not today, Marcus," Aaran replied with an unusually serious tone. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into a maintenance closet, checking twice to make sure nobody followed us. "Listen, something's wrong. Dr. Schmector's been acting strange lately. Last night, I was doing my regular rounds in IT when I overheard him talking about neutralizing the competition. He mentioned something about TEC being in the way."

I laughed, "Come on Aaran. The CEOs always have their little power struggles. Remember the coffee machine incident last month?"

"This is different," he whispered, pulling out his tablet. "Look at these requisition forms I found. IT ordered enough purified uranium to power half the country. Why would a tech company need that much nuclear material?" Before I responded, the facility's smart system crackled to life. 

"Attention all personnel. Due to a level 3 security protocol, all maintenance staff are required to report to sublevel B immediately." Aaran's face went pale. 

"That's not a real protocol. They're making it up." My heart started racing. Working in maintenance gifted us access to nearly every part of the facility�"including  restricted areas. 

"What do we do?"

"We need to warn Dr. Mant," Aaran said, already heading for the service tunnels behind the closet. 

"If what I heard is true, IT's planning something big, and it's happening today."

The service tunnels appeared as a maze of pipes and electrical equipment, illuminated  by strips of LED lighting that seemed to pulse with the facility's power flow. We crawled through them as quietly as possible, our knees quickly becoming dirty from the sharp, metal grating. Above us, we heard the sounds of boots, security teams mobilizing.

"Almost there," Aaran whispered as we approached the access panel, eventually leading us to TEC's executive floor. When just as he reached for the panel, the lights in the tunnel turned red.

"Emergency lockdown initiated, emergency lockdown initiated," the automatic smart system announced. "All personnel must remain in their current locations." The sound of magnetic locks engaging echoed through the tunnel, trapping us.

"They know," I said, my voice shaking. "They must have tracked our badges."

Aaran pulled out a multi-tool from his belt. "Not yet. Remember that backdoor we installed last month when we were fixing the climate controls? The one we didn't report because we were too lazy to file the paperwork?" I nodded. Our laziness might just save us.

"If we can reach the main server room, we can shut down the security systems. But we'll have to be quick. Once they realize we're not in sublevel B with the others..."

An explosion rocked the facility, making the tunnel shake. Dust rained down from above.

"What was that?" I asked, though I already knew. The timing? Just too perfect, just too planned.

"IT's making their move," Aaran said with a bit of a monotone before letting out a sigh. "They're trying to take control of the facility by force. We have to hurry.” 

We doubled back through the tunnels, using our maintenance access to bypass the locked sections. The sounds of chaos echoed from above�"shouting, running, and more explosions. Through the vents, we spotted security teams moving in a strict formation, but unlike the usual facility guards, they wore IT division patches. They wore all black outfits instead of the usual blue vests.

Finally, we reached the server room access panel. Aaran pulled up the building schematics on his tablet. "The main security console should be on the east wall. If we can�""

The panel burst open from the other side. We scrambled back, expecting IT security, but instead found ourselves face to face with a tall man with silver hair and a coffee-stained lab coat. Dr. Wendel Tully; everyone knew about his infamous coffee addiction and brilliant mind, but I'd never seen him up close.

"Inside. Now." He pulled us through the panel, revealing not just a server room but what looked like a makeshift command center. Monitors displayed security feeds from across the facility, and a holographic blueprint of the building hovered in the center. Dr. Mant stood nearby, speaking urgently to a communicator.

"Aha, our maintenance experts," Dr. Tully said, taking a long sip from his coffee mug. "We've been watching you two. Not many people know about that climate control backdoor you installed. Sloppy paperwork can be useful sometimes, wouldn't you agree?"

"You knew about that?" Aaran asked, his face becoming flush.

"We know about everything," Dr. Mant cut in, turning away from her communicator. "Just like we know Schmector's been planning this operation for months. The uranium shipments, the security reassignments, the so-called 'routine' maintenance checks in restricted areas�"it was all preparation." 

Another explosion rocked the facility, closer this time. Dr. Tully barely managed to save his coffee. "What we didn't know," he continued, pulling up a complex diagram on one of the screens, "was how soon he'd make his move. We have a resistance organized within TEC scientists, engineers, and security personnel. But we need your help."

"Our help?" I asked. "We're just maintenance workers."

Dr. Mant's eyes narrowed. "You're maintenance workers who know every tunnel, every access point, every system in this facility. And right now, Schmector's men are escorting three trucks full of weapons-grade uranium through our front gate under the cover of a routine delivery." Aaran closely looked at the diagram on the screen. 

"These are the new transport routes you added last month, aren't they? The ones with the reinforced supports for 'heavy equipment transfer'?"

"Precisely," Dr. Tully said, grinning. "Schmector thinks he has complete control of the shipping manifest system. He doesn't know about the maintenance override codes."

I started to understand. "The manual release mechanisms in the tunnel network. We could�""

"Trap the trucks between security checkpoints," Aaran finished. "But we'd need to access at least three different control stations simultaneously."

Dr. Mant nodded. "That's why we have a team. Dr. Tully has managed to reprogram the automated security responses. When we trigger the lockdown, it will look like a system malfunction."

"And while Schmector's men are stuck dealing with that," Dr. Tully said with a slight grin, refilling his coffee mug from a massive stainless steel thermos, "our people can secure the uranium and get it to a safe location."

Another explosion, and the lights flickered. The holographic blueprint wavered but held steady. "We don't have much time," Dr. Mant said, checking her tablet. "The trucks are approaching Checkpoint A. Are you with us?" I looked at Aaran. We've known each other as friends since our first day as interns.

He nodded slightly. "We know a shortcut to the control stations. Through the old vacuum tube system they decommissioned last year."

"But never actually sealed off," I added as a small smile spread across my face. 

"Because someone was too lazy to file the work order." Dr. Tully's eyes lit up. "Sometimes the best revolution starts with bad paperwork. Let's move."

The plan remained functional�"until it all collapsed. Two of the trucks were trapped between the security checkpoints, just as planned. The first two vehicles surrendered quickly, but the third truck? That's when everything went sideways.

"Get out of the vehicle with your hands up!" Dr. Tully's voice pierced through our security speakers. Instead of cooperation, we just received gunfire. The truck's passenger window exploded as an IT guard opened fire with what looked like high class military-grade weapons�"definitely not standard security equipment.

"Get down!" Aaran and I darted  behind two of the concrete barriers. Bullets ricochet off the metal and concrete, sending sparks flying. Through all the chaos, I saw Dr. Tully diving behind one of the support pillars, somehow still clutching his coffee mug.

"They're protecting something in that truck," he shouted over the gunfire. "Something much much more than just uranium!" The truck's engine coughed to life. It rolled backwards before slowly rolling forward at an accelerating rate. But we will not allow this to jeopardize our mission.

"Marcus!" Aaran tossed me what looked like some sort of modified maintenance tool. "Remember that EMP device we were testing for the electrical systems?"

I caught it, just beginning to understand what I am meant to do with it. "The one that kept frying all of the coffee machines?"

"If you can get close enough�""

Another burst of gunfire cut him off. But now, from the back of the truck, bullets flew from the machine gun of a researcher. Not a guard. But a researcher.

"They've got one of their scientists with them," Dr. Tully observed, pulling something from his lab coat. "And judging by that weapon configuration, they're not just transporting uranium. They're transporting something already weaponized!"

The truck's engine revved higher. "Cover me!" I shouted, and sprinted from behind the barrier. Bullets whizzed past as Aaran and Dr. Tully returned fire. The researcher in the back stumbled, their shot going wide and exploding a control panel in a shower of neon sparks.

I slid under the truck like we used to do during maintenance checks, my knees scraping on concrete. The EMP device hummed and started to glow a light blue as it powered up. Above me, I heard boots on metal�"somebody coming back to check underneath.

"Now or never," I muttered, and triggered the device.

The effect, instant. The truck's electronics died with a satisfying whine. Emergency lights kicked in throughout the tunnel as the pulse ripple outward. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard the researcher shout something about containment failure.

I rolled out from under the truck just as something inside it started beeping more and more rapidly. The researcher's face went pale. "Clear the area!" they screamed, more scared than aggressive. "The containment unit is�""

The back of the truck erupted in a brilliant blue flash. Not an explosion; something else. When my vision cleared, the entire back section, completely covered in a layer of crystalline frost. The researcher and guards slumped against the walls, unconscious, half of their faces crystallized.

 "Experimental quantum containment," Dr. Tully mumbled, approaching slowly, whilst checking the source of the material on his tablet. "They weren't just transporting uranium. They were transporting an active weapons prototype."

Aaran helped me up, brushing concrete dust off my uniform. "That's why they fought back. They couldn't risk us discovering what they really were transporting."

"Is it... safe?" I asked, glancing at the frost-covered truck.

"For now." Dr. Tully replied, already making calls on his comm unit.  "But we need to move fast. That containment breach will have sent automated alerts to Schmector's systems."

"The Cold War bunker?" Aaran suggested.

Dr. Tully nodded grimly. "Let's move. And Marcus? Next time maybe give us a warning before setting off an EMP? You killed my coffee heater." We secured the unconscious IT personnel and began transferring the trucks to the hidden tunnel network, the quantum containment unit humming in the back of the last vehicle. As we drove deeper into the maintenance tunnels, their headlights cutting through the darkness, The feeling of superstition pulsed through my head every time I thought of a different possibility.

"Take the next left," Dr. Tully directed from the passenger seat. 

As we drove the trucks through the maintenance tunnels, their headlights cutting through the darkness, The feeling that something  out of place right continued to stick in my mind.

"Take the next left," Dr. Tully directed from the passenger seat, his tablet displaying a maze of tunnel routes nobody but himself knew of. 

"So how many other secret bunkers are there?" I asked, steering the heavy truck through the narrow passage.

Dr. Tully took another sip of coffee, the steam fogging up the windows. "The less you know right now, the better. Let's just say TEC has been preparing for something like this for a long time."

The tunnel suddenly opened into a massive underground chamber. The other two trucks emerged behind us, their headlights revealing rows of futuristic equipment and what looked like an experimental reactor core.

"Welcome to Project Firewall," Dr. Mant's voice crackled through our comms. She stepped out from behind a bank of monitors, his face illuminated by dozens of screens displaying complex data, confusing me at first sight. "This is where the real work begins."

As we secured the uranium and powered up the hidden facility's systems, a message flashed across the main screen: "FACILITY CORE TEMPERATURE RISING - REACTOR STABILITY COMPROMISED."

Aaran looked at me, his face pale in the blue light of the monitors. "You don't think..." "Schmector's not done," Dr. Tully said grimly, setting down his coffee mug. "This was just phase one. He's going for the prototype."

The screen flashed again: "WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS TO REACTOR CONTROL SYSTEMS DETECTED." An alarm activated, making an unbearable deep sound of a gargantuan tuba. The sound of the beginning of the demise of all Earth life.