"I. I." Jane said.
"I know, Jane, you didn't know how sensitive the trigger can be. Nobody's hurt, so let's have you come and rest for a bit."
"Okay. I'd like that," Jane said, subdued.
Daria led Jane back to the dormitories, where she took a bunk and soon fell asleep. Daria herself elected to continue exploring the bunker for an escape route.
The next room she explored made her stop and gasp. It was a huge, fully-stocked library. Just a quick perusal of the shelves closest to her revealed a bunch of literary classics. She wandered over to another shelf and read one of the book titles aloud: "The Negro Problem". Okay, so they weren't all classics.
Daria also found a wide array of technical manuals and other tomes of practical knowledge, the seeds to build a pre-industrial age civilization. While impressive, they didn't tell her where the escape hatch was, or how to drill through two feet of steel.
XXXX
The size and scope of the place really impressed Daria. There was a shooting range (unsurprising, given Jane's discovery); a gym (complete with swimming pool), showers (going two years without a shower wouldn't be very pleasant), even a theater. There were reels of both movies and TV shows present in the projector's booth, as well as what looked like Cold War propaganda films. Those would be good to watch with Jane, if only for a laugh.
She still hadn't found the damn escape hatch, though. She could think of two places where it might be hidden: Behind one of the bookshelves in the library, or behind the mess of crates in the Supplies room. But it would take a long time -- days, perhaps weeks -- to check both locations.
Her stomach rumbled. It made her think about all the food that lay entombed in here for three decades, and now she seriously wondered if it was still edible. She decided to wake Jane up, so they would find out together (or die clutching their poisoned stomachs together).
XXXX
"Okay, get ready, Jane," Daria told her, then began typing on the telegraph transmitter. "S...O...S..." Daria translated from the morse code. They had tried the transmitters on five desks before them, working off the theory that over the years the lines they and the phones had been connected to initially had been cut off or rotted away over the years. Daria was hopeful that one would work.
After a minute, the transmitter started beeping in reply. Jane hurriedly began writing down the dots and dashes as they came. Finally, after a few moments, it stopped.
"Thank God," Jane said, as Daria took the paper and began to translate it from the manual on morse code she had taken from the library.
"Shit," she uttered, stopping after only a few words.
"What? What's wrong?" Jane demanded.
Daria showed her the paper. She had written the translation under the dots and dashes -- and the words were in Spanish.
"Don't you know how to speak Spanish?" Daria asked.
Jane shook her head. "If you want me to translate amiga, sure. But I only picked up a word or two from Penny. Maybe the library has a Spanish dictionary in it?"
It didn't.
XXXX
They had moved all the tables in the mess hall to one side to accomodate the troughs of dirt they had set up which would someday grow fruits and vegetables.
The food that had been stored in the bunker was...edible, but both girls preferred something a little fresher. Hence, they had set up the gardening kit they found in the supply room (which they hadn't been able to clear out for two solid weeks of unpacking boxes and moving the contents out).
Their only hope was that the seeds that had been stored since the shelter closed had not gone stale, or dead, or whatever it is that seeds do.
As the two girls planted the seeds in each trough, Jane had a though. "What if we smashed those computers? Wouldn't the door open then?"
Daria shook her head. "They designed the system so that the door couldn't be opened prematurely, even if the residents went stir-crazy. Breaking the computers might even damage the timing mechanism -- how would you like to spend the next 200 years in here?"
"Point taken."
XXXX
Daria really wished that whoever had stocked the shelter had thought to include bathing suits.
"Do you have to do that, Jane?" she asked, avoiding looking at her friend.
"What?" Jane asked. "I can't go for a swim? Well, there isn't any room to run down here, what do you expect me to do?" The grin on Jane's face betrayed her innocent tone.
"Can't you...I don't know...use a sheet as a toga?"
Jane's mouth fell open. "That's it, Daria!"
"What? What's it?"
"Toga party!"
