Abar watches the machine whir, click, and rumble as he runs the fifth trial that night. He examines the rise and fall of monitors without needing to check his clipboard to see if the numbers are where they should be—it is second nature to him by now. He almost laughs, finding it absurd that the calculations the machine produces can be copied down on pen and paper, but guilt grips his throat, reminding him what he's done and who he's become as of tonight.
I'm a thief, the bear thinks, a goddamn thief.
Sweat soaks through Abar's lab coat, drenching the bear's back in uncomfortable and necessary wetness. Stepping away from the machine, he finds one of the air vents and stands underneath its breeze, tugging at his coat to let the draft in. He shivers with pleasure, yawning in the early hours of the morning. Looking around, he can see that most of the others are exhausted as well, even the nocturnal species. They've been working for almost two days straight.
"Taking a break, Abar?" asks a clipped voice.
Abar clenches his paws. He doesn't need to turn around to know that the snide doe is behind him.
"Yes, Sheela, I am. It's hot as hell down here and you won't even let us carry so much as a bottle of water because it's-"
"Because it's against protocol, Abar. I shouldn't even need to remind you of last month's fiasco on twenty-four. Do you have any idea how much it cost for them to replace the motherboard for just a portion of that control panel?" Sheela asks, tapping her hoof against the floor.
No, Sheela, I don't, he thinks, so how about you go ask someone who cares about control panels and motherboards? Or better yet, someone who has enough patience to deal with your insufferable personality.Who promoted you to floor thirty's lead scientist in the first place?
Abar takes a deep breath, basking under the air vent a few more seconds before answering.
"I'm sorry, Sheela. I'm still trying to shed some winter weight, and the extra blubber makes it hard to stay away from the vents for too long."
Sheela crosses her arms as she stares at the sweating bear. She can the see the sluggish lag in his eyes as they shift and jerk pitifully, focusing on nothing in particular.
"Two minutes," she says, "then back to work—and if I find you still here when I make another round, I'm reporting you."
Abar thanks the doe as she walks away, tilting his head into the breeze. He looks over at 'The Column.'
The structure is colossal. Sheets of metal twenty feet tall wrap around 'the column,' blinking with lights and monitors as scientists orbit the contraption with clipboards, their assistants circling them like moons, checking each individual piece of the structure with tired precision. And that's just one of the thirty floors that it takes up. 'The Column' stretches through all thirty floors of the building, even the top two that poke out above ground. Those sections are hidden by layers of fake walls that are insulated to keep the enormous thrumming of the machine down to a dull buzz. Abar listens to the steel structure vibrate with stolen power.
Abar watches a giraffe—Miguel—call to one of the assistant scientists as he makes a slight adjustment to one of the knobs higher up. The assistant scrambles to find Sheela. Abar checks his watch—a gift from his wife for their fifth anniversary three nights ago—grinning at the species-specific pun engraved on the casing. Bearing each other for five years! He remembers how he had been offended at first, the joke sailing over his head, and how his wife had flicked his nose when he asked if she really felt that way. She told him that he worked too much, which he agreed to, and they made love after dinner that night.
Abar almost doesn't hear Sheela's clopping approach, and he hurries over to the column, banishing his memories from his mind. You'll see her and the cubs soon enough, he thinks, mentally chiding himself, just get this done for tonight and you can go home and give them the attention they deserve. For the past three months, Abar has been a ghostly presence in his house in the Meadowlands, only coming home after Maggie and the cubs were in bed. They wake up to find his breakfast dish in the sink and a note telling them that "Daddy will be done soon." Right now, Maggie thinks he's driving back from a 'science convention' in Saurotopolis, unaware of the outage because she knows he never checks his phone while he drives.
He wonders if she's awake right now, huddled in the cub's room to comfort them during the blackout. Maybe she's still asleep, he thinks hopefully, it'll all be over by morning, anyways. Guilt oozes over his insides in thick globs.
A voice calls over the loudspeaker, the announcement ringing with hollow authority throughout the giant room.
"Effective immediately: All personnel with clearance level four and lower are to make final checks before departing the building. Please finish your checks within forty-five minutes. Thank you."
Stunned silence blankets the room in wake of the simple announcement, and the scientists look towards Sheela, waiting for her word. She soaks in the order before springing into action. She strides over the floor, eyes set and determined.
"You heard him!" she yells, "They want us done in forty-five, let's make it thirty!"
There is a flurry of controlled pandemonium as the scientists rush to make final checks.
Oh my god, it's happening.
For the next thirty minutes, Abar frantically checks numbers on his clipboard with 'The Column,' marking any minute changes, but they are all within the allowable range for him to give the 'ok' when the junior scientist asks for his report. Abar sheds his coat, hanging it a hook just outside one of the elevators that lines the walls where the other scientists chat excitedly. He catches bits of their conversations, but his mind is set on Maggie and the cubs. He thinks of what he'll cook them for breakfast on the ride up, smiling when the elevator jerks to a halt at the first floor.
The guard at the front desk has them depart fifteen at a time in four minute intervals, choosing who gets to go based on what district they live in. He calls out for Meadowlands, and Abar raises his paw. He walks over to Abar, handing him a slip of paper. His directions are given in quick succession.
"Take the back roads, drive five over the speed limit. If you get pulled over, tell them that you were making sure your brother was alright, and if that doesn't work, show them this." he says, pointing at the slip of paper.
Abar nods, thanking the man before making his way to his car, already forgetting about the monstrous machine that churns with power underneath 'The Spire.'
AN: If you can't already tell by this mess of a chapter, finals week is here and it's kind of kicking my ass. I rushed this out last minute and will be fixing/expanding this throughout the week. I'm sorry for the poor quality of this, but I promised myself that I would update once a week, even if it kills me (and it seems to be doing a pretty good job of that). The characters aren't as fleshed out as I would like them to be, and there isn't nearly enough description to get a good sense of a scene, and it seems to be downright confusing, so again, I'm sorry about that.