Because people ignore other people in uniform in a place like this, and its easier to get on over my arm than one of their uniforms, I said. Coat, please. You can keep the badge.

He stripped it off, no doubt rationalizing that if he didnt, Id just knock him out and take it anyway. Which I would have, probably. I took it and very carefully threaded my wounded arm through the sleeve, hissing a little as the not-very-flexible fabric scraped over sensitive, burning skin. Once I had it on, though, I felt better. I buttoned it up, grabbed a gun from one of the snoozing guards, stepped over another one, and went to the far door. When I swiped Miless card through the reader, the door buzzed open.

Reid was still watching me, and I could see the struggle in himshoot me? Stop me? Wish me luck?

In the end, he didnt say or do anything at all. And that was okay.

I slung the semiautomatic rifle over my neck and used Oversight to get a good look at where I was going. The good news was that given the relatively mild aetheric energy of this place, I could fairly easily spot approaching people and avoid them. Nothing special about the buildinghallways, doors, offices, desks, filing cabinets. It was very clean. As Reid had said, there was only a skeleton crew here, so I made it from the infirmary to the door Id identified as being closest to my goal in record time.

Outside, the wind was turning cool, rattling loose bits of gravel and sending an occasional tumbleweed rolling around. I hugged the exterior of the building for a second, looking for guards; there were several, and at least one had a high vantage point and a rifle. That wasnt so great.

Id have to have faith in the lab coat.

I set off across open ground, walking with a purpose and trying not to show off the fact that I had a giant weapon with me. I tried to walk like a doctor on her way to a patient. Calm, but focused.

It must have worked, because I made it across a hundred yards of open space, under the eyes of at least four heavily armed men, to the entrance to what was, at the aetheric level, a maelstrom of black energy.

Weapons, built for maximum damage. Even dormant, even stored, that energy swirled and eddied around them, restless and hungry. Disturbing. I swallowed hard, stood at the door, and swiped my card. There were all kinds of warning signs telling me that I had to follow strict security and safety protocols while inside this facility. Yeah, I was going to absolutely do that, first chance I got.

The biometric scanner lit up, requesting me to put my hand on the glass. I did, and while it was reading, I reached deep inside the works and blew it apart. Easier than it sounds, with high technology. When your security depends on soldered connections, you are screwed if an Earth Warden wants in.

The security designers were good, but not quite good enough. I managed to intercept the signal that zipped over to the door to tell it to lock down and sound the alarm, and converted the energy into the all-clear electronic pulse.

The door popped open, and I stepped into a sterile little anteroom, with another, identical scanning system at the far end. Protective gear was neatly stored, and I put on a suit, more for blending in than for what it would offer me. Second door, same verse, and then I was inside a hallway. There, a large, colorful map indicated that I was in a blue section. Blue section was the least dangerous, I gathered.

There were a few workers in this part of the plant, but a confident walk, a wave, and a badge seemed to do the job nicely. Nobody was doing much at the moment; operations were at an idle, and boredom had set in. I followed the color-coded maps to the elevators at the far end. More biometrics, which was a pain in the ass; I hoped they hadnt security-locked the bathrooms, too.

Finally, after the third biometric I had to destroy, I decided to take an end run around the problem. Fire codes said that all security doors had to open in the event of a fire emergency.

I created one. Not a big one; I didnt want to bake anybody, or even give them smoke inhalation, but I pulled some jittery power from the electronics and built myself an impressive-sized fire in a nest of empty boxes in a storeroom. Fire suppression kicked in, but with a little concentration, I was able to keep the fire blazing despite the countermeasures.

Thirty seconds later, the biometric scanners began flashing FIRE EMERGENCY, and I heard the clicks as secured doors began to unlock. The elevators stopped working, but I could get around that; it was a simple mechanism, and I needed to go all the way to the bottom anyway.

I stepped inside just as three people in protective gearone with an automatic weapon slung over itentered the corridor and looked straight at me. He had fast reactions, and I couldnt jam his gun and keep the fire going at the same time. Too many balls in the air.

He got off five shots, aiming straight for my chest.

I dont remember getting hit; my entire concentration was on slamming shut the elevator door, cutting the cables, overriding the friction brakes, and letting the car drop in a free fall. At first I felt sick and dizzy, and figured that was an effect of the falling, but then I smelled blood. I looked down and saw two separate wounds in my side, ragged holes puncturing my protective white suit. I unzipped it and stepped out. There wasnt any pain yet, or a lot of bleeding, though red rings were steadily forming on my lab coat around the bullet holes.

Fantastic, I said. Thats just great.

Gravity was definitely a harsh mistress, and never more than at a time like this. I watched in Oversight, gauging how far Id fallen, how much farther still remained, and trying to do complicated math in my head. I was approaching seriously terminal velocity, and I was going to have to start slowing my descent.

Jo! Davids voice, blasting unexpectedly from the speaker in the elevator. I jerked, and my concentration shattered. Pain began an insidious drumbeat in my side, dammit, too soon. . . . I pushed it, and David, aside and concentrated harder. I was sweating now. Shaking. And there was a growing pool of blood forming around my shoes, how had that happened? Didnt seem right.

I dropped to my knees, then pitched forward flat on my stomach. I screamed at the impact, because damn that hurt, but it was important to try to distribute impact force over as wide an area as possible.

I reached out for power in the air around me, found it, and began building a thick, cold cushion of air beneath the falling elevator. I increased its density, and felt a significant decrease in the speed at which I was falling.

But I was still falling.

David was saying something, but I couldnt pay attention, not anymore. I needed more power, more braking, and I needed it now.

I couldnt get it. When I reached out for power, it slid through my grasp like oil. I felt weak, clumsy, and wetoh yeah. I was wet because I was lying in a pool of blood.

David was almost screaming at me now. I couldnt spare a second of concentration; I had to maintain what Id already done, keep slowing down, try to make this crash survivable. I was running out of elevator shaft.

I threw one last, ultimate effort into it and eased the car to a sliding, jerking stop.

The button dinged, and the doors opened.

For some reason, I couldnt get to my feet. Maybe because the blood was slippery. I was a mess, and I needed a bath, a nice warm bath to let all of this float away. . . . That sounded good.

But I forced myself up, bracing myself with both bloody hands on the doors of the elevator. My vision was spotty, with circles of darkness swallowing the glare of white lights. Everything seemed to be moving except me.