Free The Loss (Zombie Ocean Book 4) by Michael John Grist Page A

instruments are operating all around us."
    Salle sucked at the air. This was her dream.
    "I thought it'd be more like the Biospheres," she said, playing for time. "At least partly open."
    "It was open, when the bulk of them were sealed in. Some of them have been down there for months already. A whole section there," he pointed at a barren stretch, "was open, and it will open again when the ten years are up."
    Salle surveyed the empty stretch. "How?"
    "There's a system. A lift will carry the three thousand up in one hundred person loads, and you'll be greeted as a hero up top. Now, Miss Coram, we're on a schedule."
    He gestured to the hole. She took a deep breath, swallowed her doubts, and looked down. The ladder chute was well lit and walled with clinical white plastic, stretching down several stories. She stepped above it, took a deep breath, and started down.
    "There are two elevators down there," the man called from above. His voice startled her and she looked up to see him silhouetted against the disc of blue sky.
    "Are you not coming?" she called back.
    "No. Only the one on the left functions, and someone will be at the bottom to meet you. The one on the right was used during construction; now it's sealed up."
    There was a grating sound, and the manhole cover crept across the disc of sky like an eclipse, leaving her with only the bright white strip lighting built into the chute. Last time to see the sky in ten years. Loud metal clanks signified the manhole locking.
    "Damn," she muttered to herself, and continued climbing. As she descended the strip lights above her cut out, plunging the depths above into darkness. It was creepy and hurried her along, like a rat being driven through a laboratory maze, until it felt like the darkness was about to overtake her. Just past the midpoint a strange wave of nausea washed over her, like the world was flexing in on itself, but she was moving too urgently to stop and kept climbing through until she reached the bottom, panting.
    The lights above snipped off right above her head, leaving her in a small circular room, just big enough to contain two metal doors with a metal button between them. She caught her breath and gradually the nausea ebbed, though the sense of disorientation remained for hours, like she'd left part of herself behind.
    "Don't be a chicken," she muttered under her breath, and pushed the call button. At once the elevator on the left opened, as big as a shower cubicle, clean and simple in white. She got in, the doors closed and the elevator descended. Some twenty seconds passed, then the doors opened on something wholly unexpected.
    Lars Mecklarin. He was standing in a large, warm and summery hall, grinning. Salle stared. The walls were orange, the tall ceiling was yellow, there were flowers on a long wooden table down the middle, and there were huge windows showing a pastoral scene of green fields stretching into the distance.
    Her jaw dropped. One of the windows was slightly ajar, and through it blew a gentle breeze scented with sweet pollen. She raised a hand to point. Wasn't she underground?
    Mecklarin spread his arms, as charming as ever. "Salle Coram. Thank you so much for coming. It's a pleasure to have you."
    It was overwhelming.
    "I thought," she said, then paused. "I mean, thank you. Thank you for inviting me in." She looked around the room again. "But I expected something much more rudimentary. Based on the projections on TV and past Biospheres.
    Mecklarin grinned, his pale Nordic features slightly mischievous. "Of course. But then you've never seen one of my MARS projects." He sat at the table and invited her to the seat opposite. "Of course you think you have, but that's because we only show the media a select few zones. That's one of the secrets I've kept up my sleeve."
    She found herself staring at the half-open window. "But-"
    "A sensory trick," he said. "Video screens combined with a fan and perfume. The Habitat is laced with tricks like it, and if