Wool Omnibus Edition (Wool 1-5)

Lukas laughed. He looked relieved to hear this. “I bet.”

She blinked and looked at him. “There’s an infirmary on thirty-three?” His words were on a delay.

He nodded gravely. “I’m sorry, but it’s the best in the silo. And we could keep you safe. But forget that. Rest. I’ll go grab the nurse.”

He stood, a thick book spilling from his lap and tumbling into the chair, burying itself in the blanket and pillows.

“Do you think you can eat?”

She nodded, turned her head back to face the ceiling and the bright lights, everything coming back to her, memories popping up like the tingle of pain on her skin.

••••

She read folded notes for days and cried. Lukas sat by her side, collecting the ones that spilled to the floor like paper planes tossed from landings. He apologized over and over, blubbering like he was the one who’d done it. Juliette read all of them a dozen times, trying to keep straight who was gone and who was still signing their names. She couldn’t believe it about Knox. Some things seemed immutable, like the great stairway. She wept for him and for Marck, wanted desperately to see Shirly, was told that she couldn’t.

Ghosts visited her when the lights were out. Juliette would wake up, eyes crusted over, pillow wet, Lukas rubbing her forehead and telling her it would be okay.

••••

Peter came often. Juliette thanked him over and over. It was all Peter, all Peter. He had made the choice. Lukas told her of the stairway, his march to cleaning, hearing her voice on Peter’s radio, the implications of her being alive.

Peter had taken the risk, had listened. That had led to him and Lukas talking. Lukas had said forbidden things, was in no danger of being sent anyplace worse, said something that confused her about being a bad virus, a catching cold. The radio barked with reports from Mechanical of people surrendering. Bernard sentenced them to death anyway.

And Peter had a decision to make. Was he the final law, or did he owe something to those who put him in place? Did he do what was right, or what was expected of him? It was so easy to do the latter, but Peter Billings was a good man.

Lukas told him so on that stairwell. He told him that this was where they’d been put by fate, but what they did going forward defined them. That was who they were.

He told Peter that Bernard had killed a man. That he had proof. Lukas had done nothing to deserve this.

Peter pointed out that every ounce of IT security was a hundred levels away. There was only one gun up- top. Only one law.

His.

30

Weeks later

• Silo 18 •

The three of them sat around the conference table, Juliette adjusting the gauze bandage on her hand to cover the raised lace of scar tissue peeking out. The coveralls they’d given her were loose to minimize the pain, but the undershirt itched everywhere it touched. She sat in one of the plush chairs and rolled back and forth with the push of her toes, impatient, ready to get out of there. But Lukas and Peter had things to discuss. They had escorted her this close to the exit, this close to the great stairwell, only to sit her down in that room. To get some privacy, they had said. The looks on their faces made her nervous.

Nobody said anything for a while. Peter used the excuse of sending a tech for some water, but when the pitcher came and the glasses were filled, nobody reached for a drink. Lukas and Peter exchanged nervous glances. Juliette grew tired of waiting.

“What is it?” she asked. “Can I go? I feel like you’ve been delaying this for days.” She glanced at her watch, wiggled her arm so it would fall from the bandage on her wrist and she could see the tiny face. She stared across the table at Lukas and had to laugh at the worry on his face. “Are you trying to keep me here forever? Because I told everyone in the deep that I’d be seeing them tomorrow tonight.”

Lukas turned to Peter.

“C’mon, guys. Spit it out. What’s troubling you? The doc said I was fine for the trip down and I told you I’d check in with Marsh and Hank if I had any problems. I’m gonna be late enough as it is if I don’t get a move on.”

“Okay,” Lukas said, letting out a sigh. It was as though he’d given up on Peter being the one. “It’s been a few weeks—”

“And you two’ve made it feel like months.” She twisted the dial on the side of her watch, an ancient tic returning like it had never left.

“It’s just that—” Lukas coughed into his fist, clearing his throat. “—we couldn’t give you all the notes that were sent to you.” He frowned at her, looked guilty.

Juliette’s heart dropped. She sagged forward, waiting for it. More names would be coming to move from one sad list to another—

Lukas held up his palms. “Nothing like that,” he said quickly, recognizing the worry on her face. “God, sorry, nothing like that—”

“Good news,” Peter said. “Congratulatory notes.”

Lukas shot him a look that told Juliette she might think otherwise.

“Well… it is news.” He looked across the table at her. His hands were folded in front of him, resting on the marred wood, just like hers. It felt as though they might both move them several inches until they met, until fingers interlocked. It would be so natural after weeks of practice. But that was something worried friends did in hospitals, right? Juliette pondered this while Lukas and Peter went on about elections.

“Wait. What?” She blinked and looked up from his hands, the last part coming back to her.

“It was the timing,” Lukas explained.

“You were all anyone was talking about,” Peter said.

“Go back,” she said. “What did you say?”

Lukas took a deep breath. “Bernard was running unopposed. When we sent him out to cleaning, the election was called off. But then news got around about your miraculous return, and people showed up to vote anyway—”

“A lot of people,” Peter added.

Lukas nodded. “It was quite a turnout. More than half the silo.”

“Yeah, but… Mayor?” She laughed and looked around the scratched up conference table, bare except for the untouched glasses of water. “Isn’t there something I need to sign? Some official way to turn this nonsense down?”

The two men exchanged glances.

“That’s sorta the thing,” Peter said.

Lukas shook his head. “I told you—”

“We were hoping you’d accept.”

“Me? Mayor?” Juliette crossed her arms and sat back, painfully, against the chair. She laughed. “You’ve gotta be kidding. I wouldn’t know the first thing about—”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Peter said, leaning forward. “You have an office, you shake some hands, sign some things, make people feel better—”

Lukas tapped him on the arm and shook his head. Juliette felt a flush of heat across her skin, which just made her scars and wounds itch more.

“Here’s the thing,” Lukas said as Peter sat back in his chair. “We need you. There’s a power vacuum at the top. Peter’s been in his post longer than anyone, and you know how long that’s been.”