She was listening.
“Remember our conversations all those nights? Remember you telling me what that other silo was like? Do you understand how close to that we got?”
She chewed her lip, reached for one of the glasses, and took a long drink of water. Peering over the lip of the glass, she waited for him to continue.
“We have a chance, Jules. To hold this place together. To put it
She set the glass down and lifted her palm for him to stop.
“If we were to do this,” she told them coolly, looking from one of their expectant faces to the other. “
Peter frowned.
“No more lying,” she said. “We give truth a chance.”
Lukas laughed nervously. Peter shook his head.
“Now listen to me,” she said. “This isn’t crazy. It’s not the first time I’ve thought this through. Hell, I’ve had weeks of nothing
“The truth?” Peter asked.
She nodded. “I know what you two are thinking. You think we need lies, fear—”
Peter nodded.
“But what could we invent that’s scarier than what’s
“When these places were built, the idea was that we were all in this together. Together but separate, ignorant of one another, so we didn’t infect the others if one of us got sick. But I don’t
Lukas tilted his head. “Yeah, but—”
“So it’s us against them. And not the people in the silos, not the people working day to day who don’t know, but those at the top who
Lukas raised his eyebrows. Peter ran his hands up through his hair.
“You guys should think about it.” She pushed away from the table. “Take your time. I’m going to go see my family and friends. But I’m either in, or I’ll be working against you. I’ll be spreading the truth one way or the other.”
She smiled at Lukas. It was a dare, but he would know she wasn’t joking.
Peter stood and showed her his palms. “Can we at least agree not to do anything rash until we meet again?”
Juliette crossed her arms. She dipped her chin.
“Good,” Peter said, letting out his breath and dropping his arms.
She turned to Lukas. He was studying her, his lips pursed, and she could tell he knew. There was only one way this was going forward, and it scared the hell out of him.
Peter turned and opened the door. He looked back at Lukas.
“Can you give us a second?” Lukas asked, standing up and walking toward the door.
Peter nodded. He turned and shook Juliette’s hand as she thanked him for the millionth time. He checked his star, which hung askew on his chest, and then left the conference room.
Lukas crossed out of sight of the window, grabbed Juliette’s hand and pulled her toward the door.
“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “Did you really think I would just accept that job and—?”
Lukas pressed his palm against the door and forced it shut. Juliette faced him, confused, then felt his arms slide gently around her waist, mindful of her wounds.
“You were right,” he whispered. He leaned close, put his head by her shoulder. “I’m stalling. I don’t want you to go.”
His breath was warm against her neck. Juliette relaxed. She forgot what she was about to say. She wrapped an arm around his back, held his neck with her other hand. “It’s okay,” she said, relieved to hear him say it, to finally admit it. And she could feel him trembling, could hear his broken and stuttered exhalations.
“It’s okay,” she whispered again, pressing her cheek against his, trying to comfort him. “I’m not going anywhere for good—”
Lukas pulled away to look at her. She felt him searching her face, tears welling up in his eyes. His body had started shaking. She could feel it in his arms, his back.
And then she realized, as he pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers, that it wasn’t fear or panic she was sensing in him. It was
She whimpered into their kiss, the rush to her head better than the doctor’s drugs. It washed away any pain caused by his hands clutching her back. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt lips move against her own. She kissed him back, and it was over too soon. He stepped away and held her hands, glanced nervously at the window.
“It’s a… uh—”
“That was nice,” she told him, squeezing his hands.
“We should probably—” He jerked his chin toward the door.
Juliette smiled. “Yeah. Probably so.”
He walked her through the entrance hall of IT and to the landing. A tech was waiting with her shoulder bag. Juliette saw that Lukas had padded the strap with rags, worried about her wounds.
“And you’re sure you don’t need an escort?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. She shrugged the bag higher up her neck. “I’ll see you in a week or so.”
“You can radio me,” he told her.
Juliette laughed. “I know.”
She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, then turned to the great stairwell. Someone in the passing crowd nodded at her. She was sure she didn’t know him, but nodded back. Other chins were turning to follow her. She passed through them and grabbed that great curved bar of steel that wound its way through the heart of things, that held those pouting and worn treads together as life after life was ground away on them. And Juliette lifted her boot to that first step on a journey far too long in coming—
“Hey!”
Lukas called after her. He ran across the landing, his brows lowered in confusion. “I thought you were heading
Juliette smiled at him. A porter passed by, loaded down with his burdens. Juliette thought of how many of her own had recently slipped away.
“Family first,” she told Lukas. She glanced up that great shaft in the center of the humming silo and lifted her boot to the next tread. “I’ve got to go see my father, first.”
Q&A with Author Hugh Howey
Q: Is this really the end?!
A: To quote every one of my favorite Top-10 kung-fu movies:
Q: Why are these books so cheap?
A: Because I’m a big fat nobody, that’s why! Until you have a name for yourself, you are forced to strum your guitar in subway stations and scribble your poetry on bathroom stalls. Later, people will pay for
