‘You've been away from it. Your mind's been concerned with just one thing over the past few days: self- preservation. Even through your delirium it's been fighting, refusing to let go. And Clare - Dr Reynolds - says your mind's been doing something else too.'
Culver gently caught her wrist to stop her fingers moving through his hair. 'What would that be?'
The brain is a remarkable machine, it can do several things at once. While it was helping you pull through, it was also adjusting.'
'Adjusting?'
To everything that's happened. Oh, you've had your nightmares, some beauties by the sounds of them, but all the time your mind was accepting, going through everything that's happened, and, well... digesting it, if you like. We've had to go through the same stages, but consciously. We've had to live through it over and over again and, as you can see, some of us didn't make it. There are others who still won't.'
He let go of her wrist and her hand dropped into her lap. 'Will you?' he asked.
'I'm not sure. At first I thought it would be impossible. Now I don't know. It's incredible what you can learn to accept. I don't mean that this nuclear war will ever be acceptable to any of us, but eventually I think our circumstances will. We'll live with what we have.'
Culver was startled by the change in her. But then she had still been in a state of profound shock in their first few hours inside the refuge. There had never been the chance for him to see what lay beyond that state. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. 'It seems we've had this moment before. Or something like it.'
Kate managed to smile again. Tes, when we first arrived. It helped me.'
'Me too. Want to try again?'
She blinked, and he guessed it was to clear the moistness in her vision. 'We're both wanted elsewhere,'
she told him.
He raised his eyebrows.
'Alex Dealey wants to see you in the Operations Room.'
'So he's already set up a company command.'
This place is more surprising than you think. Even the engineers who worked here on a day-to-day basis had no
idea what the shelter comprised, exactly. Apparently much of the complex was out of bounds even to them.'
'Yeah, that makes sense. The authorities wouldn't want the word to get around that such underground bunkers existed. People might have read something into it and become frightened.' He grinned. 'You mean I can get out of this goddam bed without the doc slapping my bottom?'
'She won't condone any more malingering.'
He shook his head once, still grinning. 'She's changed her tune. One problem: do I go naked or do I make a toga out of this sheet?'
'I'll get your things.'
Kate quickly walked to a small door at the other end of the sick bay, glancing at the prone figures lying in the other bunkbeds as she did so. She disappeared through the door and Culver heard the sound of what must have been a locker opening then closing. She returned with some familiar items of clothing.
'Cleaned, but not pressed,' she announced, dumping them in his lap. 'Oh, and I did my best with the hole in your jeans. It doesn't look too good, but at least it's stitched.'
‘You've been busy.'
There hasn't been much else to do.'
He separated the clothing. 'Er, do you want to wait outside?'
She surprised him again by laughing, for there was genuine humour in the sound. 'Culver, I've washed you and wiped you and seen anything you've got to offer. It's too late to be coy.'
His feet Touched the floor, but the sheet remained over his nakedness. He flushed red. This is different.'
Kate turned away, still smiling. 'Okay, I promise not to
peek; but I won't step outside. You may not be quite as strong as you think.'
When he stood, Culver understood what she meant. Dizziness hit him and he grabbed the top bunk.
She was at his side instantly.
'Easy, Steve,' she said. 'It'll take a little while.'
He waited for his vision to clear, one hand on her shoulder, locks of her hair brushing against his fingers. He was conscious of her body's natural scent, its freshness, and the arm she had around him, the warmth of the hand on his hip.
Thanks,' he mumbled. 'I should have listened. I'm coming together, though. If you could just hang on to me for a minute.'
She did, and was glad to.
‘You could easily get lost in this place,' Culver remarked as Kate led him through the grey corridors.
His legs still felt weak, his head still light, but there was a swift-returning vitality to his senses that made Culver wonder just what Dr Reynolds had been dosing him with.
'It's quite a complex,' said Kate. 'I don't pretend to understand any of their machinery, but apparently this place is a repeater station, according to the technician - sorry, engineer - who gave me a guided
‘Your. I'm afraid intermediate distribution frames and motor driven uni-selectors don't do much for me.'
Kate glanced at him. 'It's eerie seeing all this electronic equipment which isn't actually doing anything. I mean, you can feel it's alive, the current is still running through, but it's like some slumbering dinosaur, just waiting for something to rouse it.'
'Maybe it's already become extinct. This kind of technology may not play much part in our immediate future.'
'I don't think I could survive winter without my electric blanket.'
Try a hot-water bottle. Or another warm body.'
She avoided his eyes and he suddenly felt foolish. Stupid remark, he scolded himself. He quickly went on: 'I take it they haven't managed to contact anybody yet?'
'No. They've even used a continuous punched tape on a telex machine, but nothing's come back.
We've no way of knowing what's going on out there.'
That could be for the best right now.'
The corridor opened out and they almost bumped into a small but broad-shouldered figure emerging from behind a ceiling-high row of apparatus. Unlike many of the men inside the complex, he was clean shaven and his light yellow hair neatly combed.
'Hiya,' the man said almost cheerfully. 'How you doing? Feeling better?'
‘Yeah, okay.'
'Good. Catch you later.'
He passed them and strolled down the corridor, hands tucked into overall pockets and whistling tunelessly.
'He seems cheerful enough,' Culver said, watching the man's back.
'His name is Fairbank. He's one of the happier souls down here. Nothing appears to bother him. He's either supremely well-adjusted or crazy.'
'How about the others? From what I saw last time they didn't look too good.'
'Moods change all the time. It's contagious. One day the atmosphere's charged with an unnatural optimism, the next
day you can feel the deep depression hanging in the air like a black fug. You've seen how disturbed some are in the sick bay. One or two others have been treated in there that you wouldn't know about -
