“Stay with me, Five,” Addison yelled. “You can die at the end of the world with the rest of us, not in a fucking wheelbarrow!”
The leveller moaned, curled up in the foetal position.
“I’ll take that as a yes!”
Addison ran on. He had no idea what was wrong with Five, no idea if he was going to make it, no idea what the hell he had to do when he got to the upper levels, but at least he was doing something.
Finally, the wheelbarrow levelled out at the top of the institute. They were on a balcony on the opposite side of the pyramid to the room he’d fled to that first day, the one with the viewing window. This side had an identical doorway, and he knew he was in the right place by the inert mantis drone lying on the floor outside. It was dead, knocked out by whatever had done for the rest of the pyramid.
Addison laid the wheelbarrow down and started hammering on the door.
“One?” he yelled. “Four? I’ve got Five. He’s in a bad way!”
There was no answer. Addison screamed in frustration and aimed a savage kick at the door. He screamed again at the pain that blossomed in his toes.
“Help!” he shouted. “We need help!”
The door hissed open, revealing Four, haggard, bleary-eyed, pistol drawn
“What is the meaning of––”
“No time!” Addison shouted, pointing desperately to Five. “He’s sick. Dying. Help him!”
To her credit, Four reacted immediately. In one fluid movement, she scooped up the limp form of her colleague, tossed him over her shoulder like a ragdoll and ran back through the open door.
“Returnee” she yelled from inside. “Assist me!”
Addison followed after. The levellers’ chambers were the same as the viewing room, but here there was a quintet of bizarre red-black plinths, almost like thrones, laid out in a crescent shape at the centre. One and Two were each sat on a pair, both restrained by a metal neck brace attached to the backboard, watching in astonishment. A complex tangle of tubes spilled from the back of their skulls through a hole in the plinths and onto the floor, where they snaked across to a central column that whirred and gurgled. In the translucent red/black material Addison could make out faint liquids and viscous fluids.
“Addison!” Four yelled.
She was sitting Five down onto one of the empty plinths. He hurried over to help take the now-unconscious man’s weight.
“Is he okay?” he breathed.
“If we get him hooked up in time,” she panted, frantically attaching cables.
“What the hell is all this?”
“Dialysis.”
“What? Why?”
“Because of you!” she yelled, fingers flying. “Because of the things you people poured into the atmosphere. If you’d lived on this planet as long as us, your blood would be swimming with toxins too. This cleans us out, keeps us alive. Press here.”
Four pointed at something metallic on Five’s neck, and Addison realised it was the man’s interpreter. It was small, circular, like a large screwhead, and in the middle was a hollow indent. As he pressed down, holding things in place, Four readied a horrifyingly barbed cable behind the plinth.
“You do this every night?” Addison whispered.
“We need to.”
“But Five didn’t today?”
“Evidently.”
“Why the hell did he do that?”
“Because he’s a fool!” Four snapped, sweat beading on her brow. “He must have left when we were asleep, trying to fix the machines and reascend the hierarchy, as if that matters now. Hold, hold… there!”
The cable slid into Five’s skull with a solid thunk. There was a whirr from the machines, a sickening gurgling and then a chime from the central column. A neck brace whipped round automatically to hold Five’s head in place, then Four collapsed backwards, sprawling onto the mistwall floor with a relieved sigh.
Addison breathed out.
It was over.
“Returnee!”
Addison jumped. One was staring at him from his plinth. Restrained, the leveller looked almost comical, rigid and unable to move, but his expression was as searching as ever. There was a long pause as they regarded each other.
“We owe you a debt, Mr Moore,” the judge replied eventually. “Three staved off the storm, but it knocked out our power. We are on backups, hence why your interpreter is only partially working, but we shall be operational presently. As for Five, you have returned him to us and for that we are grateful.”
Addison saw his moment and seized it, speaking before he could second guess himself.
“I want something in return.”
The judge’s eyes narrowed.
“You have done a good thing Mr. Moore, but you are in no position to make demands.”
“I want an assistant.”
“You want what?” Two said, sat beside the judge.
“An assistant,” Addison repeated. “You’re processing ten returnees a day now, I can’t keep up. I’m exhausted, overwhelmed, I need help. An assistant.”
“You need nothing of the sort,” Four snapped. “You will perform your duties as instructed.”
“Except I can’t do my duties!” Addison shouted, with a vehemence that startled the levellers. “I’m one man, and I’m at my limit. Don’t believe me? I was down in the lower levels because I was trying to kill myself. I’m telling you, I need a fucking assistant!”
There was a long silence. Four began to say something, but One cut her off with a hand.
“You have a suggestion, Mr. Moore?”
Addison took a deep breath, everything hanging on the answer to his next request.
“Re-level Taka Everett.”
“Out of the question,” Four said.
“But you can do it?” Addison pressed “A duplicate? You have his sample on file, so just run it again. It’d be easy, like growing another plant from the original cutting.”
Another long pause.
“I am not entirely opposed,” One replied. “But we can almost certainly pick a more suitable candidate. We selected you based on very particular criteria, there must be someone more qualified in the archives.”
“No, it has to be Taka!”
Addison had expected this. He had his arguments ready.
“First,” he began, counting off on his fingers. “Taka adjusted the quickest out of the chair, quicker even than me. Second, you said we need
