Unlike me, Kidra had been doing as instructed and gathering her quota of Frostbloom. And now she was stuffing some of her morning’s work into my mostly empty basket.

"Appreciate the help, but you should keep it to yourself. At this point either the trapdoor has loot in it, or I'm already screwed." I said.

"I'd rather prepare for both outcomes." She transfered another handful of that weed into my basket. "I have enough for two."

They say life finds a way, but this weed, Frostbloom, took that lesson and ran with it. No doubt cheated too, given the unnatural metallic tint covering the leaves. That didn't look organic. And to be fair - I genuinely doubt anything organic could possibly survive on the surface.

The trapdoor had a handle along with a few gears on the side, likely some sort of system to assist in opening it. I grabbed the handle and gave it an experimental tug before answering back. "He'll find out anyhow," I said. "That helmet of his will scan the weeds."

"There is a chance he forgets. At least there's a possible backup plan. Changing topics, how many breaths is it today?” My sister asked, deflecting the topic, while I attempted to pry open the recently freed trapdoor.

“Twenty two.”

“There’s an instrument called a thermometer to calculate this, brother. I can even buy one for you.”

“Bah, it’s just numbers on a gauge. Twelve breaths means something more... let's say 'visceral and real' than some emotionless number.” This trapdoor was clearly not going to open up easily. I considered asking Kidra to slice open her way through, but that came with its own issues. I'll confirm that the door is immovable first before resorting to that.

I tugged on the trapdoor handle more firmly this time. It still wouldn't give. Going to have to savagely pull with both my legs and arms here.

Kidra came to my side, grabbing another part of the handle. “Where do you come up with these ideas?”

“This time," I said in between breaths, "I can’t take all the credit. I got it from Teed. He likes to convert Celsius into theoretical seconds of exposure needed before frostbite. When he says ‘Today is 10 seconds’ you get a much better sense of how cold it is.”

With a metal screech, the trapdoor finally gave in to our demands. It revealed a concrete staircase going down. Kidra and I stared down into the pitch darkness below.

"My dear sister, I couldn't have done this without you. I'll allow you to go down into the spooky dark basement first."

Kidra scoffed, patting the rifle on her side. "As if that was ever in question. Remind me again who has the rifle? And who has a pistol that’s cheaper than snow?"

That would be her, yes. The bargain price pistol would be mine.

Triggering our headlights, Kidra drew the rifle in place and descended the steps, the lights piercing into the gloom. I followed behind, my pistol out and ready.

The stairs led down to a metal blast door. Fortunately for us, nobody locked it on the way out. A bit of muscle and the old door swung open on old hinges. There wasn’t a rush of air from a temperature difference, so it must have been here long enough that the environment equalized through the metal.

Behind the door was a single square room filled with old instruments. Dust covered every panel and keyboard. Every screen black and dead. A few old shrivel chairs gave the safe house a truly cramped feeling.

Kidra stepped in slowly, rifle leveling through all the possible angles. This was the dangerous part, where possible damgers might have been laid out or structural failures. Flakes flew up with each step we took into the room, lit up brightly from our headlights.

“Looks like we’re here first.” I muttered out.

“I find it difficult to believe so many scavengers missed this. Was it hidden away?”

“Yep. Obscured from view. I did a bit of digging on a hunch before I could even see the trapdoor.” It was too odd to see the remnants of a hallway finish on a dead end.

“So instead of gathering Frostbloom like assigned, you went searching blindly, on hunches?”

I jabbed a thumb at my chest, “Hey, In my defense, whose hunch paid off? Me. Mine did.”

The old seats still looked sturdy enough and I slipped into one easily. Terrible squeaking and creaking. A little awkward with the environmental suit’s backpack and metal plating, but good enough.

“What is your objective here?” Kidra asked next, headlight examining the different consoles while I got to work. “Even if you do find a power cell, he’s still going to yell at you for not bringing back a harvest.”

“He technically didn’t specify I had to be the one that harvested all those weeds.”

“... You planned to trade scrap you found for Frostbloom. Anything to avoid work, huh?” Kidra said, connecting the dots.

“Yep, two for one deal. Even if the tech I need isn’t here, I’ve still got my bases covered. You know what they say, if you’re working hard, you’re doing it wrong.”

“They don’t say that at all, you say that.” Kidra shot back, to which I tactfully ignored.

From the consoles, screens and wordings I could read, I’m mostly positive this was some sort of security CNC center. Would make sense to have that kind of operation deeper underground. Hence why it’s still completely intact, unlike everything else. Problem was that security centers wouldn’t hold any of the information I’ve been searching for. The only files I’ll find here are security logs maybe. None of those highly coveted printing files. Sighing, I moved on to plan B.

"Do you believe there’s anything of use around?" Kidra asked, still scanning the room for dangers.

"They probably had a local backup generator setup somewhere, if they were smart." I replied, scanning the room for loot. "With luck, we might really find a power cell to pawn off."

If there’s circuitry, then there’s wiring. And if there’s wiring, there’s a path to follow that leads to power. In moments, I’d found my target and traced it back to a panel.

Locked, of course.

“I could cut that for you.” Kidra offered, as I tested how firm the metal was with a few tugs.

“I have a more civilized tool for the job, you barbarian,” I said, unhooking a crowbar from my backpack. A few seconds of aggressive negotiations later and the panel dropped on the dust filled floor with a groan. Bent and defeated.

Behind were breaker switches, lots of buttons and one large lever with a red handle. This must have been the safety release toggle. That’ll open up the maintenance panel where we could get to work unhooking the expensive power cell. I’ll then sell it for a week’s worth of Frostbloom and gloat about it.

I flipped the switch.

Nothing happened. "Uh, it didn’t work."

"What was it supposed to do?" Kidra asked, rifle still up.

"It's supposed to connect mechanically to a maintenance panel, but I think the gears got disconnected. There wasn’t any weight when I pulled it."

Rifle shots sounded out upstairs. The local comms exploded out in my speakers, mayhem starting upstairs. “Roach’s been shot! Need backup right here, right now!”

It pinged only a few feet away according to the tracker.

“We’re nearby and can assist. What’s going on?” Kidra barked out, switching frequency to the local area, all business now.

“We were tryin’ to disassemble a broken turret,” A woman’s voice said. “But the thing turned back on just now and started shooting! We need a relic knight over here now!”

Ratshit.

“I’ve got him stabilized,” She continued. “He wasn't wearing his metal right, old fool. Some of the bullets nicked him by his leg. Nothing I can’t patch up, but it’s got us pinned behind a wall. Not sure how long this will hold!”

Kidra turned to me, switching over to private comms again. "Can you fix it? Now?" She practically hissed at me. I tried flipping the switch back up. Nothing happened. Of course.

"Let me find out what’s wrong under the hood." I replied and wiggled the paneling under the switch with some more crowbar action. More sounds of shooting drifted down the stairs, I felt my stomach start making knots. I don’t have a single good memory related to gunfire while on the surface.

Finally, I broke the covering with a heavy yank. And cursed the moment I saw what was actually under the switch. This would not get fixed.

"What?" Kidra asked.

These people might have lacked common sense and got bombed to the ground for it. But they’d been surface dwellers like us. Of course they hadn't gone out peacefully. "They rigged the panel."

Kidra swore.

Their plan made sense. Some scavengers come by - likely the ones that bombed the place - and try to loot the booth. They go for the obvious power cell, and trigger the turret unknowingly. Get shot to pieces the moment they exit.

Someone had been real salty about their home getting blown up. And nobody made an easily fixable trap either.

My sister turned to the stairs the moment she realized I wouldn’t get lucky shutting down anything from here.

"Wait! I shouted out after her, "We just need to wait for a relic knight! They can take care of everything."

"And how long will it take? They’re all out past the perimeter! We are responsible for this Keith, we have to step up."

"Well, technically you didn’t flip that switch, I did. And secon- wait, wait come back!"

Kidra stormed up the stairs. Nothing I said could convince her otherwise. She took her duty to the house and caste too seriously. Relic knights had the gear to tank turret fire. We, on the other hand… are very squishy if the bullets hit the wrong spots.

She wasn’t dumb though, no heroic charge from her. Instead she stalked carefully once up the stairs. Towards the sounds of danger, covering every angle with her rifle as she advanced. I followed behind, complaining the whole way but pistol grudgingly at the ready.

The noise came from a block of concrete that could rotate on itself. Twin gun barrels sticking out. Already turning around to aim at us.

My sister’s rifle aggressively fired before the turret could fully rotate. The bullets pinged off the concrete block, dealing absolutely no damage. It, of course, returned fire the next moment. We dove to separate sides, hiding behind loose metal ruins. Bullets ringed against the wall, loud enough to sink past all my suit layers. Instruments on my arm flared, needles pointing at the increased power draw, trying to either recycle or vent the extra heat I was generating.

“The thing’s too thick for rifle fire!” I shouted over to Kidra.

She knocked her head, exasperated. “Do I look blind to you!?”

The turret turned, looking back for its original targets. I could see them huddled now, two scavengers cowering.

Hang on. “They said they were working on dismantling it, right?”

Kidra caught on exactly what I’d been thinking, “Perhaps they left some panels exposed?”

“Not sure, but if they did can you land the shots?” I asked.

“You get me the time. I’ll find the panels and I will not miss.”

I took a quick peek to see what I was working with and immediately dove back. How’d it spot me that fast? Little bits of death whizzed above, right where I’d been a few seconds ago. The suits could hold back the cold, but they weren’t going to hold back machine gun fire.

“Getting you that window might be easier said than done. That thing will take my head off if I even peek at it!” I yelled back.

“Well solve it somehow! You keep claiming you’re a big boy, right?”

“Can I answer no?”

She didn’t reply, instead threw me the worst possible curse she could think of with her free hand.

This thing was almost predicting when we’d stand up. Except that turrets don’t operate on intuition. The machine either knows or doesn’t. And the only way it could know is if it can see through walls.

There weren't a lot of ways a targeting system could do that. Occult magic doesn’t mix well with tech, so it’s not some strange new occult... weirdness giving it sight. Warlocks are all rich anyhow, you’re not going to find any on the surface.

X-ray? No, too short range and needed a lead backdrop. Infrared camera? Yeah, that was cheap and could do the trick. I could fool that.

A bit of fiddling on my arm instruments and I vented all the spare heat. A moment later, bullets from the confused turret started firing wildly at the exhausted waste air. I was right. Dumb programing overcome by brilliant human ingenuity.

Kidra’s rifle barked out before I could even call for the shot. She got three rounds before the turret turned to deal with her.

“Scrapshit! I hit those panels directly! Do we have a plan B?” Kidra said.

Well, if it survived the bombings and decades of neglect, I suppose a few measly bullets wasn’t going to break it now.

“Try again?” Not my greatest idea ever, but what else could we do?

“Fine. Give me another distraction.”

I could fire blindly. No need to land my shots, just spook the turret. Kidra would do the rest.

“Take your shots on my mark… and… mark!” I whipped the pistol over my cover.

The stupid thing shot the gun out of my hands right away. Can’t tell if it was by accident or good targeting, but my pistol was sinking like a rock into the snow somewhere. Now I was both trapped behind this wall and also disarmed.

“Did you get it?” I yelled out.

“Your distraction didn’t last even a second! What do you think?!”

“I think that sounds like a ‘No’.”

“Stay out of the way.” A somber voice ordered over the comms. “I’ll deal with this.”

Great. The cavalry had arrived. And out of all the relic knights that could come to the rescue, it had to be him.

- Father