Despite Kyso’s vocal fears of a mech incursion, they encountered no sign of bot or flyer activity. Both the sky and the snow appeared untrammeled. With strength of purpose, Traejan pushed himself and Kyso to reach the port before dusk.

By late afternoon, they were in the shadows of the crumpled tower. Close enough to judge the damage, make detailed, revealing scans – for heat – for hope. Traejan smacked his scanner as it sluggishly responded in the bitter cold.

“Check with the deep thermal to confirm it was caused by the power surge,” Kyso told him. There would be a pattern difference, as if he couldn’t tell. The energy surge would have radiated from the mirror port chamber, through whatever conduits it could, causing sudden expansion in materials made brittle by the decades of subzero temperatures. That was probably the cause of the collapse – and unfortunately, it didn’t bode well for who, or what, might have transited in.

Traejan’s scans were inconclusive. Kyso suggested they split up – scan the complex from all sides. It took the rest of the day for them to cover all the structures still poking above the ice. After night fell, under the shelter of the sled’s canopy, they argued over the collected data.

“Look at this, there are still some lines radiating from the breaks,” Traejan told Kyso. The heat difference was minimal, suggesting that it was just a one-time burst, not sustained. What encouraged him was the array of the signatures, even taking into account the slight difference in temperature. “I know it’s just a degree or two now, but even so, they’re all along the port’s power matrix.”

Kyso grimaced as he looked over the images Traejan had beamed to his scanner. “There’s nothing that shows it’s warmer in the depths, beneath the vault,” he countered. “You’re guessing; you’re hoping.”

Traejan sighed loudly.

Kyso looked up at him, face shadowy, dark red to orange from his scanner’s glowing display.

“You’re sure you found no trace of mech activity?”

Traejan had checked all around, his own fears had pushed him to that. Beyond the collapse, the drifts were untouched. Crushed for the first time under his feet since they’d set the beacon, for all he knew.

“I didn’t find anything,” he replied. “You?”

Kyso shrugged. “There’s a lot of blowing snow…”

“Kyso! The heat pattern can only have radiated from beneath the vault – from the portal chamber!” Traejan pointed at the canopy’s transparency, at the massive structure looming over them.

“Boy,” Kyso cautioned. “It’s just residual.”

“So you’re saying even if someone came from the Mirror Maze – that even if they’re still here, since the port has collapsed – they must be dead? That we came here for nothing?!”

“The scans don’t confirm there are people down there,” he reminded Traejan. “And there’s hundreds of tons of unstable material between us and the main vault. What do you want? You’ve seen what’s going on, the structure is still settling. We should at least wait until morning.”

Traejan lowered his scanner, leaned forwards, pushed right up to challenge the man face to face.

“If there’s somebody – anyone – in there,” he restarted through clenched teeth, “they could be injured, they could be dying. Waiting until it’s safe – for us – could kill them!”

Kyso leaned back, crossed his arms; the lines in his brow deepened into furrows. “Kill who? Even if your theoretical Consortians aren’t dead, we’re hardly in a position to provide medical aid for someone crushed under that, are we?!”

True or not, it didn’t matter. He had to find out. He had to try.

“I’m going in.”

Kyso made a noise of protest. Traejan cut him off.

“I’ve been practicing rescue scenarios Kyso.”

“You’ve been playing games boy,” the old man replied harshly. “This is real. How long has it been since you’ve done something real?”

Kyso was one to talk, smoke fiend that he was, but… Traejan couldn’t snap back at him. It had been three years – three whole years, since the others had died, killed by the mechs. Deaths the old man hadn’t been there to witness. Streck, he wouldn’t even go to Pakan anymore.

“Beats the kick of Nostalgia smoke, don’t you think?” he managed in a low growl.

Kyso dropped his gaze.

“It’s about time I did something real again,” Traejan asserted. “It’s about time we both did. Why else did we even come?”

The old man looked back up at him, then shrugged.

“Do what you want,” he offered dismissively. “I’m not going in there.”

Traejan reached past him, grabbed a coil of rope.

“You’d better be out here when I get back.”

Minutes later, he was standing before a gaping, dark mouth, the broken remains of a window array. Shining a light revealed the frozen wreckage within. Traejan readied himself, shifted the pack on his back.

“Having second thoughts?” Kyso’s voice was sharp in the cold air. Traejan turned to see him walking up from the sled.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” he challenged.

Kyso smiled.

“Oh, I’m not,” he confirmed. “But you are going to need someone to guide you down.”

Traejan couldn’t help smiling back.

“Think you can still do it?”

Kyso let him hang for a moment.

“As long as I can run a line out here for heat.” He smiled briefly, then turned serious. “I want you coming out of there.”

Traejan looked into the darkness. He wanted to come back too. With something – anything.

“Get your stuff,” he told Kyso. “I’m not going to stand out here in the cold waiting for you.”

Kyso barked a laugh.

“Giving all the orders now, huh?” He pointed past Traejan. “Why don’t you clear some of the debris in there? I’m not going to work out here in the wind.”