The robot pivoted from the waist up, pointing a huge 9-50 at Chance previously hidden by its huge front mass.

Chance’s eyes grew big when he saw the gun. He dove, rolling as the giant weapon boomed, narrowly missing him and leaving a hole in the floor.

He jumped to his feet and ran in a zigzag pattern toward the door, avoiding another shot that punched a hole in the metal wall. The robot carefully aimed for the next shot, seemingly taking into account Chance’s erratic movements.

Rip did not hesitate to help out. He held the enhanced wrench in one hand and jumped on the machine’s back, which was easier to do from this side than the front. He immediately tackled the top two bolts on the panel, grunting and twisting as fast as he could. The enhanced wrench made a perfect grip, and it never slipped once.

The robot seemed confused by the sudden added weight on its back. It stopped shooting at Chance, let go of the big gun with one hand, and began swatting at its back while the first bolt clinked to the floor.

Rip grunted, taking some of the hits and adding their bruises to his long list of injuries. He quickly switched to the second bolt and it joined the other one on the floor.

Seconds later, the third bolt fell off and the panel swiveled open. Rip reached inside and pressed the off button, bringing all movement to a halt.

He climbed off the back of the now slumped-over robot with a sigh of relief.

“I really hope we don’t see too many more of those things.”

“I say,” Dr. Oggolopoli said. “I wonder if the circuitry in that one is any different than the last one?”

Bixby said, “There’s no time, Doctor. The door should open from this side. Let’s get ready to go through and make our way outside.”

He pulled out his map of the vault and unfolded it on the wall beside the door.

“We are here. We should go left in the corridor. Then, an exit that leads directly to the inner circle should be a few doors down. From there, we can signal Mr. Powell to come fetch us.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Blair said with a smile, cradling her submachine gun in an elbow.

She looked ready to use it, Rip thought.

Bixby folded up his map and reached over to the latch.

“Right. Be prepared, as always.”

He opened the door carefully, leaning out into the hallway and glancing both directions.

“Everything looks clear. Let us depart. Mr. Chance, in the lead with me. Lady Brooke, cover our exit. Doctor, Sergeant, please get in the middle.”

Once again, Rip found himself in a hallway of gunmetal gray walls and matching floors. If he had not spent all that time in the lift going up, he would never have known he was on a different level than the one on which he started. Everything looked remarkably similar, with nothing to differentiate things at first.

Carefully, the group headed down the hall. They soon came to a door with a sign painted on it: “Exitus.”

It was the first such sign Rip had seen, and a marked difference from Levels 12 and 13, where very few doors were marked at all.

“And us shall exit,” Chance said with an impish smile.

“Careful,” Bixby said. “Let me look first before we go charging through. We’re not certain what’s on the other side.”

He cracked the door and outside air wafted through.

Rip realized he had not yet been outside since waking up in the locker room on Level 12. The air drifting in seemed much colder, and humid.

Also he thought he tasted a bit of salt from the ocean.

“There is no one out here,” Bixby said, pushing the door wide open. “Let’s go. Everyone out.”

He waved for the others to go through. Chance went first, aiming his gun in all directions to make sure no one was hiding somewhere. But the space truly was empty.

Oggolopoli and Rip followed, then Blair. Finally Bixby himself came through, pushing the door shut gently so it would not make a slamming noise in the corridor.

Rip looked out at a huge open space, a vast metal courtyard with patches of snow covering old metal plates. He noticed gratings in a grid pattern, and he decided those must be for drainage. The floor where they stood angled slightly toward the nearest grate.

He also noticed several cowl vents, like those found on large ships for ventilation. They too were interspersed regularly through the giant circle in a grid pattern.

Everyone walked away from the door. Rip could see the other side in the distance, where another door just like this one stood directly opposite from their location. Still more doors dotted the outside at regular intervals, spaced equidistance all along the length of the giant metal circle.

It looked like a very long, circular Quonset hut, Rip decided.

He scratched his head, looking around.

“What is this place?”

Oggolopoli said, “Ah, you’ve never been to a steam vault before, have you? This is what one sees from the outside. It’s the tip of the iceberg, in a manner of speaking. The rest is all underneath the ground. We were far, far down below, Sergeant Coulter. Frankly, I’m glad to see daylight again. The robot did not seem interested in letting me walk out of there, even if I could have escaped my shackles.”

Rip looked up into the sky for the first time on this strange new world. Thick black clouds covered everything, limiting visibility. The sky seemed as ominous as the interior of the vaults.

“Do you think Mr. Powell will be able to see us in all that cloud cover?” Blair said.

“He’s up there,” Bixby said, confidently. “Fire the flare.”

She reached into her pack and retrieved a pistol. She aimed it up and squeezed the trigger, firing a flare with a loud pop.

It streaked high into the sky and into the low black clouds above, making them glow ominously.

Bixby said, “Let’s move further away from the wall to make it easier for extraction. Come along.”

Everyone walked to the center of the huge circular space, guns aimed in all directions.

“How long will we have to wait?” Oggolopoli asked, clutching the stolen circuitry to his chest with one hand while holding his briefcase with the other.

“Not long, Doctor. Mr. Powell should be up there waiting for us,” Bixby said. “We’ll fire another flair off if we have to.”

“You sound so confident.”

“We’ve used Mr. Powell’s services several times before. He has yet to let us down.”

“In more ways than one,” Chance added with his impish grin. “The man has the best private airship in Ethinium. We should be seeing it soon.”

The door directly opposite, on the far side of the circle, suddenly burst open.

Troopers swarmed out, broomhandle guns at the ready

Chance said, “We’ve got company!”

Two more doors on the other side opened abruptly, and more troopers streamed into the circle. They all wore gas masks, hoods and trench coats.

The dark brown trench coats and drab green masks looked sharper in the outdoor light, Rip thought, but they still seemed ominous.

Behind them, metal slammed against metal as more and more doors flew open on their side.

“In a circle! Doctor, get to the middle!”

Rip aimed his own broomhandle submachine gun at dozens of troopers. He took a position between Chance and Bixby, with Blair behind him.

The doctor stood with his mouth open as more and more troopers flooded into the open area.

“I don’t like the looks of this!” Chance said.

Blair growled, the sound coming from the back of her throat.

She said, “And somebody used up all of our dynamite!”