Five Minutes

"Five minutes remaining to reach minimum safe distance," the bland, androgynous voice announced in the same measured tones it used for all base-wide notifications.

They really should've made it a little enthusiastic about the end of the world, David thought to himself as he watched the video monitors. No, not enthusiastic, but at least like something more important was happening than a meeting of the social committee in the cafeteria in blue wing at seven.

Someone had probably even suggested that, might have even gotten as far as a trial implementation, but they the board would've reviewed it, or it would have been focus grouped all to Kur and back, and eventually someone would've piped up about how if Rowan sounded alarmed it might induce panic in the base personnel. And that would've been that, back to the monotone for announcing a cataclysm.

"Four minutes, fifty seconds remaining to reach minimum safe distance," it updated him.

David pushed his chair back from the console, the wheels making the usual, annoying kwee-kwee sound as the bearings rotated around the shaft, carrying him across the security office floor. He reached the emergency panel and tore off the plastic tab, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as an alarm sounded. At least something around here gives a shit about what's going on.

He retrieved the heavy black flashlight, hefted it experimentally, then dropped it on the floor and removed a brilliant chrome cylinder that easily weighed fifty kilograms. He grunted against the mass as he carried it over to the main speaker in the security console. A few beads of sweat forming on his wrinkled brow, he stood over the speaker until Rowan began again.

"Four minute--"

CRASH

"Shut up, Rowan," he whispered as he watched the cylinder roll off the console, trailing bits of shattered speaker behind it, and smashed into the floor with a hollow bang. He could still hear the automated countdown being piped through the whole complex, but at least it was a distant sound now. It hadn't really bothered him until it reached the five minute mark when the designers had decided, for reasons which eluded David entirely, that it should start warning every ten seconds.

Gods damned nuisance is what that was.

Back at the monitors, David spared only the briefest glance at the dorms. Randash was still organizing the group in Blue 3, but they were far too late. Even if they could find a way out, David had already ensured the compound had been cut off. The outer gates had been sealed and the security fence engaged. He had never been clear on why the base had been constructed with nearly as much interest in keeping people in as out, but he was glad for it now.

"Daaaaaavid, why are you doing this?" Aaren's pouting, vaguely playful voice came from the direction of the security office door and in a flash David had produced his pistol. "Oh David, don't be like that," she purred, laughing softly as she strolled across the room toward him.

"How did you get in here?" he demanded, as his blood turned to ice in his veins. He willed himself to squeeze the trigger, to put her down before she could take another step, to put an end to this nightmare, but somehow his hands had stopped responding to such requests. He found himself fascinated as he watched her walking toward him, slow, elegant heel-to-toe, one foot precisely in front of the other, steps as if she were walking on a catwalk or a tightrope.

"You ask such silly questions, David." She was nearly within arm-reach now. Even in the shapeless blue jumper all of the Ravenwood maintenance staff wore he could still see the hints of her figure. He raised his gaze from her feet to her belly with an incredible effort. The barrel of the pistol was aimed almost exactly where he imagined her belly button was. "It's not too late, David," she had a way of working his name into nearly every sentence. Once he'd found it charming, now it filled him with terror. "We can still finish the work."

That did it. Somehow that tripped something in him and he smiled brightly up at her. "I'm about to finish it now," he murmured.

"David, what--?"

Her question was cut off by the report of the pistol. David felt a warm spray on his face but before he could even consider what it might be the world ended.

· · ·

At the way station three monitors winked out. A moment of silence passed, then an androgynous monotone informed the empty building that Ravenwood was no longer reporting. Another moment passed, followed by a second alert. "Final telemetry from Ravenwood indicates probable reactor breach. Please begin standard radiation treatment regimen."