The Chimney Shaft was an iron tube, baking hot and full of soot. The air was thin and heavy with coal fumes. Stuck in the Iron Fortress's dark center, they climbed a ladder of pure misery.
The broken ventilation fan had blocked their escape, trapping the heat and humidity, forcing it upward.
Garth went first, moving like a man who knew failure meant hard labor for the Purists. He used the rungs inside the iron shaft, his breath loud in the tight space.
Veridian followed, clearly in pain, the cold from the tunnel replaced by the heat. She had to take care of Elara.
Elara was like dead weight. Her Anti-Abacus was running, but her main programming was still in a basic, post-sleep mode. She only climbed when pushed, moving stiffly, good only for going straight up, not showing any human awareness or caring about staying alive.
CLIMBING: NOT GOOD. ENERGY: LOW, Elara droned.
Just climb, Veridian snapped, shoving Elara's foot onto the next rung. Just get up.
**I. The Climb and What It Cost**
The Anti-Abacus' silence was gone, replaced by its annoying, computer-like criticism. The heat made things worse, turning the soot into a rough coating that made the rungs slippery.
Garth called down, his voice strained: Captain! The wall's getting thin! We're close to the top! But the smoke...I can't hardly breathe!
The air was turning poisonous. The soot and exhaust made a thick, suffocating cloud.
Veridian glanced at Elara. The blue light under her skin flickered, showing the Anti-Abacus was under stress. It was using energy to keep going, but the toxic air was hurting Elara's body.
Elara! The air's bad! What's the oxygen level?
AIR BAD: 99.9% CHANCE. BRAIN SHUTTING DOWN. NEED OXYGEN.
There isn't any! Just find a way out! Veridian pulled the Manifest from her pocket. It was the only thing in the shaft that wasn't hot.
Veridian shoved the Manifest into Elara's hand. Use it. Fix your system, now!
Elara's fingers closed around it. The Manifest didn't glow, but the blue lights on Elara's face got brighter.
MANIFEST: GOT IT. STEADY NOW. FINDING EXIT. Elara said, sounding stronger, the data feeding the computer.
Garth stopped climbing. Captain! Problem!
He pointed down. Through the crack in the service door, Veridian saw a faint light – a Sentinel's lamp.
They're on the stairs! Garth panted. They know the water's draining through the grate! They'll be here in two minutes!
Veridian looked up. The top of the chimney was fifty feet above – a narrow, shielded dome.
Garth! Push the crown open! Elara and I will cover you!
**II. The Purists' Revenge**
The Sentinels weren't rushing; they were climbing with hate. They knew their targets were stuck in a hot trap and that their crazy determination would beat any Syndicate panic.
A voice—not Silas's—yelled up the shaft: GIVE US THE DAEMON! THIS IS YOUR END!
Veridian reached into her pocket and pulled out the only weapon she had: a can of grease Garth had given her.
Elara! How slippery will grease be on hot iron?
GREASE GOOD. SLIPPERY: 98%. POTENTIALLY DEADLY.
Good. Veridian dumped the grease onto the rungs below, turning the ladder into a slippery slide.
Garth! Push!
Garth hammered at the shielded dome.
The first Sentinel showed up. He was huge, in black leather, his face hidden by an iron helmet. He held a pike.
He saw Veridian and Elara, covered in grease and soot, and raised the pike.
Veridian didn't wait. She grabbed a knife from her belt and threw it at the oil lamp.
TINK! The knife hit the lamp. Burning oil spilled onto the rungs.
The Sentinel screamed, oil catching on his gear. He slipped on the greasy rungs.
He slid down the shaft, hitting the rungs below. He slammed into the service door, blocking the way.
But the grease was working too well. The smoke caught fire, and the lower shaft went up in flames. The chimney was turning into a furnace.
FIRE! Veridian yelled at Garth. We have seconds! The heat will melt the iron! We'll be cooked!
**III. The Last Push**
Garth was going crazy. The dome was thick and warping from the heat. He was using an iron pipe as a lever.
It's welded shut! It's too thick!
Veridian shoved Elara against the wall, making her use the Manifest.
Elara! New problem! Find the weakest point! Now!
Elara's eyes flared. The Anti-Abacus took the data – the sound of the metal, Garth's blows, the heat – and found the answer.
WEAK SPOT: WELD SEAM DELTA-4! FAILURE: 78%. NEED 450 JOULES.
Veridian yelled the location at Garth. Delta-4! Hit it now!
Garth swung the pipe.
KRAAAACK!
The weld broke. The dome jumped, making a gap between it and the shaft.
But the gap was too small, and the fire was rising.
It's not enough! Garth yelled, coughing. We're stuck!
**IV. The Needed Power**
Veridian looked at the gap. They needed more than strength; they needed energy.
She took the Manifest from Elara's hand.
She made Elara stand against the crack.
Elara! Last order! You're the wire! Send the energy into the metal!
Elara's eyes widened. WARNING: BAD IDEA! SYSTEM WILL BREAK!
That's the plan! Veridian grabbed the Manifest and slammed it into the crack beside Elara's shoulder.
WHUMP!
The Manifest released its energy. The metal tore open, making a hole big enough to crawl through.
Elara screamed, a sound of computer overload. The shockwave slammed back into her.
Veridian shoved Elara through the hole.
Garth went next.
Veridian followed.
They were on the roof of the Iron Fortress – a flat, cold space with cannons pointing out to sea. The night air was a shock.
They were out of the shaft.
Elara fell, the blue light fading. The Anti-Abacus had been pushed too hard. The Manifest lay next to her.
Veridian grabbed Garth. Where's the ship?
Garth pointed. We're two hundred feet up, Captain. The ship comes at dawn – three hours. We're in the open.
An alarm began to sound. Commander Silas had survived the flood. The fortress knew they were outside.
Veridian looked at the horizon. Three hours. She had a broken operator, a bad position, and the Purists coming.
The prison was open, but the fight was just starting.