The first oxygen candle made the lift worse.
Blue flame consumed the stale air before the chemical core began releasing oxygen. Smoke gathered under the ceiling. Three children coughed into the cook's damp cloth.
The former Annex patient with the breathing scar pinched out the flame with his bare fingers.
"Expired."
"We have five more," the cook said.
"Then we have five more bad ideas."
The lift speaker came alive.
```
ACCEPT CENTRAL CIVIC SHELTER DESTINATION
TO RESTORE VENTILATION AND PLATFORM MOTION.
```
A woman holding a sleeping child reached for the destination panel.
The former fold-return patient blocked it with her coat.
"My daughter needs air," the woman said.
"Then answer for your daughter. The panel wants all of us."
"All of us need air."
"All of us may not want the shelter."
The argument reached Rina through a maintenance microphone that worked only when someone struck the wall beside it.
Sefa took the line.
"What do you want from the lift right now?"
