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shot the old miner a cold look. “And I’ll beat you senseless if that gets back to him.”
    He laughed and showed his palms. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m married.”
    Juliette nodded. “It’s best you all dig while I’m elsewhere. If I’m to be a distraction, then let me be a distraction.” They reached the end of a void that the backup generator would soon fill. It was so clever, this arrangement, keeping the delicate engine out where it would be used and serviced. The rest of the digger was just steel and grinding teeth, gears packed tight with grease.
    “These friends of yours,” Bobby said. “They’re worth all this?”
    “They are.” Juliette studied her old friend. “But this isn’t just for them. This is for us too.”
    Bobby chewed on his beard. “I don’t follow,” he said after a pause.
    “We need to prove this works,” she said. “This is only the beginning.”
    Bobby narrowed his eyes at her. “Well, if it ain’t the beginning of one thing,” he said, “I would hazard to say it spells the end of another.”

8
    Juliette paused outside Walker’s workshop and knocked before entering. She had heard tell of him being out and about during the uprising, but this was a cog whose teeth refused to align with anything in her head. As far as she was concerned, it was mere legend, a thing to be disbelieved because it hadn’t been seen with her own eyes – similar, she reckoned, to how her jaunt between silos didn’t compute for most people. A rumor. A myth. Who was this woman mechanic who claimed to have seen another land? Stories such as these were dismissed – unless legend took seed and sprouted religion.
    “Jules!” Walker peered up from his desk, one of his eyes the size of a tomato through his magnifiers. He pulled the lens away, and his eye shrank back to normal. “Good, good. So glad you’re here.” He waved her over. There was the smell of burning hair in the room, as if the old man had been leaning over his soldering work while careless of his long gray locks.
    “I just came to transmit something to Solo,” she said. “And to let you know I’ll be away for a few days.”
    “Oh?” Walker frowned. He slotted a few small tools into his leather apron and pressed his soldering iron into a wet sponge. The hiss reminded Juliette of a ill-tempered cat who used to live in the pump room, fussing at her from the darkness. “That Lukas fellow pulling you away?” Walker asked.
    Juliette was reminded that Walker was no friend to open spaces, but he was a friend to porters. And they were friendly with his coin.
    “That’s part of it,” she admitted. She pulled out a stool and sank against it, studied her hands, which were scraped and stained with grease. “The other part is that this digging business is going to take a while, and you know how I get when I sit still. I’ve got another project I’ve been thinking on. It’s going to be even less popular than this one here.”
    Walker studied her for a moment, glanced up at the ceiling, and then his eyes widened. Somehow, he knew precisely what she was planning. “You’re like a bowl of Courtnee’s chili,” he whispered. “Making trouble at both ends.”
    Juliette laughed, but also felt a twinge of disappointment that she was so transparent. So predictable.
    “I haven’t told Lukas yet,” she warned him. “Or Peter.”
    Walker scrunched up his face at the second name.
    “Billings,” she said. “The new sheriff.”
    “That’s right.” He unplugged his soldering iron and dabbed it against the sponge again. “I forget that ain’t your job no more.”
    It hardly ever was , she wanted to say.
    “I just want to tell Solo that we’re nearly underway with the digging. I need to make sure the floods are under control over there.” She gestured to his radio, which could do far more than broadcast up and down a single silo. Like the radio in the room beneath IT’s servers, this unit he had built was capable of