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father’s management style. They’re expecting to get acquainted with you.”
    Everling shook his head. “No. I have more important work in the lab.” He looked back as he walked away from Bethany’s bed. He’d come back later and check. He might need another course of serum.
    For his whole life and then some, his family had led the self-sufficient colony of ten thousand inhabitants as it grew to encompass twenty miles of underground cities and natural resource reclamation operations. Robo-mining and laser-traction allowed the Mountain to run itself without human interference. He didn’t have the tenacity or the desire to oversee daily operations as his father had.
    As he left the hospital and stepped into the street, the antiseptic odor lingered in his nostrils, mixing with the outdoor ozone smell tinged with floral scents. It created a wild assault on his senses that he always hated. He adjusted his eyes tothe artificial sunlight as a MagLev train zipped through the clear tubular tunnel above the halo–tree line. He followed its silent trail through the cavernous space until it curved out of sight about a mile away and noted the far-off clouds meant an impending shower would soon wash the streets and freshen the air.
    He sighed. It must be Tuesday, or were the showers a Wednesday event? Weather patterns were one of the ordinary events he didn’t normally follow. But Bethany knew them all. She could practically tell time by the weather outside their living unit. And he was hard-pressed to tell time without her.
    Stemple followed close behind as Everling crossed the smooth, nonporous surface of the rocrete composite roadway to his laboratory sitting less than fifty yards from the hospital. He should have been there working. But his irrational fear was if he didn’t stay near Bethany, she would get substandard care.
    Together the men entered the main lobby and worked their way through myriad halls to the lab section. Stemple smacked the metal access button and waited for the wide glass partition door to slide into the ceiling.
    He turned to Everling. “I spent quite a bit of time trying to find you this morning.” He lifted Everling’s left arm and deactivated the mute setting on Everling’s ComTex. “You really need to stop turning this off.”
    Everling released a sigh. The need to be with his wife was something a single man couldn’t understand until his own world was being ripped from his grasp. The door lifted and they entered the lab.
    â€œDr. Everling, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but this oversight is unacceptable.”
    Everling and Stemple swung to face the voice.
    â€œNo, you’re not sorry or you wouldn’t have interrupted,” Everling said, venom in his tone. He peered over his antique glasses at the bane of his existence—Charles Ganston III.
    The portly man with a receding hairline barged through the doorway just as the glass partition closed.
    Everling considered him a throwback. Ganston purposefully wore historical clothing like three-piece suits and bow ties that were as ancient as his desire to proclaim he was the fourth generation of his family. He emerged as part of a growing faction making noises about the size of the Company and its one-man ruling body.
    Ganston slowed his charge but continued toward Everling. “Doctor, you have missed almost every meeting we’ve conducted since your father’s death. We would really like to hear your feelings—”
    â€œMy feelings on what?” Everling bristled. “Dismantling my father’s Company and creating a government to run the Mountain?” He pressed his lips together to avoid saying what he really wanted to. He and Ganston had been rivals since they were children in school. Nothing had changed. Ganston was still trying to take away his power as he had on Youth Council.
    â€œI’m sure you’re a man of reason. Just the fact you