The Forsaken

on the wall. I hadn’t noticed it before, because there are so many switches and buttons everywhere. “What?”
    “Look closer,” she mouths silently.
    I stop trying to crank the wheel. I slowly walk over and stare at the switch for a second, reading the words printed next to it:
    MANUAL OVERRIDE: FOR LS-8’S
AND SERVICE ELEVATOR FIVE
EMERGENCY USE ONLY
     
    In smaller type below is written the words:
    WARNING! WILL DISABLE C.L.A.R.A.
OPERATING SYSTEM.
    I raise my hand and curl my fingers into a fist as Gadya watches, nodding her approval. It’s time to put the voice to sleep and get to work saving our friends.
    “Do not touch that box!” Clara’s voice begins, rising into an angry whine. “Please! Stop. Do not—”
    Without thinking about it, I pull back my arm, smash the glass with my fist, and then yank the switch down as hard and fast as I can.

THE ARCHIVE
    THE SWITCH MAKES A loud snap, and my knuckles start oozing blood from the broken glass, through my gloves. I clutch my hand, trying to staunch the bleeding.
    I don’t know what I expected. Maybe lights to start flashing, or for a siren to go off. Or maybe for the observation deck to flood with nerve gas, as punishment for our transgressions. But nothing happens.
    “I think we killed it,” Gadya finally says.
    I pause, waiting to see if the voice will pipe up. There’s only silence. “Hey!” I call up at the ceiling, just to make sure. “You still there, Clara? You still gonna stop us?”
    No response.
    I walk back over to the door. “Think it’ll open now?” I start pulling on the wheel again with Gadya. This time it begins to turn.
    It takes both our strength to get the door open, but we manage it. Our frostbitten fingers are barely able to move. The wounds on my knuckles are deep, but because of the cold, I feel barely any pain. I guess that’s good, for now.
    We stare into the room beyond the door. It’s large. Well lit. There’s a row of what look like space suits hanging against one wall on hooks—four thin silver one-piece outfits that resemble empty sleeping bags.
    These must be the LS-8 zone suits.
    Next to them are huge bulbous helmets. On the other side of the room is the metal scaffolding of a freight elevator—no doubt one that descends into the abyss of the specimen archive.
    “We have to put the suits on and go down there,” I say. “And walk until we find Liam. Then figure out how to unthaw him. We’re gonna have to bring an extra zone suit to put him in, or he won’t make it back up here alive.” I know I’m probably deluded in my optimism, but the fact that Liam is still alive—at least for the next forty minutes or so—makes anything seem possible again.
    “Alenna?” I hear Gadya ask. I glance over at her, and see that there’s blood seeping out of her boot now. A piece of bone must have finally poked through the skin of her broken ankle. I don’t know how she has the strength to ignore that kind of pain. “Must be a compound fracture. I’ve been trying to walk around on it, making it worse. . . .” She’s swaying, unable to put any weight on it.
    I help her sit down, worried. She’s injured far worse than I thought. The cold is preventing us from feeling the true extent of our wounds.
    “You don’t have to come with me,” I tell her, although the thought of being alone down there terrifies me. “You can stay here. Cover me from the window and make sure everything’s okay.”
    “I want to go.” Gadya looks at me, eyes burning with pain and frustration. “I just don’t want my ankle to collapse down there and jeopardize it for everyone.”
    “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
    She nods grimly, leaning back against the wall. “I’ll keep a good lookout.”
    I want to stay and help her, but there’s no time. I need to get to Liam.
    I walk over to the nearest LS-8 suit and grab it off the wall. It’s surprisingly thin and loose; the material feels silky, even though it looks like aluminum foil. The suit’s sleeves end in large gloves. I glance at the helmets, which are the opposite of the suit—heavy and cumbersome, like diving helmets.
    I start stepping into one of the suits as Gadya watches me. “You’re not gonna win any beauty contests in that thing,” she cracks weakly.
    I hoist a helmet up. It’s painfully heavy. I take a deep breath and shut my eyes. Then I duck down, putting my head inside the claustrophobic dome.
    A second later, I’m staring at Gadya from behind