Contrary to the news reports, the structure of the HVC plant’s eastern wing was still somewhat intact; the walls and ceilings were blown out in numerous places, but the floors were stable enough for Cat and the other two lab technicians to make their way toward the epicenter of the explosion.  It was slow going as they tried to find sure footing in the rubble, but within an hour of their arrival on the scene they’d managed to locate the area where the chain reaction had started, a large, open chamber arrayed like a prison, with several levels of cell-lined catwalks around a wide, central courtyard.<br/><br/>“It doesn’t make sense,” Cat was saying, “this is all medical equipment.”<br/><br/>“When we built it, they set aside the east wing for animal testing.  Monkeys, rats, that kind of thing. “<br/><br/>“That’s my point, though.  If this wing was used for live tests, there weren’t any mixing units here to malfunction.  It had to have been something else.   Maybe a gas leak?”<br/><br/>“You’re not here to think about things above your pay grade, Ms. Rearden.  You’re here to look for salvageable lab equipment and test for the severity of site contamination, so why don’t you get out a pencil and a piece of paper and start an inventory.”<br/><br/><div align="center">****</div><br/>An hour later, Cat found herself in the sublevels of the east wing, moving door to door and compiling a list of what equipment still looked to be in serviceable condition.  The sublevels had a simple grid layout; each floor consisting of a square lined with rooms on either side of the halls, each room containing a table with adjustable restraints, a variety of surgical implements, and tubes and canisters filled with pharmaceuticals ready for testing.  She was surprised to find that the sublevel was in much better condition than the upper levels of the plant.  Here, the thick walls and reinforced ceiling had held against whatever had detonated above.<br/><br/>That was precisely what was troubling her, however; the same unspeakable carnage that could be observed in glimpses here and there throughout the rubble were present in the sublevels, but with little structural damage, Cat couldn’t understand what had happened to kill these people.  The bodies of several men and women were tangled together in the corner of one of the labs, some clinging to each other as if in terror – their bodies clearly had been crushed, but there was little to explain what it was that had crushed them.  Two members of the security team were still with her.  It would have been a comfort to her normally, except they too seemed on edge, their minds also alerted to the disconnect between what their eyes saw and what the corporation had already told them.<br/><br/>It went that way for what felt like hours; Cat moved from room to room and catalogued the equipment, most of which still seemed pristine.  At this point she was no longer surprised when she opened up one of the rooms and found an array of surgical implements, operating stations, and observation rooms.  She began to wonder whether she’d been sent to help with cleanup because of her background, or because her boss thought she’d keep her mouth shut about what she’d seen here.<br/><br/>By the time she reached the third sublevel of the complex, she’d fallen into routine; her mind wandered and she remembered the people she’d seen through the dust on the ride toward the plant, like ghosts moving through a fog.  She’d been able to hear the sharp cries of those who’d been caught up in the aftermath of the riots—men and women calling out for their loved ones, searching desperately for their loved ones.  The memories were so vivid that when she first heard the woman’s distant cries for help, she did not realize that they were real.<br/><br/>“Do you hear that?” Cat asked.<br/><br/>“Hear what?”<br/><br/>It was difficult to hear; construction teams had moved in above and the sublevels shook periodically as they dropped heavy loads of concrete rubble.   Cat motioned for both the security guards to remain silent, and waited.  The distant cry came again, this time more clearly; the sound was the unmistakable scream of a woman in extreme pain.<br/><br/>“I heard it,” said the smaller of the two security guards; her voice was quiet, feminine.<br/><br/>“Control, this is Sergeant Richter with Fire Team Echo.  Confirm, we are on sublevel three and we have signs of activity.   We are requesting permission to investigate and retrieve the survivor.”<br/><br/>Cat could hear the angry squawk over their comm:<em>Negative…bzzzhk.  We will dispatch a medical team…bzzzhk.   Survivors may be...bzzhk.  Consider armed and dangerous.</em><br/><br/>Cat broke in, “We can help her; I have medical training, if she’s hurt I can help stabilize her.”<br/><br/>“Control, the technician we’re escorting says she has some medical training.  We repeat, requesting permission to investigate and retrieve the survivor.”<br/><br/>Negative.  Return to sublevel two and secure the entrance.  Tell the technician to report for debriefing in the EW courtyard…bzzzhk.<br/><br/>“Ms. Rearden,” sergeant Richter began, “we’re going to have to get you out of here.  I don’t know what’s going on down here, and I don't intend to find out.”<br/><br/>“Mr. Richter,” she responded, “I’m going to find that woman and I’m going to help her.  You can come with me, or you can follow orders.  Waiting on someone else to get down here is not an option as far as I’m concerned, are we clear?”  She was surprised at how even her voice was when she spoke; she’d spent her whole life taking orders, and it felt strange to be giving them; it felt right, though, like this was finally an opportunity to make the world a little better, at least for one person.<br/><br/>Richter and the smaller guard stared at each other for a long moment before the smaller of the two guards gave a slight nod.  Richter muttered an oath under his breath and flipped off the safety on his assault rifle.<br/><br/>“Fine, fuck it.  I guess we all gotta do a good deed at least once in our lives, right?”<br/>