Dark Omega

CHAPTER 41 - THE DRAGON'S LAIR

He had done it. He was inside. Three levels below the surface, within the warren of corridors, rooms, and access ways that made up the invisible underworld of the hospital complex. It had to be the lowest level since it connected to the drainage system. The rest of the layout Haides was much less sure of. The problem was the same as before: the Akakian's reliance on the Grid and their locks meant there were no physical signs or floor plans in sight. Why got to the trouble of putting up physical signs when everything had virtual tags? Why label something '2nd Floor' or 'Room 301' when that information—and much more—could easily be displayed inside the head of whoever needed to know?

Granted, the Grid had been down for years, so Haides had gotten used to getting around without artificial help, but this was a new setting: a vast complex with only the gods knew how many levels, buildings, corridors, and rooms. Despite this hindrance, Haides felt confident. He was inside the innermost security perimeter. Had the place been operational, it would have been swarming with staff and security guards. But the facility had been abandoned for a long time. Interior security measures would be at a minimum—if there were any at all. He could explore the place at his leisure, learn how everything connected. The place was so big it had to contain some treasures. Maybe not a dragon's hoard of gold and magic, but there was no way every single thing of value had been removed.

As the boy padded cautiously along dimly lit corridors, he tried to think ahead, to guess at what lay ahead, but quickly gave up. He didn't have the faintest clue what an abandoned Dragon Order fort might hold of traps—or treasures. He had to deal with stuff if or when it happened. The best thing he could do was take it easy. No alarms were blaring—no need to rush. Besides, this was by far the most exciting thing to happen since, well, since ever. It made Haides forget about Mother and Eli and Jan, Luca and the Colonel, Nik, his soaked clothes, and the bruises. The longer this escape from reality lasted, the better.

As he had suspected and hoped, there were no active security measures to be found. The old fort was entirely abandoned. The Dragon Order trusted the automated defenses to keep intruders out. Either they thought it impossible to get in—or they didn't really care if anybody did. That didn't mean Haides had free reign of the place. There were a lot of locked doors—too sturdy to break through—blocking his progress. In other places, corridors and doorways had been welded shut or otherwise permanently barred.

Haides didn't attempt to repeat the door-ripping feat. He'd pushed the memory away and refused to be reminded of it—the implications were too disturbing to dwell on. Instead, the boy roamed the sub-levels, getting a feel for the place, figuring out where he could go and not, searching for anything he could scavenge.

After a while, he found some canvas bags full of hospital uniforms. The clothes seemed fresh or close enough to it. Haides stripped and dressed in a mixture of plain whites and sterile greens. The women's 'extra small' sizes fit well enough—a massive improvement over the oversized wet mess he'd been wearing. One of the bags held pairs of disposable slippers, still wrapped. Haides tore open the waxed cellulose and pulled them on—they felt impossibly warm and welcoming. A soft, white bathrobe with a stained sleeve completed the outfit. Using a metal tray as a mirror, Haides concluded he looked like a cross between a surgeon and complete idiot—but a dry, warm, and content one.

He was reluctant to let the wools and boots go. Once he got back outside, he'd need them again. Walking the sleet-covered streets of Thira in slippers would end in frostbite and death. He ended up making an improvised sling bag from the oilskin jacket. He needed the satchel for all the loot he was going to find.

After dressing, Haides resumed the search for valuables. The place had been cleaned—more thoroughly than he'd expected—before it was closed down. Many of the rooms had been stripped bare, leaving no trace as to their original function. Other places were crammed full of hospital gear—beds and other furniture, strange-looking machines, and other paraphernalia—none of which a single person could reasonably lug around.