Chapter 4 – Lockdown

The backup generator hummed into existence, dim emergency lighting sputtering to life, illuminating the walkways in an orange glow reminiscent of the interior of a submarine. Students attempted to climb over their seats, casting hectic shadows onto the walls. Chaotic shouts and screams continued, although more subdued than before.

A few seconds later, the ceiling fans came back online, then the door signs, then finally the auditorium lights groaned back into operation, restoring the auditorium to full capacity. Power had been fully restored.

The hysteria in the auditorium that had quickly built up in that brief moment of madness began to subside with power returning, although most people still looked on edge.

William took shallow breaths, his heart still beating rapidly as he tried to make sense of what the hell just happened. The adrenaline from yesterday was back. He had instinctively grabbed the nearest object he could find to defend himself with, which turned out to be his water bottle, although now that the lights were back and his senses had returned he looked a bit silly wielding a flimsy plastic bottle like a bat.

Were they really safe?

His eyes darted to the metal sealing of the windows. Three layers of thick reinforced steel now stood between the inside of the auditorium and the outside world, their durable presence prompted by what appeared to be an automatic defense system. He hadn’t seen so much steel in an eternity, and of such high quality as well—wasn’t it in short supply lately? In the post-break era, steel was worth more than gold, as steel was sorely needed in the production of tanks, artillery shells, and other instruments of war. Such an amount must have cost a fortune. No monster could break or ram through that thickness of reinforced steel.

And yet, what was this uneasy feeling? His heart continued to beat uncomfortably fast.

“Students, stay calm,” the undisturbed dean said through the microphone, looking around the hall at the panicked students. “As you all know, Trinity Academy offers nothing but the best for our elite student body, and that includes emergency countermeasures. Our newly installed lockdown system is state-of-the-art, military grade, and is working as intended to keep us safe during these troubling times.”

“I personally negotiated and won the contract bid with Gammon Corporation—they are the best, as you know—and can assure you that they built us an impenetrable fortress, nothing but the finest. Trinity Academy educates the future leaders of our world, and you deserve every protection in this world. No monster or security threat will ever interfere with a student’s Trinity education!” he finished confidently, the pride palpable in his voice.

Cheers and applause broke out from the audience, particularly from the elites. In times like this, Trinity Academy’s massive endowment showed its colors. No wonder so many tycoons and moguls sent their children here. Few other private institutions could muster the sheer industrial-level scale and complexity of such a defensive structure. It was certainly reassuring, William thought.

Residing in an automated iron fortress during a monster outbreak sure beat hiding under the counter because Manager Kim barricaded him out of the office. Every time William thought of him a bit of hatred welled up inside.

“As we are in a state of emergency, we will follow our Emergency Protocol Guidelines. The document has been transferred to your portal inbox.”

A student’s hand called out from the front row. “Sir, we don’t seem to have phone signal.”

“Is that so? Then this break must be more serious than usual. Nevertheless, as long as we conduct ourselves in an orderly fashion, we will endure this crisis with dignity befitting our institution.”

An aide walked over and respectfully handed the dean some papers, which he set onto the podium.

“Ahem,” the dean cleared his throat, lifting a pair of reading glasses to his eyes as he squinted at the papers on the podium lectern. “The Emergency Protocol Guidelines are as follows—”

“In the event of a monster break within active distance of Trinity Academy, the university will lockdown for a maximum expected duration of a week. In the case of an unusual unresolved break, the lockdown will persist until disabled by a government issued clear or manual override.”

“The lockdown process seals all indoor school grounds from the outside. Students and faculty can move continuously from the west end to the east end of the facility uninhibited, but will not be able to leave the premises of the Trinity Academy until the lockdown is lifted.”

As the dean continued to outline the emergency procedures, a soft creaking sound, barely audible over his voice, drew William’s attention upward. His eyes scanned the ceiling fans, now spinning steadily, their mechanical hum blending into the background. But there it was again—a faint grinding sound.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered to Finn.

“Hear what?” Finn whispered back, his voice cracking slightly.

“Never mind.”

William had heard this sound before, coming from the rusty old fan in Kicken Chicken, its rotor mechanism ground down over the years. The mechanical wear and tear was especially evident every morning when he turned the fan back on.

“There is enough food, water, and electricity stored to last a full year at maximum capacity. The canteen will remain open during lockdown, with chefs operating the breakfast, lunch, and dinner buffets as usual, free of charge.”

William still hadn’t visited the school canteen yet. He mostly cooked his own meals or ate leftover sides from work to save money. He wondered what the canteen looked like.

“Classes will resume the day after lockdown is initiated. All students are expected to attend class as per usual. Students are expected to abide by reasonable standards of behavior during emergency times as determined by faculty at their discretion. This forbids the following: Disobedience, improper conduct, running in the halls, banging on or otherwise interfering with erected walls, and other such behaviors that may disrupt order or endanger students and faculty.

“Students without dorms will be provided sleeping bags in the gymnasium. To conserve energy, lecture halls will be unpowered and unheated at 8 PM. Students are encouraged to head to bed by 12 AM, although you are all adults here and should behave yourselves accordingly in line with our Academy’s discipline.”

The dean looked up from the papers, concluding his reading. “That sums up the main points of the Emergency Protocol Guidelines. If you have specific issues such as a medical emergency, seek out your primary subject professor for further guidance. All essential facilities such as the infirmary will remain open to attend to students and staff.”

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“Students will now report to their primary subject professor, who has standing authority to maintain order. Classes will resume tomorrow. Dismissed!”

The speech appeared to have a sobering effect on the student body which just a few minutes ago was on the verge of breaking down into chaos.

William found the dean’s speech inspiring and admirable, as well as mostly convincing. Through body language and tone alone, the dean appeared to have full confidence in the system.

Perhaps he was being too paranoid. William sighed, deep in thought, when Finn nudged him.

“We better get going,” Finn said, shaking his head. “Dude, this lockdown is going to suck. We don’t have any internet. What do they expect us to do, play cards for three days straight?”

Finn never changed, still worrying about his games during a monster outbreak. But somehow, his words nudged William towards the answer to a lingering curiosity.

“Hey, Finn,” William said as they searched for the personable Professor Millet, their history professor and primary subject professor. “Why do you think there’s no phone signal?”

Finn shrugged. “Don’t know. Why?”

“I think it’s due to an EMP effect.”

The missing words from that article he read a year and a half ago had resurfaced in his mind.

Scientists have speculated that an abnormal gate break could conduct a strong enough force to generate an electromagnetic pulse, otherwise known as an EMP, knocking out all active electronics in a radius from the activation zone.

In the event of an EMP, the government has constructed a mechanical failsafe. A low frequency foghorn similar to those used by vessels at sea can transmit the alert status with a single worker’s manual input.

William quickly explained what he read to Finn, who looked impressed.

“How do you remember all of that?”

He shrugged. “I have a good memory.” It was true, he did seem to have an uncannily good memory. Perhaps all those late nights in the orphanage library without any screens to distract him helped him to develop better concentration.

“You know,” Finn said. “It’s kind of crazy that the Gammon Corporation knew to build a backup generator and everything. My dad always complains how thorough they are whenever they order caulk from us. If our impurity ppm is more than 50 they reject it outright.”

“Sounds like they have high standards for materials?” William asked.

“Stupidly high standards, especially for some of the stuff that goes into expedition-ready equipment.”

“Everything they make is new?” William asked.

“For the most part, yeah. Made-to-order, that’s why they’re so expensive.”

“We’re in good hands, then?”

“Yep, definitely.”

The two of them quickly noticed that Professor Millet was nowhere to be found, and reluctantly joined in with a larger crowd surrounding the rather stern Professor Ghoulstein, who had a widow’s peak receding hairline, and noticeably large protruding lips. Bad rumors constantly circulated around him, although William hadn’t personally seen him before to confirm them. His skin complexion had an odd touch of gray, giving him an unhealthy look.

“Professor Millet is absent due to illness, so I have been placed in charge of his primary subject class,” said Professor Ghoulstein. “I hope that none of you have any objections.”

“As I was saying, this isn’t a vacation—in addition to attending classes, all of you are expected to fulfill your civic duties so that the university can remain operational. And yes, that includes cleaning duty, transport, hauling, the works.”

Several students moaned in protest.

“Do we really have to do manual labor?” asked Vanessa Lullaby in a rather bitchy tone, her arms crossed. Despite her demeanor, she was quite pretty and had a glamorous figure, her chrome blonde hair curling in waves ever so slightly above her large chest.

Needless to say, she was quite possibly one of the most stared at girls at Trinity Academy as well as a semi-famous online influencer, and her bikini photos had tens of thousands of likes on Yube—William preferred not to elaborate on how he knew that.

“Tone, Vanessa,” replied Professor Ghoulstein, his gaze darting between her eyes and her body, before lingering uncomfortably on her hips.

“There is a method to everything. As such, I will not allow complaints in these circumstances,” he continued, as Vanessa crossed her arms.

The faintest hint of discontent showed on Professor Ghoulstein’s face, his lips curling ever so slightly. “Very well,” he said, his voice low. “You and Abby can start with mopping the floor of the girl’s bathroom in the east wing. Mops are in the janitor’s closet by the water fountain. Make sure that it’s polished clean, and I mean after every use. I’m going to send someone to check when it’s done.”

“Fine. Let’s go, Abby,” Vanessa said, storming off with the shorter girl called Abby who William had a theoretical physics class with two semesters ago.

The greasy professor quickly dished out duties to everyone.

“You two, what are your names again?” Professor Ghoulstein said to him and Finn, before waving his hand. “It doesn’t matter. You will be in charge of hauling flour bags from stability storage to the cafeteria. You’ll find rollers in the janitorial closet in the east wing by the water fountain.”

“How many bags should we bring to the cafeteria?” William asked.

“As many as you can, and don’t ask any more useless questions,” Ghoulstein replied. “You’re on an eight hour shift until dinner.”

Finn looked a bit annoyed. They left the auditorium and headed into the east wing, or simply ‘east wing’ as people liked to call it.

“Why couldn’t they just automate all of this?” Finn said. “Is there really a reason we have to do all of this ourselves?”

“I think it’s partly to save power, and also partly because automation is way too expensive. Trinity has a big budget, but even military outposts don’t have automatic conveyor belts.”

“Eh, fine.”

“By the way, what do you think about Professor Ghoulstein?” asked William.

Finn looked back to check if the professor was there before replying. “He’s a little annoying ordering us around. Why do you ask?”

“I get a bad feeling from him.”

“At least we don’t have any classes with him,” replied Finn absentmindedly, as he arranged the offline apps on his phone into a folder.

They walked down the hallway in east wing, which looked incredibly strange with all of the windows sealed off in between the rows of artifacts and trophies displayed in cabinets lining the sides of the hallway. Most of Trinity Academy had to be renovated after being destroyed in the break twelve years ago, which was why the university had a strange aesthetic clash between thousand year old priceless artifacts from the volcanic era displayed in modern tin can furniture.

After quite the trek, they finally reached the large sanitation closet, the door left slightly open.

“Are the girls still in there?” Finn asked, his inquiry immediately answered by a yelp from inside.

William peeked in and saw a strained Vanessa trying her best to hoist Abby up as the smaller girl reached in vain for a second unused mop above the shelf.

“Finally, someone’s here. Hey, tall guy, can you get that mop for us?” Vanessa asked, pointing at the mop hanging above the shelf.