The word "kill" did the job it was supposed to do.

"She won't be moved."

"See that she isn't," the doctor said.

Adrian cracked open the door and peeked into the bedroom. Netta dozed sweetly in the bed. Long plastic lines of fluids connected to drip tubes that connected to bags of liquid that connected to machines. The complex spider's web surrounded Netta, delivering to her frail, failing body life-sustaining medicines. She and the machines were becoming one. He carefully closed the door, leaving her to sleep undisturbed.

"I will come back in two days to check on her again."

"Thank you," Adrian said, more than sincere. He had to hold back from grabbing the man into his arms and weeping. Dr. Thomas was very busy with all the sick and dying. To take the time to personally come out and care for his wife was well beyond the call of duty.

He escorted the doctor to the door and watched him put on his head covering. It was a large scarf that wrapped around, folding over a flap that went atop his nose and mouth, leaving a small space for the eyes. It was the fashion these days for keeping the dust off the face and skin.

"See you soon," Adrian said.

"Two days," Dr. Thomas' voice echoed distantly from inside his wrap.

The plastic covering of the first door released pressure with a hiss and closed with a swoomp. Adrian watched as Dr. Thomas bounded through the short vestibule to the outer door, holding his doctor's case in a bio-bag.

Adrian returned to his bedroom, inched the door open, and saw that Netta was awake and gesturing for him to come in.

"Hey baby, how ya feeling?" he said, as if to a small child.

"You tell me. What did the doctor say?" There was real fear behind her red-rimmed eyes. "How is the baby?"

"You and the baby are fine. You just have to keep still. That's all."

Adrian crawled through the lines of fluid and curled up in the bed beside her. With the tip of his index finger, he traced along her jawline, down her neck to where layers of dried skin scaled, flaked, and were peeling off. A single drop climbed out the edge of her eye to stream to her hairline.

"Shh," Adrian said, wiping away the tear. "It's gonna be all right."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Adrian leaned his head against hers and wished he were the woman lying in the bed. He held Netta in the quiet of the beeping machines. Time had no meaning then. They were all together, she and him and their unborn son.

"I had a dream last night," Adrian said.

"Yeah?" she said.

"It felt so real, like I was really there. I dreamt that my father was showing me how to fly and he had wings like an eagle." Adrian used his hand to show the swooping and sailing of flight, opening his fingers wide like feathers. "When I woke up I couldn't go back to sleep."

The door signal light flickered.

"That must be Sheila," Adrian said and untwisted himself from the cords and lines attached to his beloved and went to greet the nurse.

Sheila came through the vestibule with two men. Adrian waited as they resealed the plastic door covering and unraveled their various head and face wraps. Sheila's toothy grin brightened the room, and she stretched out her arms. The cat rubbed itself against her legs. She gently edged it away.

"It's cold outside today. Long time since it's been like this," she said. She took her things and the coats and wraps from the others and put them away in the closet. Her muffled voice murmured from inside, "I think I'll make you a nice stew for dinner."

"You don't have to do that," Adrian said.

"I want to," she said. "It'll be nice for a change. Now lemme go check on Netta while you talk with your people."

Sheila headed to the bedroom rubbing her arms as she went.

Kim patted Adrian on the shoulder and shook his hand, then gestured at the other man to guard the door.

"She's right. It is cold outside," Kim said. "What do you think that means about the air?"

"Don't know," Adrian said. "It could mean anything. But I don't think it means anything good."

The corners of Kim's mouth curled down.

"So how are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Adrian said, looking away.

"Are you moving down into the city?"

"The doctor still says I can't move Netta."

"Doesn't he understand the situation?"

"The situation doesn't matter. I'm not going anywhere until it's safe to move her."

"Okay, okay. I didn't mean to upset you."

Adrian nodded and wiped his face with the back of his arm. He took some moments to compose himself, and Kim gave him the space by looking away.

The clock ticked in the quiet. Finally, Kim handed Adrian a memory card. "These are the updated plans. All the changes you suggested have been implemented."

"Including the redirection of the lower ventilation shaft?"

"Yes."

Adrian inserted the memory card into his table computer and brought up the plans. The wide smooth glass of the table displayed the detailed line drawings of every inch of the city being built below ground. Adrian traced the lines with his finger, checking.

"This looks good," Adrian said. "I did a redesign of the second-level air pumps last night that should increase their efficiency another six percent." He pulled up his new design and laid it over the table. Kim leaned in to see what he had done.

"This just came to you in the night, huh?" Kim said.

"I had a dream and then this came to me," Adrian said, still staring at his plans. "It should work."

"Knowing you, it will more than just work," Kim replied. "A security detail is downstairs waiting for you."

"Expecting any trouble?"

"Word has gotten out about the city. Stragglers are showing up trying to get in. Nothing we can't handle."

"I want security here."

"Already done. Don't worry. She's safe," Kim said. "And I'm staying to make sure."

The closed bedroom door loomed large in the corner.

Adrian said, "All I do is worry."

A faint smell of burnt ash drifted on the wind. It itched at Adrian's skin. He removed his headwrap to readjust it to cover more of his face. Cold smoke rose out of his mouth as he rewrapped his head with the scarf. When he looked up he noticed a small gathering of men. They stood against a ragged skyline made hazy and faint by the mist. Some held large machine guns strapped over their shoulders. Others held them slack, pointing down. They all wore black headwraps and red bandanas that hid their faces. Adrian hadn't been expecting this show of force. One of the men pulled down his face wrap and approached him.

"Remember me?" he said.

Adrian considered him from a distance. There was something familiar about the mole over his left eyebrow and the shape of his chin.

"We didn't exactly run with the same crowd. But I remember you. You were one of those smart-ass kids, always playing chess and what not."

Slowly Adrian remembered his name and reputation. He was called Jolly. His smile with that underlying hint of menace told of the kind of humor he had. Even when they were little he was a developing gangbanger. Adrian had stayed far away from kids like him in the old neighborhood. What the hell was he doing here?

"Yeah, yeah. I can see you know me," Jolly smiled. "All that old stuff is water under the bridge now. Me and my crew got your back, man. You and your ol' lady upstairs." He held his gun like he knew what he was doing. "My daughter's in that city you're building."

Adrian looked over at the men holding the guns and wondered if these were the same knuckleheads who used to spend all their afternoons on the street corner back home, doing god knows what. Strangely, it did make Adrian feel better to know that they were the ones protecting him and his wife. They were all survivors here; everyone was under the same threat of annihilation. Like Jolly said, that old stuff was water under the bridge. Circumstances change everything.

They began their walk through the broken city. All was quiet but for the echoing sounds of their feet scraping against loose gravel and cracked pavement. The men walked behind, nervously scanning the areas around them and pointing their guns every which way. Adrian looked up at the tall building that was his home and sighed deep within his chest. The park where they were going was only a short distance away. That was one of the reasons why he and Netta had bought the condo. They'd had visions of walking with their someday-children to play on the grass on Saturday afternoons. They never envisioned this wasteland. Who could?

As they approached, he could feel the digging machines working in the distant part of the park. The pounding of the earth beneath their feet shook the few remaining trees. A crowd was lined up near the left gate. Men with guns stood by keeping order. Adrian knew that trouble was coming. The underground city was designed for only a certain number of people. Eventually folks would be turned away.

They went past the checkpoint into the center of the park and walked along a path that crossed over what used to be a baseball diamond. To their right a rustle of bushes and trees caused their guns to cock in unison.

"Hold up, hold up," Jolly said, and lifted his gun to his shoulder as an elk bounded off into the distance.

"What the hell is that doing here?" one of the men said.

"The zoo," Jolly said. "Some of the animals got loose when the construction started. They won't hurt anything."

The men went a little further down the path, over a walkbridge and down to a lower driveway to a well-hidden tunnel. Very few knew of this entrance. One of the men banged on the metal door three times, paused, then banged three more times. A catch released and the door opened. Hector, accompanied by more men, all with machine guns, greeted them.

"Hey, Adrian," Hector said and waved them inside. "Everyone is in the conference room already."

Down, down, down in the elevator open on one side, save for a waist-high gate. The smell of dirt and hot steel deepened as they descended. The gated door opened to loud construction. Where they stood would be black as pitch but for the radiance from bright spotlights shining further down in the construction pit. Adrian followed Hector through a construction safety corridor to a door restricted to official personnel only. Adrian pulled his identification card out of his pocket and swiped it through. His number appeared in red on the screen: one-seven-seven. They entered a hallway that became perfectly quiet once the large metal door shut behind them.

In the conference room ten people sat around a large table. Four men wore suits and ties. Two women sat extremely close, deep in conversation. One had red hair and freckles and was rifling through some papers. One was Stephen, a really good engineer. One had gray eyes and never had much to say. One was the head of the group, Dionne Maiter, a no-nonsense woman in steel-rimmed glasses. Adrian and Hector were the last to take their seats.

"Let's get started," Maiter said. "How is the construction coming?"

One of the suits answered, "We are approximately thirty-four percent behind schedule, and the lower levels are still incomplete."

Maiter said, "We can't afford to be this behind."

"It's a water problem," Stephen said and pushed his glasses back. "We're building beneath the water table and are still developing the pumping system. It's difficult for the crews to work on the city's construction while constantly battling the water."

"And we have a communication problem as well. The routers are blocked, and the crews can't work together when they can't talk to each other. Perhaps we should begin using the satellites again," Hector said.

"The satellites won't help us this far underground," Stephen said. "What we need is to make sure all the signal routers are in place, which they're not."

"Why aren't they?" Maiter asked.

"It's the pace of the construction. Every time we install the routers, the structures around them change."

"Maybe we can make mobile routing units," Adrian said. "It's foolish at this point to have them remain stationary."

Stephen nodded.

"As for the water problem, I've redesigned some of the pumping systems in my latest drafts of the construction plans to divert the groundwater into internal cisterns until it can properly be piped out to the river. It will help a little, but we can only do so much."

"Okay, then," Maiter said. "And, Stephen, I'll put you and your team in charge of developing the mobile router units."

Stephen nodded again.

"As for the satellites, I have to confess something," Adrian said. "I have been using them to communicate with my counterparts in other cities for months now."

"Why would you do something like that?" Maiter slapped the table. "The satellites may be monitored. They may find out about the underground cities."

"I doubt they care what we do," Adrian said. "They released the dust and haven't been back since."

"It doesn't mean they won't come back," Maiter said.

"They don't need to. They think we're done for."

Silence.

"Is that true?" Maiter asked.

"Maybe," Adrian answered.

The word "maybe" rang in the air like a tinkling cymbal.

"Eventually the dust will choke us all," Adrian said.

Stephen pushed back his glasses. "I think these aliens - these creatures who attacked us - knew exactly what they were doing. They've probably done this before to other unsuspecting planets like ours."