“Sure. I’ll bring him back. Let him go to bed, if that’s what he wants.”

Rector didn’t like being talked about as if he wasn’t there, but all he said was, “Later, Zeke. Give my regards to your momma.”

“You don’t mean it, so I won’t bother.”

“Suit yourself.”

On that note, Zeke turned back the way he’d come. Houjin unhooked a retracting metal gate and slid it aside. “After you,” he said.

Once Rector was on board, Huey joined him inside. He closed the gate again, pulled a lever, and together they swayed slightly as the lift jerked, then started its descent.

While they dropped—a bit too fast for Rector’s liking, but at least it wasn’t stairs—Houjin peeled his gas mask off and drew a deep breath. He let it out, then said, “You can take yours off, too, now. It used to be that you could go from the Vaults to the Station without wearing one, but we’ve had so many problems lately … it’s just not safe.”

“Nothing’s safe down here. That’s what it looks like to me.”

“Looks aren’t everything.”

“They’re something.”

Houjin closed his mouth and left his hand on the lever as he stuffed his mask into the back of his pants. Likewise, Rector removed his own. It came off his face with a sucking noise that made him want to retch.

He tossed his head back and forth and combed his fingers through his hair. It was wet with sweat where the straps had held the mask steady, and everything felt like it needed to be washed. That damn Blight gas made everything slick and dirty; there was no getting away from it.

He glanced at his hands and grimaced. They bled at the knuckles and along their backs where he’d rubbed them against his pants in a desperate and futile effort to relieve the itching.

“You think that nurse in the Vaults will have some cream for this?”

The lift stopped with a bump and a clatter. Houjin opened the gate and held it for Rector, who exited into a shockingly ornate corridor.

“Maybe.”

Long red runners followed the length of a marble-tiled hall, and gold brocade paper covered the walls in a fuzzy, lustrous pattern. Gas-lamp sconces hung in pairs, but they weren’t hooked up to gas. Even a technological know-nothing like Rector could see that they’d been refitted for electric lights, and these glass bulbs burned hot, sparking and fizzing almost like the candles or lanterns they’d been designed to replace.

“Wow. Get a gander at this place!” Rector exclaimed.

“I’ve seen it before.” Houjin closed the gate to the lift and started off down the hall to the right, but Rector didn’t follow him. Not immediately.

“Hey, what’s up with you, anyway?” he asked. “Why’d you get so quiet on me?”

“I’m thinking.”