The museum director seemed particularly stunned, but the military school superintendent was already busy, using hand signals to pass messages to his students still scattered along the building's walls.
"Got it, have you? Finally! Ladies and gentleman! Please stay seated! Right now is the MOST dangerous time of the entire performance! Please stay calm. Please stay in your seats! Remember! You are actually participants! You all have a job to do! Please keep your word to properly see this event ALL the way thru! You are an important part of the Safety Team! Prepare to receive your instructions!"
Whatever had been sparking and hissing over even shielded land lines had been at least temporarily locked down.
"Earlier you had all been asked to meet and greet your fellow audience members! To look into everyone's face nearby! The seats beside you! The row in front of you! The row behind you! Do that again! Stay seated, but check on the well being of every single person that you did before! Make sure they look back and recognize you! Smile! Laugh! Joke! Shout! Whatever it takes to make you feel certain that they are ok!"
The last of the utter shock that had filled the garden slowly began to melt away. It took a long time. The voice coming over the speakers seemed to be knowledgable and patient. He was careful allow the murmuring sound of the comfort of mere human interaction do most of the incredibly important work for him.
The elderly lady placed a well meaning hand upon Everett's shoulder, and after a startled flinch, he too came back to life and away from his single minded focus to help restore Carissa.
"If anyone looks unwell, or isn't acknowledging you? Touch them on their shoulders! Shake them gently! If you yourself feel you need immediate medical attention? Just raise your hand up into the air! Or tell someone to do that for you! If a person is completely unresponsive? Raise your hand up for them! Do it! Right now! Don't you dare to be too shy, self sacrificing, embarrassed, ashamed or uncertain to ask for help! We have enough medical personnel already suited up in safety gear to help everyone!"
Lynette looked Ellie directly in the face, after she finally dared to raise her head up off of Carissa's lap. Her arms had been locked tight around the left thigh and upper torso. The fingers of her hands had been in all too intimate places on top of the thin fabric. The poor dark haired girl blushed when she had to remove them, but no one else seemed to either notice or care where she had been touching her friend.
"There you go! Two more! No problem! Help is on the way! Please stay seated! We are still trying to lock down all of the special effect systems, and one of them is malfunctioning! Soon we will have blankets for the chilled! Even water or drinks, at least for those in the backs of all three sides of the stages! Please wait patiently! Two more! Over on the right! There! Is that it? Once you leave the seating area, you will be able to come back, but not right away! So, please don't worry about that! One more! Good!"
The gray heavy robes the medical personnel had on were made out of some oddly textured cloth. The oversized cowls and sleeves looked intentionally functional. As if they could some how shield the person inside electrically and from intense heat at the same time. The blankets that they wrapped around each person being helped out of the audience were even larger and thicker versions of the same fuzzy fabric, and completely covered every single bit of exposed skin or hair.
Some of the lengths of canvas hanging from the rooftops got pushed askew. The side doors that had been closed for so long began to open up, to let both the rescued and the rescuers inside the auxiliary buildings as fast as possible.
Suddenly the city lights returned. Whether it had been an accidental area wide event, or even just the local street lights being deliberately turned off? Lynette couldn't begin to figure out yet. But the relief spilling thru the audience was made even greater, as most of the golden strings of overhead lights began to slowly return to wonderful and warmly comforting life.
"I have some quick urgent questions for the three principals responsible of tonight's rather intense performance, then a rather confusing and strange message I am being forced to deliver. Will the three principals turn around and face the Exhibit Hall's second floor? Yes! I mean you three, on the front row!"
Lynette could see the look of confusion on most of the still very shell shocked people, on either side of the main aisle. The voice was doing it's best to keep everyone calm as the last of the evacuees got to safety.
"The Superintendent in charge of our military school helpers, the Museum Director, and the CEO of our main corporate sponsor! Please turn around! Yes, you three!"
It took Everett almost as long as the museum director to turn around in his chair. The group of three actually looked sheepish, as if they were schoolboys about to be dressed down and berated in front of their entire class.
"Superintendent, I wish to thank you for the tremendous and totally unexpected help you brought to us tonight. Your students have performed flawlessly, but I still have need of them. I'd like to borrow all of your excellent troops, for a few more tasks. If that is acceptable, and they would be willing to help... "
A single forceful preparatory yell came from the third floor, and then in perfect unison, every student from the prep school let out one single coordinated military shout affirmative. Sean proudly replied for them as well.
"... I think that they just gave you your answer... but yes... please proceed and include them in any of your preparations... "
Lynette smiled with most of the rest of the crowd at such youthful enthusiasm. A friend of her's in college had gone to Sean's school, before enlisting in the military as an officer. The seniors especially had a coveted, much looked forward to status at the academy. His last year had been both a harsh responsibility and a well remembered honor for him. The things some of his amazing and outlandish field trips had let him do! Merely jumping out of an airplane paled in comparison to most of her own fears about his senior year deeds.
Whatever needed doing to help end this amazing night in the best way, Drake had certainly brought the right people to add to the party.
"Director, I am sort of in the best place to see everything that is going on. You've been busy in either the Warehouse or the Garden for quite some time. I've sent for your two assistants. One will join me here, momentarily, and the other is making their way to the Exhibit Hall communication system. Do I have your permission, with their oversight, to reorganize the resources we already have in place? If they have any objections to what I think needs to be done, I promise that I will let them speak directly to you first. Well before I act. Can I proceed?"
Before Malcolm, still quite shaken, could respond an odd noisy burst of static came back thru the speakers.
"... bank number Four is at 20 percent... and is somehow still rising... were still in the green though... "
"I'm sitting right next to you! Of course I can see that! Don't interrupt! Director, can you please give me your answer? No! Just don't nod your head! I am not up here, but I can see you! Please say it out loud! For all of your people scattered through out the complex, not unfortunately spending their entire evening stuck in front of a bank of monitors and computer screens!"
Lynette felt some sympathy as the director's face flushed a little in embarrassment before he could get his next words out.
"... No... I mean... Yes... that's sounds wonderful... please go ahead... thank you... "
For someone who had given such an inspiring speech earlier, Malcolm's uncharacteristic verbal hesitancy only proved to everyone else that he too had been intensely drawn in by the amazing performance.
"Now, Mr. Chairman! I hope that you, too, will also agree to lending me your people for the next few hours or so? But first, I need your permission, or someone that's empowered to speak for your entire board of directors. Normally I wouldn't worry about such things, legally, but since I see an entire gaggle of excited engineers and university science students out there? Still looking to pick tonight's event apart for clues on how everything was done? Especially the ones sitting only about three rows behind you? Do I have your permission to openly discuss the shutdown of the equipment we sort of... ummm... borrowed from you this spring?"
Everett looked completely bewildered by the news and the request. Ellie, thankfully, stepped right in to quietly explain and cover for him.
"... sir... it was the special effects program the board cancelled on you during your last trip... the one Lowell somehow found buyers for... I think these are the people who took temporary possession of the first completed versions of the hardware components... to keep them safe from the board... who insisted on scrapping and recycling them... but you... I mean we... got to keep the intellectual rights to all the prototypes... I really do think that it's mostly our own equipment they have been using all night... just combined in ways the board or anyone else in our company just couldn't envision... they're very valuable... but I think that he just wants to turn them off... and he can't do that or coordinate it privately... since their radios got knocked out... I'm sure it will be fine... "
The obviously bitter memory, of that shortsighted legal maneuvering by his own board, came flooding back. Everett reached across the back of their well padded chairs, and patted the almost too sharp girl on her hand, before speaking loudly towards the Exhibit Hall.
"Yes, you have my permission! Please do whatever you need to, so we can all go home safely. The woman in charge of the communication system up there? She has my full confidence and appreciation, and can act as my personal deputy. But from this point forward, only I will be speaking for the Board, with absolutely NO exceptions! None at ALL!"
A few knowledgable murmurs of agreement were sprinkled in amongst the more numerous gasps of shock. Was the long standing civil war, inside the uniquely varied corporation, finally over? Lynette had only heard rumors of huge stock sell offs and purchases, and recently Alastair had been unusually quiet about the local business gossip they normally discussed during their weekly lunches.
The voice coming from the speakers seemed to pause, and a few muffled mumbles were all they could hear. Obviously a hand was being placed over a live mic.
"Ok. That brings me to the somewhat cryptic message I've been told that I have to deliver. I really don't know why I am doing it though!"
"... it's because he said that he would shove his fist down your throat... and rip out your lungs... if you didn't... that's why... "
The staticky second voice seemed equally pleased as concerned that such a thing might actually occur. Or was at least very interested in watching the uniquely violent attempt.
"Oh, just shut up! And before you can interrupt me again, bank number four is at 25 percent and green! I can see that just as well as you can, on my own monitors! Here it goes, and as promised, verbatim! - - - 'I always hated that outfit, and really enjoyed ruining it a little bit more each day this week, but nothing got rid of all those old bad memories like tossing it on the rubbish heap!' - - - "
Blank looks and confused mutterings swept thru the crowd... as everyone began looking around to see if someone found it meaningful... or dared admit to it having been directed at them personally.
"Just to make sure that I am fulfilling my end of the bargain, I'll repeat the message."
"... You're not fooling anyone ya' know... I think you believe that they could actually do that to you... you daft scaredy cat... but we could see if the rest of our crew is willing to start up a betting pool... what do ya' think... I'll split the winnings with you... fifty-fifty... oh by the way... bank number four flashed yellow, for just a second, and is now at forty percent... "
The suddenly exasperated tone of the calm speaker spoke of a long suffering burden, the kind Lynette personally knew that you only got when dealing with a perversely annoying family member for an entire lifetime. The hint of the strained Australian or New Zealand accent suddenly came thru even clearer.
"What? Fifty-fifty if he kills me? Or fifty-fifty if he doesn't? Either way, I'm not going to give him an excuse, so here I go again! - - - 'I always hated that outfit, and really enjoyed ruining it a little bit more each day this week, but nothing got rid of all those old bad memories like tossing it on the rubbish heap!' - - - There! Now keep off your mic! Please? We've still got people out there in harm's way!"
Lynette couldn't help but notice that Carissa had finally stopped shaking. The strong lean shoulders squared up a little, and the face looked upwards a bit. A soft odd sort of maniacal chuckle came out of her mouth. Slowly it began to get loud enough to be heard well beyond the front row, but it stopped just before anyone else was able to pin down exactly where it was coming from.
But Everett of course had immediately noticed it was their stricken coworker, still shuddering in his arms, just as the crackly voice yelled back into the microphone!
