Chapter 2 - Ruins of better days

"The sociologists could have a field day with this," Elan muses as he keeps a close eye on the Zeds. "Man in a state of nature and all that.

"Do they organize themselves? Does their society have any structure? Is there any inequality unique to civil society, such as differences in wealth, rank, or personal merit? Do they have any capacity to refrain from instinct? Do they possess a natural pity or compassion, an inherent repugnance to suffering?"

He studies the Zeds' behavior as best he can from a distance, while still walking toward the task at hand.

"The anarcho-primitivists would love this. They advocate for a return to non-civilized ways of life through deindustrialization, abolition of the division of labor or specialization, and abandonment of large-scale organization technologies. They believe the shift from hunter-gatherer to agricultural subsistence gave rise to coercion, social alienation and social stratification, and advocate for a return to the feral state through a process of 'rewilding'."

Elan falls silent and he ponders the philosophical questions rolling around in his head.

"When you're laying low after a score, you have a lot of free time on your hands," he explains.

Menacingly the government tower looms overhead. From up close one can see that it is surprisingly well intact, compared to the buildings around.
The large plaza in front is empty. Too empty. No rubble, no vegetation. Elan even notices some cameras on the tower and some pillars that are part of the plaza. Across the street from the plaza are smaller building some in ruins, others in better shape albeit not in great.
The large entrance of the government tower is open, the once existent glass front is no more, only in some of the corners are remains revealing its former presence.
Aside of the broken glass, the tower is not new, but far from as run down as the surroundings, as if someone or something tended to it. The small group of adventurers slowly approaches, hiding behind old broken vehicles and other debris.
Occasionally a drone can be seen going in or out of the tower, but it is unclear what business they are tending to.
Aside of the drones buzzing in and out of the tower, the scene is quiet.

"What's the plan?" Elan asks. "I'm not used to waltzing in the front door in broad daylight; I'm used to tiptoeing about in the middle of the night.

"I'm also not used to dealing with something as omniscient as an AI or VI. The human element is usually the weakest link of the chain, the most exploitable, but what if there is no human element?" He doesn't like the thought of that.

"I can frag the cameras and drones as we go," he offers. "It's a trail of destruction that will point right at us, but it might effectively blind anyone or anything trying to watch us."

"I don't know much about this AI, but generally, they have blind spots too. They're programmed to do specific things and aren't good at doing other stuff."

Taelor squats down trying to get comfortable. "Cerebrus was made to administer this city, right? Probably knows how to do that pretty well. He's used to being in a position of power. He's confident, convinced of his superiority. He doesn't consider us real threats. If he did, he'd be looking for us with those drones, not doing..."

She looks out across the plaza, staring at a drone lazily making its way to the entrance. She chuckles and shakes her head. "Anyway, as we've seen both times we fought him, he's not exactly a military genius. He didn't use cover, didn't try to flank us. He only increased his numbers and charged at us. I think we can outmaneuver him if it comes to it. Fake retreats leading into ambushes, using the terrain to our advantage. Shit like that."

"As for our approach... buildings like that usually have multiple entrances, fire exits... we don't have to waltz in through the front door."

moarhair wrote:

"I don't know much about this AI, but generally, they have blind spots too. They're programmed to do specific things and aren't good at doing other stuff."

"Definitely true", roples Graham, "but we don't know whether Cerebrus can alter its own programming. It's also had about 150 years to learn, and short of catastrophic failures, computer systems tend to have excellent memory. There may be a blind spot to exploit, but we should probably assume there isn't one until we actually see a blind spot in play. Maybe we can test for one."
Graham watches the drone traffic for a few moments, hoping to gain an insight in the drone behavior. There doesn't appear to be a search algorithm at work, as the drones are moving directly to their targets, not turning, not using the kind of lattice-work movement pattern that would indicate they're looking for something. That's not a guarantee of a blind spot, but Graham takes it as a good sign.
"Elan, you do your best work at night. We're within an hour or two of nightfall. How would you feel about finding secure camp, then doing a little scouting at nightfall? We can see if we can crack into any other systems in the government building since we're nearby."

"I do my best work at night because of the human element," Elan points out. "That's when there are fewer witnesses, and it's harder for those witnesses to see. There's nothing magical about night itself."

He exhales, clicking his tongue lightly as he studies the scene.

"Drones often work as well at night as during the day. We don't know if they have any circadian rhythms that they inherited from decades past, perhaps to align with the previous inhabitants, and frankly I don't really want to spend the time to find out. I'm all for gathering intel, but in this case we're too exposed while we do it. When it comes time to rest, I'd like it to be in the Tsunami so we only have one chokepoint to guard and not 360 degrees.

"Personally, I'd vote to press on. Let's go see if we can figure out what - or where - makes Cerebrus tick."

"Well, I agree with pressing on, but we also have to be patient. If we start the process this evening, we'll have to choose a place to camp in the middle of drone central, using all of our easy-for-drones-to-see lighting. Currently, we have an opportunity to find a place of our choosing, away from prying eyes/sensors. If you have no particular advantage at night, i say we hunker down, secure a place for the night, and start the day tomorrow right on top of our target."
Graham doesn't relish the thought of the sun going down, with no idea where to camp. Or worse still, getting to the end of the day and accidentally stirring up a hornet's nest with no place to retreat. Graham can't wait to get to Cerebrus, but he doesn't want to arrive with his proverbial pants down.

"We're here, we still have a few hours of light. I don't want to stop when we're so close. Unless..." Taelor wasn't sure how to continue tactfully. Graham was... not as young as the rest of them and he'd had a sedentary lifestyle before joining the crew. Maybe he needed a break.

They'd had a long day. Two gunfights, hours of walking, a close encounter with "zombies". She couldn't fault him if he needed to rest. Besides, she was still riding high on whatever Statton had given her. If she wasn't, she might have been ready to stop too.

On the other hand, she really wanted to fuck Cerebrus up. The sooner the better.

She looks him up and down. He was a bit sweaty (like the rest of them), but his breathing was steady. He didn't look exhausted, but he could have been putting on a brave face. "Um... Unless you need to stop?" She tries to sound matter-of-fact, but can't completely hide the concern from her voice. She hopes he doesn't feel slighted.

After having observed the scene for a few moments, Graham suddenly points over to to a lower, but much wider building behind the Tower. "We should go in through that building. Low and wide, close to the important building, likely extensive underground structures, that is likely the archives. They are usually close by, in order to be able to store and retrieve items quickly. Matter of fact, people used to store data in books and files and they needed to physically carry them back and forth.
Anyway, the short and direct cables make it easier to access the permanent, redundant storage fast and more importantly secure, since people would have to get into the building, to tap the wire.
There is likely an underground or maybe even above the ground connection to the Tower. "

Led by Elan, the group retreats backwards a little bit. An opening in the vegetation suggests a former street that leads in a fitting direction. In the shades of the trees it is starting to get gloomy, but the way is open enough and can easily br followed. The suspected archives were once surrounded by a wall, with a additional fortifications on top, but time gnawed on it and it obviously wasn't deemed important enough to be kept in shape. Large cracks run along the wall and moss grows on it in shaded areas. It takes only a bit of searching to find a large enough crack in it that allows a person to squeeze through.
Ahead lies a squad building, plain, functional, but sturdy. The windows are mostly broken, but the structure seems to be intact. Elan carefully scans the walls and corners, but no cameras seem to cover this area.
Despite that finding, the group rushes crouched over through the high grass to the closest window. Behind it is a larger room, with what seems to once have been tables with terminals lined up in a tidy order. But roots and moisture reduced the inside to a mere shadows of its former function.
On the far end of the room is a double winged door, half broken open, leading into a dark hallway.
On the outside, a bit to the side of the window is a metal ladder leading two stories up towards the low roof. It's rusty, but it looks like it is still functional.

"If we could disable Cerebrus and get back to the ship prior to nightfall, that would justify pushing the assault on Cerebrus tonight. But unless we can disable him quickly and return to the ship before nightfall, we gain nothing. No matter what we do, we have to spend tonight in the ruins. Knowing that, our top priority has to be finding safe haven for the night  Attacking Cerebrus now, and testing its defenses right before nightfall compromises that critical priority. We have little to gain by stirring up the hornet's nest, especially during the time of day when Cerebrus has a substantial advantage over us. Tactically, it's not a mistake I'm willing to make."
Graham seems aggravated, probably for over-explaining more than anything else.
"It's ok, I feel like we may have a way to hit Cerebrus first thing in the morning. In the meantime, need a room that's defensible with a way out. Tapping into its systems may alert Cerebrus to our location, and I won't do that until we have an exit. Fair enough?"

Taelor searches Graham's face with her eyes. Behind the annoyance, there was a steely determination. He wasn't going to budge.

She looks at Elan, who stands a few paces away. He looked relaxed, all things considered, carefully surveying the archive building with his piercing eyes.

Statton was standing next to him, looking around nervously. He could probably use a break to settle his nerves.

Taelor would still have preferred to push their advantage, as she'd never done well waiting around. She hadn't seen much action during her time in the militia, but the night before an op had always been nerve-wracking. Thankfully, it didn't look like Cerebrus was marshalling its forces to bolster its defenses, so she doubted the wait would negatively affect their tactical position.

She turns back to Graham and shrugs. "Alright, where to?"

"I don't agree," Elan says flatly.

"If we have to camp, it should be next to - or inside - the Tsunami, with someone guarding the hatch. I don't see any reason to camp in the ruins.

"I'm not ready to call it a day yet. We have a couple hours until sunset, maybe another hour until it's actually dark outside. That's plenty of time to explore. Plus, it looks dark inside. We might be dependent on glowbugs and low-light goggles no matter what time of day we go in."

He checks out the ladder, gives it a tug to see if it will bear his (modest) weight.

"I'm going to check out the roof," he announces, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "Maybe the elevation will give us some perspective."

Graham's agitation seems to ease a little with Taelor's question, and he looks to the ladder.
"Let's get a better vantage point, and get a sense of how the drone traffic is moving. If it's not moving in and out of the archive area, let's stop there and set up defense for the night. Also, archives -- and that means information."
He looks at Elan with a bit of skepticism, and with a slow shake of his head, he expresses some regret.
"There are two things I won't be doing before we go after Cerebrus. One is taking an extra two trips through Zombie Central, arousing more curiosity from the locals. Two is starting any attempts to hack into Cerebrus' systems this evening, alerting him to our presence in the government complex. It doesn't look like he knows we're here, not yet, anyway, and that's our advantage. Besides, the last time I suggested we stay on board Tsunami, somebody gave me the evil eye and a bunch of snark. Something about being welcome to stay on the ship, or back in my cubicle, or something."
He gives a little shrug, "My cubicle is probably still vacant, if you want it."
He gives Elan a wry grin, claps him on the shoulder. "Come on, let's see what we can see from up there" and gestures to the roof.

Taelor groans as the debate resumes between Elan and Graham. She watches them climb up the ladder and contemplates how tempting of a target they both make. Then it hits her: this is her punishment! She had the chance to leave this wretched planet and chose instead to stay. Maybe she had died on that shuttle and Astyoc was purgatory.

She starts to chuckle at the thought. Her shoulders start to shake and she doubles over, trying to contain the growing laughter.

"W-What is it? Is the p-pain back?" Statton asks, the worry heavy in his voice.

She looks up at him and shakes her head. She wipes a tear out of the corner of her eye and takes a few deep breaths, clamping down on the convulsions.

She straightens up, noticing that Elan and Graham have finished their climb and disappeared over the roof's ledge. She leans her head towards Statton conspiratorially. "How long do you think it would take us to hike back to town?"

The doc looks at her like she's lost her mind. She sighs. "Nevermind. After you," she says, gesturing to the ladder. Statton gives her a quizzical look and starts to climb.

Her back to the wall, she watches the crew's rear, then follows Statton up to the roof.

"Who said anything about hacking?" Elan asks.

"Don't you know the first rule of IT? If something's malfunctioning, you turn it off.

"Forever, if need be."

The ladder creaks and sways under the unexpected weight of its first occupants in a century, but it holds. The roof is flat with a small wall going once around it. There is some old machinery, likely climatization and the like, but it is defunct. Small flowers grow of the grills on the sides.
From up here it becomes clear, just how large the archives really are. They almost stretch all the way to the Tower, but there is no overground connection between the two buildings.
The activity in the entrance area is still as before. Like ants the drones drive in and out of the Tower but there is still not visible pattern in their movements. Some are transporting small containers.
Behind the Tower is a large bleak concrete parking lot. It's mostly empty, just the occasional drone is patrolling.

Tecumseh wrote:

"Who said anything about hacking?" Elan asks.

"Don't you know the first rule of IT? If something's malfunctioning, you turn it off.

"Forever, if need be."

Graham shrugs and says, "You might be familiar with the second rule of IT, then. 'Back shit up.' If we're lucky, the crazed AI knows nothing about the first and second rules of IT, because that plan depends on it." Graham smiles and gives his mustache a twist.
"To be fair, we might get that lucky. If the AI's original programming never addressed computer contingencies like what to do when the power was shut off, it's possible that this is Cerebrus' big blind spot we were hoping for. But my hunch is that a crazed AI would be paranoid enough to prepare for these things with redundancies. It's my most fervent hope that you're right. Check that, I have one other 'most fervent hope'. A successful hack into the system may tell us what Cerebrus did to zombify the population, and help us to undo it."

Elan rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Why are we thinking that Cerebrus zombified the population?" he asks. "I thought it was accepted that The Cloud is some kind of spore that get emitted from crevices during times of higher tectonic activity, which are then inhaled and interfere with brain functionality."

He gestures to Statton to back him up here.

"Cerebrus mentioned that it has 'rerevised the treatment' but at this point it's not clear what that is. It doesn't seem to be a cure or, if it is, it doesn't work."

Elan tries to get a sense of the coming weather.

"The roof isn't bad," he says. "Exposed to the elements, but at least it's not at ground level. The small wall around the perimeter provides some cover. The elevated vantage point is good for keeping watch."

"As long as we can't get stuck up here like a treed cat, this is good", says Graham, looking around for cover.
"I'm not sure what to think about the spores any more, Elan. Look at what was built here. If the spores were a regular thing, part of a normal tectonic process, this city shouldn't be here unless the people already knew how to manage the problem. They should have all been zombies long before this place was ever built. But we do know that Cerebrus coming online roughly coincided with the destruction of the population. Whether the process was natural or not, it's distinctly possible that Cerebrus' actions led to this. Not a guarantee, could have just been a failure on the part of Cerebrus' designers." He shrugs.
"I need a look in the archives while we have some light left. Who's interested?"
With that, he returns to the ladder and heads down.

"I'll c-come with," says Statton. He turns to look at Taelor and Elan inquisitively.

"Yeah... I'm going to pass on the moldy paper and keep watch up here instead. I hope I'm wrong and you find something good," Taelor says.

Statton nods and follows Graham down the ladder.

When they've slipped out of sight, Taelor gives Elan a sidelong glance. "Thanks," she says simply, hoping he catches her meaning.

Graham heads into the archives, unsure of what he'll find. Is anything intact? Are there books, manuals, terminals? He gives Statton a nod and says, "There are a few things I'm hoping to find here, such as any manuals on the government's computer equipment, passwords, installation notes, stuff like that. Also, information on the spores, and history showing when and how often they've had these events. And finally, ship stuff. There has to be data about ships here. But first, government computer system information. Maybe there's a catalog that will tell us where topics are located..."
Graham has some hope, but wonders whether the information stored here has withstood time and the elements.

Elan gives Taelor a quizzical look but doesn't ask her to explain. He and Taelor seem to be on the same wavelength more often than not, but in this case the answer is 'not'. But she's thanking him, not screaming at him, so that's good.

He takes his laser rifle and heads toward the archives with Graham and Statton. His intention is to set up a defensive perimeter while Graham and Statton get a sense of their surroundings. Elan is more concerned about security measures, including cameras, sensors, and drones. He's also trying to find power cables or data cables that might point in the direction of a central server.

Taelor's heart sinks as she sees Elan's confusion. He had no idea what she was talking about. Should she explain? she wonders, but Elan turns and walks away. The moment had passed. Alone on the roof, she finds a spot near the ventilation unit where she can have a good view of the approach to the archive and settles in.

She normally didn't seek solitude, having grown up in the crowded quarters of an underground mining colony, but this felt nice. Things had been getting tense and peace was finally restored. Still, she felt the embers of resentment smoldering in her gut. Elan and Graham were both opinionated and Statton had been content to sit on the sidelines. Taelor should have been the swing vote, but both times she'd taken sides, she'd been ignored. Graham had dug his heels. Elan had relented, but he'd come at the decision by himself. Once this whole Cerebrus business was dealt with, they would have to establish some sort of decision-making process.

That, or the others could stay on Astyoc.

She watches the drones come and go, trying to see identifying marks and get a sense of how many Cerebrus had at his beck and call. They would be going to war in the morning and knowing how big their numerical disadvantage would be might help.

The three men climb into the room with the rotten tables through one of the broken windows. The air inside feels damp and cool. With a bit of imagination this room could have been a reading room once. Towards the end the doors lead into a dark hallway. Right outside the door, in the hallway, is a terminal, it's former use probably to lookup where data could be found, before trying to retrieve it. Graham walks towards it with two large strides and tries to turn it on. A few long moments nothing happens, but then it seems to boot up. Graham and Statton give an muffled whoop and look at the each other in an excited way.

Elan leaves the nerd squad behind and slowly moves forward through the hallway. Without light it feels more like a tunnel, but his goggles make it easy to orient himself. The hallway continues straight, with rooms left and right, small, with a few desks with terminals or other table machinery. Nothing that points to any servers. It's silent in here. Somewhere water is dripping. Slowly moving forward, his shoes crunch over gravel that time chewed off the walls and ceiling. Something is bothering him, there is something. He just cannot put his finger on it yet.

The terminal is finally up. It's like the jackpot. A simple search screen with a building full of data behind it.
His hands trembling, Graham starts working. Looking up Cerebrus he finds a lot of information about the originally initiative. Cerebrus was going to be a central unit, based in the basements of the government tower and tasked to answer questions and requests of the citizens. The jewel of the system was its neural network that was designed to recognise patterns and connect data, essentially learning new things from the data it gathered. It was a big success, until there seemed to be something malfunctioning. More and more often Cerebrus would not answer any more and when he did, often gave condescending remarks.
Another headline catches Statton interest. There seemed to have been a fair amount of research done on the topic of nanites. Especially for medicinal use. But the article stays vague and no more information can be found on the topic.

Taelor sits on the roof, staring down in thoughts, following the drones down below. Mentally marking the drones she estimates maybe 20ish drones are driving around down there. A round trip roughly takes 20 minutes. There is something Zen about the rhythm of the movement, almost beautiful.

Suddenly Elan realises. There is a gentle deep hum, that shouldn't be there. In any active building this would be normal background noise, but this building is supposed to be dead! The hum is very faint and it's impossible to locate its source or even a direction.

Graham continues his research towards the ships and tech. Obviously the spaceport is listed, it has plenty of hangars. But somewhere there is also a shipyard, however while Graham tries to locate it, a dialog opens on the screen.
"Boo, found you!" , it simply writes, with no possibility to close it.

Graham grabs his compad immediately, and taps a message: Cerebrus knows we're here -- up to the roof to pick off the first wave?
"Son of a bitch, I really hate this guy."

The gentle hum doesn't surprise Elan that much. It makes a certain amount of sense, given the drone activity: there must be some level of support to keep things operational after a century. There will be generators somewhere. What kind? That's hard to say.

Solar? Often vulnerable to storms. Possible, but unlikely after all this time.

Nuclear? Not impossible, but even these require fuel. Either fissile material or a steady volume of hydrogen or hydrogen isotopes for fusion. Abundant, but still needs to come from somewhere. Maybe Cerebrus can arrange for that.

Geothermal? Ah, that's a possibility, especially given the tectonic activity that periodically releases spores. Plus the turbines and generators could explain the low-frequency humming.

In the distance, he hears Statton give a muffled cry/groan. Then his compad buzzes with a message from Graham. He turns around to rejoin the others.

"I never assumed we'd stay unnoticed forever," he says, seeming to mean, It's okay, this was expected.

Back in the reading room he tries to barricade the door with a table or a desk. He wants there to be another retreat in case the roof isn't as defensible as it looks.

The buzzing of Taelor's dataslab draws her attention away from the drones' hypnotic dance. There was something entrancing to their orderly patterns and she feels annoyed when the spell breaks. She pulls out the device and sits up straight when she reads Graham's message.

//Roger. I'll cover your climb// she message back.

She grabs Mr. B from where she'd propped it up and scans the plaza, looking for the drones' inevitable advance.

Graham and Statton take a step back from the terminal, looking incredulously for a second, then turn around and quickly walk off towards the roof.

With grim determination Taelor readies her rifle and scans the wall around the complex for movement.
The dance of the drones had stopped almost at the same time as Graham's message reached her pad. As if sucked up by the tower, the drones all withdrew inside and ominous silence returned to the plaza.
Graham and Statton climb the ladder undisturbed, the wall and the yard remain calm.

Elan takes long strides back. Before entering the reading room however, he notices something in the corner of his eyes. He comes to a skitting halt and walks back. On the outside of the door to the reading room he sees a floor plan. He quickly snaps photos of it and continues into the reading room.

Following an instinct Elan stops in the reading room and looks around for something to barricade the door with.
The rotten tables are worthless - too light and full of holes. But his eyes fall on a shelf next to the door. It's in decent shape and mostly made of metal, making it sufficiently heavy and it's not full of holes.
Elan leans on the shelf, trying to push it in front of the door, but it doesn't budge. He tries again, pushing with all his strength and it slides a few centimeters into the desired direction. This will be a great block for any followers, if he can only get it into place. Concentrating once more and summoning all his strength, he pushes the shelf and it slowly grinds into position. About 20 cm before closing the door completely it gets stuck and won't move anymore. But for the drones that the group encountered so far it should suffice, not like they can hold their breath and squeeze through.
Looking once more onto his work with a satisfied smile, he turns around and follows the rest of the group on the roof.

Elan climbs to the roof. He shares what he found with Graham so that he can study it with his cubicle brain.

Then he goes on watch with Taelor.

"It's possible that Cerebrus doesn't come straight at us," he suggests to her. "Cerebrus might think that a siege is order, reasoning that time is on its side instead of ours. Cerebrus might believe that we can be whittled down via hunger and paranoia."

He glances at Statton and Graham. Cerebrus might not be wrong.

"The good news is that I have an unlimited supply of ammo in my head and I can snipe pretty well. If we see anything coming, I can get off a good number of shots while it closes the distance. That should buy us enough time to retreat if necessary."

"It's a small bit of conjecture, but Cerebrus may only know how to play a defensive game. It probably has no programming for attacking threats, only protecting assets. So, it may simply stack obstacles in our path, and we'll have to pick them off. It's very efficient -- it puts all the obstacles in the place where it knows we need to go."
Graham pauses, thinking. He scratches at the scruff growing on his chin.
"One of you may have mentioned it already, Taelor or Elan, I think, but we may need to travel through ductwork or over ceiling panels to follow network cables. They'll come together at the server room."
He scratches his chin again.
"From what we've seen, do the drones try to fire through solid objects? They may not be able to target us through ceiling panels -- if they can't isolate a human-shaped target, they may not burn through their ammo. Efficient."

"Well, all the drones retreated inside the tower at about the same time I got Graham's message, so it does look like Cerebrus is castling up."

She sighs. A frontal assault would probably be suicide and they didn't know the terrain. Cerebrus had every advantage. "Fucking piece of shit AI bitch," she mutters under her breath.

She scans the plaza and the tower, looking for possible entry points. "We need a way to sneak in. If Graham's right, the ducts might work. Otherwise, sewers, maybe? What do you think, Elan? You're the expert."

Elan studies the situation from the roof.

"Depends on the job," he says in response to Taelor. "My preference is to hide in plain sight and act like you belong. That doesn't work in this scenario, so we'll have to be more covert. The nice thing about ducts and sewers - the utilities approach - is that they usually have maintenance droids but not always dedicated security bots.

"On that note, not every drone is going to be a threat," he points out. "Sure, maybe they can bang into our ankles, and we don't want that, but not all of them will be armed.

"In fact, I'm guessing that the drones we've encountered were never front line forces. They were most likely meant to supplement human security, either to distract or to flank, or to patrol and alert. Cerebrus noted that good help was hard to find. Those eggbots might be the best it has to offer.

"Cerebrus has a lot of real estate to defend. That means the bots could be spread thinly. All that could work in our favor. Its default plan might be to patrol and then swarm to intruders. If so, we can use that to our advantage, either by staging distractions to trigger a response or via guerilla tactics, hitting hard and moving fast."

He taps his compad.

"Let's study these floor plans for a minute to get a sense of what is where." He looks up at Graham. "Once we have a sense of where we need to go, we can formulate a plan about how to get from Point A to Point B and then back again."

"I'll admit, sewers wouldn't be my preference", Graham grins, "and Senn really won't like it when we get back on the ship. Another item in favor of movement over the ceilings, network cables give us a roadmap to the server room that sewers don't."
He looks around, in case any drones are about to spoil their rooftop party.
"I'm sure you're right, we're bound to run into maintenance bots. Chances are good that those bots won't report any obstacles they run into, unless they prevent the bot from doing its job. They probably can't even recognize a human, so if we can just stay out of their way, we should be fine."
He looks around at his companions, hoping they choose ceilings rather than slugs. He prods a bit.
"Is anybody up for hitting the spaces above the ceiling? It's slower, but gives Cerebrus a bit less target practice."

The floor plan shows the two overground floors that are visible from the outside and the underground floors. The ground floor is indeed a reading room and a foyer towards the main entrance plus some small administrative offices, likely where Elan walked before Cerebrus' contact.
The first floor consists of research cubicles.
Underground there are three more floors. The first seems to be filled with offices that are equipped for reconstruction and preservation of archived materials. The second underground floor is filled with the actual archives.
The final floor is maintenance and support, dehumidifiers, air conditioning, backup generators and the like.

Upon closer inspection Graham notices a tunnel between the first underground floor to the government tower.

Graham peruses the map with Elan, hoping something might stand out as helpful.
"What's this?" he says, pointing at what looks like a connector.
"Cerebrus may only consider passages intended for travel, like where his security drones are moving. He'll guard those entrances, most likely. But this is different, he may ignore it altogether. It may also be where we find the network cabling running form here to the tower."
With an absent-minded twist of his mustache, he blurts out "Or we can go to the bottom level, get into the ductwork, and see where it takes us. But at some point, we want to get a look at the archives. It will be worth our time, I think, after we're done with bits-for-brains."

Taelor keeps her eyes on the plaza while the others look at the map. As they share their thoughts, she thinks about Graham's idea of crawling in the ceiling. She remembers Duck in basic trying to show off by doing pullups from a suspended ceiling tee. The whole thing had come crashing down on him, showering the unit in dust and whatever crap the tiles were made of.

"The underground passage sounds good. I'm not sure about the ceiling though. Depends what it's made of. Those things generally aren't made to support the weight of a person, especially with all the gear we're travelling around with."

"Besides, I'd rather be on my feet in case things go south and we need to move fast."

Once again the group climbs down the shaky ladder one by one into the yard. They enter the archives through one of the broken windows into the old damp reading room.
Everything is still silent. Graham, having studied the floor plan the closest, leads the group through the reading room into the hallway leading to the foyer.

The foyer is a larger room. A hundred years ago, this room had a glass door front, a reception desk and a large flower in the centre. Now the glass doors are broken and the reception desk is grown over with moss, being held together only by a tendril of a plant growing out of the floor. The large flower in the middle of the room, once the defining element, broke out of its huge pot, soil spilling on the floor and is now growing in an angle and wildly out of shape.
Towards the corner of the foyer are the stairs to the lower levels, clearly an area that is not meant for the public. Some kind of detectors flank the entrance and a desk next to it suggests security supervising the comings and goings.
The stairs are still in decent shape and lead down into the dark. Armed with glow bugs and lowlight goggles the group descents into the unknown. It's silent down there, except for water dripping in the distance.
At the foot of the stairs hallways continue in three directions. Graham takes another quick look at the plan, compares the direction of the stairs and decides for one of the hallways. This hallway should continue all the way into the Tower.
Slowly and steady the group makes it's way forward and indeed, after some 50m the hallway ends in a metal door with a skew sign "Government property, access prohibited".
The door is unlocked.

Graham stops at the door, and presses his ear to it, listening for the faint vibrations of drone wheels on a hard floor. After listening a few seconds, he scans around the edge of the door, looking for wires that might trip a circuit when the door opens.
He looks faintly amused, then mutters, "What am I thinking...it's a government building, the 'access prohibited' sign probably IS the security system..."
In any case, he steps away from the door and draws his laser pistol.
"If we can help it, let's not shoot anything. The moment we do, we tell Cerebrus where we are."

"I'm going to be honest: I don't like tunnels," Elan admits.

"Tunnels mean fewer avenues of escape. They mean forward and backward but no side-to-side. They limit options, create chokepoints, and make it that much easier to surround you. There usually isn't any cover or places to hide. Tunnels are like putting your head in a noose and hoping the hangman doesn't notice your neck is in there."

Elan makes sure his low-light goggles are in place. He has his laser rifle at the ready as he begins to advance down the tunnel, scouting things out in advance of the rest of the team. He tries to keep his eys (goggles) open for possible sensors.

Elan slowly walks into the dark tunnel. The air feels damp on the skin, discolourations and fungus on the wall confirm the high humidity. The hallway is very dark, Elan can barely see anything despite the goggles. But while he can still see enough to walk a straight line, he decides to keep the other light sources turned off.
The tunnel was once a proper hallway. Linoleum like flooring, wallpaper on the walls and suspended ceilings with ventilation. One would not realise leaving one building and entering another. But the hallway was out of use for a long time and moisture turned into the tunnel it is now.
In one area the ceiling came down and exposed cables and tubes going from building to building.
After a couple of long minutes Elan approaches another door. A scanner on the left side of it glims faintly in the dark, forever waiting to scan whatever it scans and decide over who may or may not pass the door.
The metal door is closed.

Elan debates about whether he should tackle the door scanner on his own or wait for the others.

On one hand, he'd like backup. On the other hand, he can beat a hasty retreat faster than the others can if things go sideways.

In the end, he opts to be transparent and let the others make their own decisions. He gets out his compad and types a message that he hopes will make it down the tunnel.

<<Made it to the end of the tunnel to a metal door. It has an active scanner that I think I can defeat. If not, the laser rifle should be able to.>>

<<Please confirm transmission. I'll wait for you if you want, or I can punch through and see if it's safe.>>

Graham checks his compad with a grimace, and taps a quick message: "No scanner yet", and sends. He clarifies in a second message: "Using the scanner tells Cerebrus where we are. May be worth going up and over the door, even if it's awkward. We're on the way."
Graham looks at Taelor and Statton, nods toward the door, and heads through. Conscious of his own footsteps, he tries to keep a quick pace without making a lot of noise.

Taelor watches Elan disappear into the darkness. She listens for the tiny scrapes of shoes on gravel, the sharp exhale of effort to get over an obstacle, the metal clicks of his bag's buckles, but she hears none. It's like he's gone. How does he do that?

She is startled when her dataslab vibrates in chorus with Graham's and Statton's, and realizes she'd been holding her breath. She lets it out slowly and silently before reaching for her communication device. Graham has already answered by the time she reads the exchange.

She nods back at Graham before he goes and lets Statton go ahead of her, bringing up the rear. Though the trio tries to be quiet like Elan, they progress is much easier to follow. All those little noises she had expected to pick up when the scout had gone in were present now, and multiplied by three. She cringes the few times she ends up responsible for troubling the silence of the hallway, expecting drones to roll out of hidden alcoves or Cerebrus' grating voice to blare out of hidden speakers to mock them.

Finally, the group joins Elan near the sealed metal door. Taelor breathes a sigh of relief, then moves closer to take a look at the scanner. Maybe I can remove its casing and rewire it to get the door open, she thinks to herself.

Graham looks at the scanner dubiously.
"It may be helpful to consider Cerebrus as a system rather than an entity. All electronics in the government area are like nerve endings in Cerebrus' body. Anything we do with the scanner will probably alert Cerebrus with our specific location, and right now, our only advantage is that Cerebrus doesn't know exactly where we are. Do we have options? Up and over the door, maybe? We do have climbing equipment, and that may be helpful. We don't have to rely on these drop ceilings for support."

Taelor pauses. Graham had looked away when he started talking, so he did not see her unscrew the scanner casing. By the time his words click, she's already undone a few wires and made a handful of new connections. A feeling of dread and guilt washes over her.

She turns towards him. "Uh... Oops?" she says. With perfect timing, the circuit behind her gives off a few sparks as it short-circuits.

"Hmph", Graham grunts, and his eyes widen as he realizes how efficient Taelor truly is.
"I guess we'd better move. Fast might be better than slow."
Graham opens the door a crack, and pokes his head through.
"Look both ways before crossing the street" goes through his head before popping into the hall beyond.

Taelor moves around wires and digs in the inners of the terminal. Its LEDs gently glow, as if nothing was happening. With quick efficiency Taelor disconnects wires and reconnects them in other places. Finally she holds the last wire in her fingers and stops for short. If she is right, the next connection should open the door quietly. If she is wrong it will likely open the door... loudly. She connects the wire, the door slides open with a sigh. For a few seconds Taelor holds her breath in dreadful expectation of the security alert, but it never comes.
Rubble rolls into the tunnel through the newly opened door. After the dust settles it becomes evident that the ceiling caved in in the now open hallway, having blocked the door before it opened for the first time in a century. Over the pile of debris the group climbs into the hallway in the Tower. It's lit up and in decent shape, except for the ceiling. Above the team another hallway is visible that looks the same as the one ahead.
At the end of the hallway ahead a staircase opens, with stairs going up and down. On the hallway there are several doors on both sides.
The buzzing of drones is audible, but faint.