I frowned.
“Still nothing?”Wheels asked.
“Everything’s...right.”
“That’s bad?”
“It shouldn’t be.”
He laughed softly.“I’ve never heard somebody complain because measurements make sense.”
“They shouldn’t.”I tapped the paper with my pencil.“If there really is a hidden access point...”I looked around the room.“...the measurements should be lying.”
“They’re not.”
“Exactly.”
I walked slowly around the perimeter, and every few feet I stopped.Studied.Measured.Compared.
Nothing.
The support columns caught my attention next.There were eight of them.Square and painted years ago.The white paint had yellowed with age until it almost matched the concrete.
I walked to the first one and tapped it lightly with my knuckle.
Solid.
The second.Same sound.
Third.Fourth.Fifth.Every one echoed exactly the same.
I stopped beside the sixth and tapped.Thunk.
I blinked.That was different.I hit it again.Thunk.
Not hollow, just different.
“Wheels.”
He straightened immediately.“What?”
“Come here.”
He crossed the room in a few long strides.“What’d you find?”
“I don’t know yet.”I tapped another column.
Clack.
Then the sixth.
Thunk.
He looked at me.“I don’t hear it.”
I smiled.“You will.”
I walked him back and forth twice.“Listen.”
