The windows closed themselves and the lights went out. He stood on the walk for a long time, staring at the dead embers. A smell of ozone reached his nostrils. He was aware of a blue halo about the dying generators.
He descended and crossed the work area to the ladder he had set against the wall.
Pressing his face against the glass and squinting for a long time he could make out the position of the hands.
"Nine thirty-five, and twenty-one seconds," Carlson read.
"Do you hear that?" he called out, shaking his fist at anything. "Ninety-three seconds! I made you live for ninety-three seconds!"
Then he covered his face against the darkness and was silent.
After a long while he descended the stairway, walked the belt, and moved through the long hallway and out of the Building. As he headed back toward the mountains he promised himself--again--that he would never return.