No Going Back Read Online Free PDF

to contain the situation on my own.
    I also had to unmask all the guests, so the security cameras would capture their faces clearly. The guests in the upper boxes would fall first, so I could deal with them without the others noticing me—as long as everyone down here stayed inside.
    I focused on slowing my breathing and watching everyone anywhere near the exit.
    The pedestal from the first auction was making its way around the room, the guard guiding it with his hand. Fortunately, these things were built for show, not speed; it was rolling so slowly the guard had to take baby steps to stay beside it.
    No one else moved toward the door.
    Lobo should now be able to reach the ships outside before anyone could escape, so at worst the winning bidder and the guard would have to contend with him outside. I lifted my tray and walked toward the kitchen. When I reached the entrance to the service hallway upstairs, I pushed through that door, ditched the tray and glasses, and ran up to the first level of boxes.
    My eyes itched the moment I opened the door on that level, so I retreated behind it, closed my eyes, and put on the goggles. I’d mistimed my approach. I waited for about ten seconds, frustrated at the error, until my eyes stopped hurting and I could see clearly.
    I burst through the stairwell door and turned left. A guard was crumpled on the floor outside the first box, his left leg twisted under him awkwardly. I stepped over him. The guests inside were unconscious, two in their chairs, and one with his head leaning on the front railing. I pulled back the leaner so no one below would notice him. I tilted their chairs back so each one’s face would be clearly visible to the security cameras. I tore off their masks.
    Seconds ticked away. I needed to finish up here and get down to the main level.
    I moved to the next booth.
    Empty.
    Two guards lay on the floor outside the booth after it. One was out, but one was still conscious, choking and rubbing his eyes. Either he was resistant to the gas, or he’d brought sinus filters. I pulled the pill strips from my pocket, peeled off a black one, and ran to the struggling guard.
    “Let me help you,” I said.
    He coughed. “Gas.”
    “I know,” I said. “This works.” I put the pill in his hand.
    He shoved it in his mouth and swallowed.
    A few seconds later, he stopped moving.
    He’d be out a little longer than the others.
    The two guests in the box were already unconscious. They had fallen and were facedown on the floor. I rolled them over and took off their masks. Good enough.
    The next two boxes on this level were empty.
    As I raced to the last box, I glanced over the railing. A few people were coughing.
    One guard lay on the ground outside that box. One guest was inside. The guest must have been standing when the gas hit him, because he had fallen backward, his legs crossed awkwardly under him. He was still breathing, so I ripped off his mask and left him there.
    I hadn’t seen anyone in any higher boxes, and I needed to get downstairs, so I ran along the hall to the service door, through it, and down to the main floor.
    Something clattered in the kitchen. I checked inside it. The air handling system must have been particularly strong there, perhaps to keep the cooking odors away from the rest of Privus, because only two people remained standing, and they were barely conscious. The staff and guards weren’t my targets, but I also couldn’t spare the time to help them, so I went back to the main open area.
    The pedestal with the first child was three meters from the exit door, holding its position, waiting for guidance from the guard who had fallen next to it.
    People were dropping all over the floor. I counted half a dozen of the guests, including the host, who were still standing but clearly unconscious. Their chins lolled onto their chests, but their exoskeletons refused to let them drop.
    A pair of guards stood near the host. Each was rubbing his eyes with one hand