The temperature and humidity were optimized; the electricity content of air was neutralized both electrostatically and by nuclear ionization, and the air cycled and purified once an hour. In the event of a catastrophic power failure, which is not un- known in New York, almost 10,000 square feet was dedicated to power redundancy and battery backup. In case of fire, heat sensors trigger the release of halon gas and suck all of the oxygen from the room in seconds. The Stock Exchange computers received the best care. Joe tested the handle on the door of each darkened room through the myriad glass hallways. Without the computers behind the glass walls, it might as well have been a House of Mirrors. He noticed that the computer operators who work through the night were crowded together at the end of a hall next to the only computer rooms with activity. He heard them muttering about the cleaning staff. "Hey guys, problem?" Joe asked. "Nah, we escaped," a young bearded man in a white lab coat said pointing into the room. "His vacuum cleaner made one God awful noise, so we came out here til' he was done." "New cleaning service," Joe said offhandedly. The dark complexioned cleaning man wore a starchy white uniform with Mohammed's Cleaning Service emblazoned across the back in bold red letters. They watched him, rather than clean the room, fiddle with the large barrel sized vacuum cleaner. "What's he doing?" "Fixing that noise, I hope." "What's he doing now?" "He's looking at us and, saying something . . ." "It looks like he's praying . . ." "Why the hell would he . . ." The entire 46 story building instantly went dark and the force of the explosion rocked Tony from his seat fifty yards away. He reached for the flashlight on his belt and pressed a series of alarms on the control panel even though the video monitors were black and the emergency power had not come on. Nothing. He ran towards the sound of the blast and yelled. "Hello? Hey?" he yelled nervously into the darkness. "Over here, hurry," a distant pained voice begged. Tony slid into a wall and stopped. He pointed his flashlight down one hall. Nothing. "Over here." He jumped sideways and pointed the beam onto a twisted maze of bodies, some with blood geysering into the air from their necks and arms and legs. Tony saw that the explosion had shattered the glass walls into thousands of high velocity razor sharp projec- tiles. The corpses had been pierced, stabbed, severed and muti- lated by the deadly shards. Tony felt nauseous; he was going to be sick right then. "Tony." A shrapnelled Joe squeaked from the mass of torn flesh ahead of him. "Holy shit . . ." Tony's legs to turned to jelly as he bent over and gagged. "Help me!"