trap

I assume you're

I assume you're mined for destruction?"
"Affirmative."
"Wait until the last minute—until there's a nice crowd of curious zombies and other nonexistent phenomena around; then blow. Understand?"
"Affirmative," the voice said calmly.
I went to the narrow exit panel, paused. "Monitor, how do you feel about blasting yourself out of existence? I mean do you care?"
"Question requires value-judgment outside the scope of installed circuitry," the voice said.
"Yours not to reason why, eh? I guess you're lucky at that. It's not dying that hurts—it's living." I took a last look back at the station. It wasn't homey, but it had saved my life.
"So long," I called.
There was no answer. I stepped through into the narrow corridor.
* * *
I reached the ascending staircase at the end of the mile-long, tile-walled tunnel. I fumbled, found an electro-latch of unfamiliar design. With a whining of gears, a heavy trap door lifted. I emerged into icy-cold, dusty-smelling darkness, felt my