Free The Gossamer Crown: Book One of The Gossamer Sphere by Melissa Conway

– which darted from the drill ship to the ambulance to Astrid.  Her head turned and he followed her gaze, where just beyond the ambulance, a tall, dark-haired man in work pants and a plaid shirt stood on the dock talking with two men in business suits. 
    “That’s Bill Masters,” Kevin said.  From Bill’s angry face and quick gestures, the discussion with the official-looking men wasn’t pleasant.  Kevin started forward, but Caitlin stopped him.
    He expected her to make him wait there as she barged over to introduce herself, but she said, “Find out how many are sick.  Tell him to isolate the iridium.”
    Kevin didn’t think Masters would listen to a student intern, but he nodded and started over.  The nearest paramedic bent to lift the stretcher into the ambulance, and Kevin got a good look at Astrid.  The whites of her eyes were blood-red.  She suddenly surged up against her restraints.  Her body twisted frantically and she ignored the paramedic’s entreaties to lie still, until she’d worked one arm free.  Eyes wide, face cast in a terrible grimace, she pointed and made desperate, garbled sounds in her throat.  Kevin thought for a moment that she was pointing at him, but he stepped aside to see that Caitlin was the target.  Caitlin’s chin lifted and she shook her head slowly.  Astrid sank back onto the stretcher as if exhausted.  Just before she was loaded into the ambulance, Kevin caught sight of the glisten of tears on her flushed cheeks.
    Disturbed, he walked on, but when he approached the three men, they ignored him.
    “It’s not a bloody epidemic,” Masters was saying. “It’s just a flu bug.”
    “If it’s flu, it’s clearly virulent,” said one of the other men.  “She’s the fourth one this week, and the first is on life support.  Until we determine what this ‘flu bug’ is exactly, consider the ship quarantined.”
    The man slapped a handful of papers against Masters’ chest.  Kevin stood his ground as the men brushed past him.  Masters glanced at the sheaf of papers in his hand and looked disgusted.  The ambulance driver began backing up, and probably to encourage people to get out of the way, he turned on the siren.  The sound was different, more plaintive than a siren in the states.
    “What are you doing here, Guzman?” Masters asked.  “Are you sick, too?”
    “No,” Kevin said.  “How many are sick?”
    “Is Weinstein with you?”
    “No.  You need to isolate the last core sample.  Make sure no one touches it with their bare hands.”
     “You were there,” Bill said, looking at Kevin strangely.  “You know it was strict protocol to glove up around the core samples.”
    “How many are sick?”  Kevin asked again.
    “What do you care?  And what are you doing here, kid?  You flew back to Texas with Weinstein, didn’t you?” 
    Masters just wasn’t listening.  He seemed to be almost deliberately avoiding Kevin’s questions.  Kevin turned to shrug in Caitlin’s direction and found that she’d walked over.
    She stopped a few feet from Masters and said, “William.”
    He looked mildly surprised, but only said, “Caitlin.”

Chapter Fourteen
    East of England, Suffolk County Coast
     
    Lizbeth thought Bill Masters was the best-looking man she’d ever seen.  His nose was a little too large and would have been patrician if not for a bump that sent it ever-so-slightly to the left.  His lips were thin with a deep Cupid’s bow and his eyes were plain brown under a wide forehead.  Separately imperfect, his features came together in a fascinating whole.
    It wasn’t the way Caitlin and Bill looked at each other that hinted at more than a casual acquaintance.  Caitlin had no discernable expression on her face, and Bill only had a faint wrinkle of consternation between his brows.  It was the length of the stare, as if they’d each forgotten what the other looked like and got caught up in refamiliarizing themselves.
    “They’re a little