Free Critical Reaction by Todd M. Johnson

movie theaters, and even a regional airport. An unexpected oasis in a deserton the Columbia River over a hundred miles from the nearest major city.
    Ryan looked at his daughter again, with her studied calmness, and felt a small anger kindle in him. She absolutely refused by word or expression to acknowledge the obvious faults with Kieran’s case. His patience was slipping away, and with it his last restraint.
    Okay. Emily wasn’t interested in seeing the obvious. Was it because of the boy? He’d just have to make it more obvious.
    “So, trial’s coming up in a couple months,” Ryan finally asked Kieran.
    “Yes,” Kieran answered.
    “And your attorney wanted out of the case.”
    Kieran nodded.
    “Well, I read the Complaint. You claim Covington was responsible for keeping that vat in LB5 safe. You claim the explosion exposed you to chemicals and radiation.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Do you know what caused the vat to explode?”
    Kieran blinked. “No.”
    “What does Covington say.”
    “They say the chemicals in the vat I was near became reactive from evaporation and exploded.”
    “Anything else?”
    “They say it’s not their fault.”
    “I understand there was an investigation by Covington.”
    “Yes. My attorney . . . my former attorney has a copy of their report.”
    “What’s it say. Exactly.”
    “I don’t know. She hasn’t sent me a copy.”
    “Has your lawyer hired experts who say the explosion was Covington’s fault?”
    Kieran nodded. “Pauline said she’s got some expert help, yes.”
    “What has she told you about your expert’s opinions.”
    “Not much yet. Just that her expert says Covington’s responsible.”
    “That’s all?”
    “Yes.”
    “Alright. And LB5 wasn’t the place you usually worked.”
    Kieran nodded. “That’s right. My supervisor and I were moved to LB5 from our regular station for two weeks just before the explosion. We were covering for the regular stabilizing engineers out there.”
    “Where were the regulars?”
    “They were on a training exercise. DOE requires an ongoing rotation of tests and monitoring, so sometimes we get shifted to another building to cover when a regular crew isn’t available. The explosion happened on our last night shift at LB5.”
    “‘We’ means you and your supervisor?”
    “Yeah. Taylor Christensen.”
    “You still work with Taylor?”
    “Yeah. We’re back at our regular station, Research Center 12. With my headaches and cough, I’m only out there half time right now.”
    “And this Taylor’s got no coughs, no radiation-related problems.”
    Kieran shook his head. “No, but he had his mask on that night.”
    “And you say they did a whole body count on you after the explosion—for radiation. Which was negative.”
    Kieran shifted in his seat. “Yes.”
    “And the blood and urine testing—for chemicals—showed no exposure to chemicals with long-term health effects.”
    “Well, eight months is pretty long term.”
    Ryan raised his hands. “I mean carcinogenic chemicals.”
    Kieran nodded. “That’s right.”
    “And you’re convinced you were exposed to damaging radiation because . . . ?”
    “Like I said when I described the explosion, the radiation monitors in the hallway were lighting up like pinball machines.”
    “You saw that while you were falling to the floor.”
    Kieran nodded defiantly.
    “In the middle of an explosion that knocked you out.”
    “That’s right.”
    “And they’ve told you your dosimetry badge showed no radiation exposure, either.”
    Kieran was fidgeting now. From the corner of his eye, Ryan could see the same irritation in his sister.
    “No.”
    “But you don’t believe them about that, either.”
    Kieran’s hands were clenched on the table. “If LB5’s half as crapped up as the rest of the plutonium processing buildings on the reservation, an explosion like that should’ve shaken it up like a snow globe. They didn’t tell me I got a safe dose; they told