Free Stormworld by Brian Herbert, Bruce Taylor Page B

no real doctor in the seed repository, the answer might never be known. Rumors were swirling that Director Jackson had murdered him, and made it look like an accident.
    Abe thought the truth was that some of the cans were outdated, and Jimmy took a chance and lost. Everyone had seen the cans and the expiration dates on them, even slight bulges in some cans that didn’t seem to harm anyone when they ate the contents. It had been going on for months, and Jimmy just got unlucky.
    At Abe’s side, Benitar continued to stare up at the door as it shook, but continued to hold. Gradually the commotion outside died down, and the repository staff dispersed, murmuring uneasily among themselves.
    * * *
    Abe stood in the corridor with Peggy. “Are you getting any sleep?” he asked. Looking up at him, she saw that his face was a strange, anguished mask.
    Shaking her head, she confessed, “Not much. I was just dozing off, trying to take a nap when I heard all the racket.” Behind her, she saw that Rosie had fallen into a more peaceful sleep, despite the nearby noise.
    Peggy noticed Abe’s deep concern that showed in his voice and his unconscious mannerisms, especially in the nervous twitching around his jaw. He still held the .38 pistol, had it pointed at the floor.
    “This is awkward for me to say,” Peggy began, “but I’m afraid I’m not producing enough milk for Rosie. Can you bring me some powdered milk?” She felt a deep, rising panic.
    Grimly, Abe nodded.
    Hearing Rosie stir, Peggy hurried to her and lifted her out of the makeshift crib. So light in her arms. She tucked the towel around Rosie’s tiny form, and saw the sickness from malnutrition in her blue eyes, a malady that seemed to be getting worse.
    “Something else you should know, I guess …” Abe followed her into the room and set his gun on a table. From the expression on his face, she thought he was trying to figure out how to say something difficult. “We … Belinda and I … found Jimmy Hansik dead.” With measured words, Abe provided the gloomy details, and his theory of what happened. The can of salmon had been eight months past the expiration date.
    “My God,” Peggy said as she sat on her bed, but she hardly had time to let the terrible news sink in. Looking down, she saw her baby’s lips moving, making sucking motions. Peggy lifted her own gray fleece pullover so that Rosie could nurse, then felt the heartbreakingly weak suction of the child at her nipple.
    In an emotionless voice, Abe looked away from the exposed breast and said, “We put his body in the cooling chamber with the others.” It was as if he was making an announcement about the weather or the price of subzero parkas, as if he had no emotions left to grieve, or even be angry. But Peggy knew differently, and she couldn’t fault him. Everyone in the seed repository had been through a great deal, and Abe had proven his courage and goodness to her.
    “How’s Belinda doing?” asked Peggy.
    “Numb. I haven’t seen her cry yet, but I’m sure at some point she will.”
    “I’ll check in on her when I can,” Peggy promised, though she didn’t know where she was going to find the necessary energy. She felt a surge of guilt for even thinking that.
    Cradling Rosie as the baby nursed, Peggy studied this rare man who had become her friend, noticing he had deteriorated to a shadow since she had met him, with flecks of gray hair at the temples and his hair increasingly disheveled. His brown eyes were so washed out and drained that they frightened her.
    Abe came over, sat heavily next to her on the bed, and put an arm around her shoulders. They just sat there, saying nothing, as Rosie suckled at her mother’s breast.
    He was not there long when another uproar sounded outside, a tremendous crashing cacophony this time, and loud voices followed by gunfire. Startled, Peggy jerked back from her baby, but held onto her. Rosie screeched in protest, and continued to make sucking motions with