Free The Dream Widow by Stephen Colegrove Page B

of data fill the screens. Nothing showed out of the normal limits.
    Afterwards, Badger led everyone to the practice field and Wilson settled in Reed’s office. A few patients came in with minor ailments, but he still had time to read a text on pediatrics.      Badger returned and showered a few hours later, and after the evening meal they returned to the rectory.
    As the inner hatch closed Wilson heard a high-pitched chirp from Reed’s office. The flat desk display flashed with the triangular communication symbol. After Wilson pressed it the speakers hissed and popped and the screen changed to a single line broken by amplitude waves.
    “–don’t know if this is working,” said Father Reed. “Can you hear me?”
    “I can hear you,” said Wilson.
    “I wanted to give you an update, and I know you’re wondering why I’m still down here. Everything’s fine. The project that Jack and I are working on is taking longer than I expected, but there’s nothing to be concerned about. I’ll stay here tonight instead of walking up all those steps to the surface.”
    “How’s my mother?”
    “Busy fixing her living quarters. I haven’t seen much of her; that’s probably for the best.”
    “When should I expect you back?”
    “It’s difficult to say. Tomorrow evening, at the latest.”
    In the middle of the night the glow-lights on his bedroom wall flickered then died. Badger murmured in her sleep. Wilson kept his arm around her until the glow came back.
     
    “THIS MEETING IS BEING called at short notice, and for a good reason,” said Father Reed. “Please, have a seat.”
    The department leaders stood around the meeting room in open-mouthed shock. Thirty-six hours had passed since Reed had descended the deep stairwell to the Tombs, and a full twenty-four since Wilson had talked to him. Apart from his normal blue jumpsuit his appearance had changed completely.
    Reed’s head and beard had been shaved and his eyes were dark and hooded. The flour-white skin on his head was dotted with tiny metal circles, brushed silver in color and with minuscule, threaded bolt-holes.
    Hausen stepped into the room. “Sorry I’m late––what in the name of the founder and his three holy cats!”
    “Watch your language,” said Reed. “Have a seat, everyone.”
    Reluctantly, the men sat down and wooden chairs squawked across the floor. Reed took a knit cap from his pocket and pulled it down around his ears.
    “I apologize for shocking all of you with my appearance, but it was important for you to understand the situation. Jack is approaching a failure state much faster than either he or I anticipated. His instability is even affecting power distribution throughout the village. Given the options available to us––options we discussed weeks ago––I’ve decided to replace Jack as controller for the entire facility.”
    “This is out of control,” said Hausen. “This can’t be the best way.”
    Wilson put his head on the wooden table.
    “Temporarily, right?” asked Simpson.
    Reed shook his head. “Once a person enters a controller dome and begins the interface process, he cannot leave. To be more precise, once inside and integrated with the system, he cannot survive outside.”
    “It’s a death sentence,” said Hausen. “Suicide.”
    “Suicide is doing nothing and waiting for Jack to die,” said Reed. “The Circle is approaching. We can’t survive the winter and fight them off at the same time. I’m trading what’s left of my life for the safety of everyone at Station.”
    “We don’t know that the Circle is coming,” said Wilson.
    “And who’s going to replace you?” asked Simpson.
    Reed pursed his lips. “Wilson–”
    “He’s a traitor,” said Hausen. “He left us before and he’ll leave us again.”
    “Say that closer to my face,” said Wilson.
    “I don’t hit children.”
    “Both of you sit down! I won’t tolerate this behavior. Now, Hausen, understand that I’ll still be available