intellect in ruins, but she didn’t care. As for Roger, he seemed to take no notice of his friends or his enemies.
Her phone kept ringing in her hand, but she knew it wasn’t Roger calling her back. She wondered what the nice Board-of-Health man wanted with Roger. She wanted to think there was no connection between this and Carl Marley going out of town, but the timing was too pat. Or was she getting paranoid? Roger had lost his paranoia. Had he shifted it to her?
She trotted and skipped along the west side of the Tech building, trying to see over everyone else. She hoped he wasn’t inside. The place was immense — miles of corridors.
She wondered if the students coming out knew him. Maybe she should ask them if they’d seen him. “You know the one? The nutcase with the black bag and the old boots without laces? Used to teach here long ago, back when you were still a virgin? Have you seen him?”
Then she remembered that it sounded like he was outside when she’d called him. She remembered the footsteps passing the phone, crunching like they were on pavement, not terrazzo floors. She headed around toward the Shakespeare Garden. He liked to go and sit there. Sometimes, when it was warm, she’d bring a sandwich at lunch time and find him there, and they’d sit and eat on the long bench.
But he wasn’t in the little park. She couldn’t get the image out of her head that Roger was dead. That was the reason the phone fell on the ground. Maybe that’s why “they” were looking for him. They’d found out that whatever he’d caught in the hospital was actually deadly. But it was already too late. Whatever he’d caught had just killed him, five minutes ago.
Fear swept her along through the garden. Panic and dread together. And as always, as in every pathetic crisis that she chased him through, there came that shameful little wish, the secret hope that maybe this time was the last time, that maybe now it would all at last be over and she could breathe again.
But it wasn’t over.
Chapter 8
The C-20 that flew them to Andrews was big enough for over a dozen passengers, but they had it all to themselves. The two aides stretched out in the back of the cabin and dozed. Marley and his new boss sat up forward in a quad of facing seats.
Benford came from the galley with two cold bottles of water and gave Marley one. She loosened her tie and put her feet up on the seat next to him. Now we’re buddies, see, I’m relaxing. She indicated his tablet, and said, “You’ll want to soak up as much of that material as you can. I need to catch up on messages.”
Marley fell to his studies. An enormous volume of documentation had been amassed by the previous panel, far more than he could review in the next few hours. He decided to ignore the conclusions and analyses and go straight to the source materials. He sorted it all chronologically and starting working his way backwards through time.
3 March 2027. 0530h LT, 1430udt.
Vanala, Kashmir, India.
Operation Broad Reach.
Cpt Jas. Caldwell.
Delta Co. 2nd Mech Infantry.
Unknown psychiatric disorder continues to affect frontline personnel. Cpl Petifer affected last night, began to exhibit typical symptoms — disorientation, passivity, confusion, failure to follow or understand command orders. Maj Dr. Wharmby took him off line 0100h LT. Delta’s force now stands reduced by 30%.
Enemy emplacements continue artillery barrage hourly from multiple locations. Intelligence on their positions and movements extremely low reliability. Shelling is intense but ineffective. Nightsmoke agent makes our surveillance and nightvision equipment useless. Delta has been able to hold but not advance.
Status: Unable to continue effective operations. Dr. Wharmby advises evacuation and quarantine of affected personnel. Command affirms request. Advised: Delta is undermanned. Replacement personnel required to continue operations. If current conditions continue, it will be impossible to
Her phone kept ringing in her hand, but she knew it wasn’t Roger calling her back. She wondered what the nice Board-of-Health man wanted with Roger. She wanted to think there was no connection between this and Carl Marley going out of town, but the timing was too pat. Or was she getting paranoid? Roger had lost his paranoia. Had he shifted it to her?
She trotted and skipped along the west side of the Tech building, trying to see over everyone else. She hoped he wasn’t inside. The place was immense — miles of corridors.
She wondered if the students coming out knew him. Maybe she should ask them if they’d seen him. “You know the one? The nutcase with the black bag and the old boots without laces? Used to teach here long ago, back when you were still a virgin? Have you seen him?”
Then she remembered that it sounded like he was outside when she’d called him. She remembered the footsteps passing the phone, crunching like they were on pavement, not terrazzo floors. She headed around toward the Shakespeare Garden. He liked to go and sit there. Sometimes, when it was warm, she’d bring a sandwich at lunch time and find him there, and they’d sit and eat on the long bench.
But he wasn’t in the little park. She couldn’t get the image out of her head that Roger was dead. That was the reason the phone fell on the ground. Maybe that’s why “they” were looking for him. They’d found out that whatever he’d caught in the hospital was actually deadly. But it was already too late. Whatever he’d caught had just killed him, five minutes ago.
Fear swept her along through the garden. Panic and dread together. And as always, as in every pathetic crisis that she chased him through, there came that shameful little wish, the secret hope that maybe this time was the last time, that maybe now it would all at last be over and she could breathe again.
But it wasn’t over.
Chapter 8
The C-20 that flew them to Andrews was big enough for over a dozen passengers, but they had it all to themselves. The two aides stretched out in the back of the cabin and dozed. Marley and his new boss sat up forward in a quad of facing seats.
Benford came from the galley with two cold bottles of water and gave Marley one. She loosened her tie and put her feet up on the seat next to him. Now we’re buddies, see, I’m relaxing. She indicated his tablet, and said, “You’ll want to soak up as much of that material as you can. I need to catch up on messages.”
Marley fell to his studies. An enormous volume of documentation had been amassed by the previous panel, far more than he could review in the next few hours. He decided to ignore the conclusions and analyses and go straight to the source materials. He sorted it all chronologically and starting working his way backwards through time.
3 March 2027. 0530h LT, 1430udt.
Vanala, Kashmir, India.
Operation Broad Reach.
Cpt Jas. Caldwell.
Delta Co. 2nd Mech Infantry.
Unknown psychiatric disorder continues to affect frontline personnel. Cpl Petifer affected last night, began to exhibit typical symptoms — disorientation, passivity, confusion, failure to follow or understand command orders. Maj Dr. Wharmby took him off line 0100h LT. Delta’s force now stands reduced by 30%.
Enemy emplacements continue artillery barrage hourly from multiple locations. Intelligence on their positions and movements extremely low reliability. Shelling is intense but ineffective. Nightsmoke agent makes our surveillance and nightvision equipment useless. Delta has been able to hold but not advance.
Status: Unable to continue effective operations. Dr. Wharmby advises evacuation and quarantine of affected personnel. Command affirms request. Advised: Delta is undermanned. Replacement personnel required to continue operations. If current conditions continue, it will be impossible to
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