Page 15 of Resolution
“Pearson and McDaniel won’t talk,” Captain Briskinn interjected hastily. “They’re good men, loyal to the chain of command. And you know Madrigan keeps her own counsel. We can deal with the other guards who were there. Tell them some story or other or send them to?—”
“Shut up,” Quantike said in the coldest voice Jeff had ever heard. “That will be quite enough from either of you.”
“General, I’m sorry,” Frawkins said. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I give you my word I’ll square things away once doc lets me out of this bed. It won’t happen again. I’m sure he can give me something milder to quiet my nerves.”
“Of course, son, no problem. I wish you’d come to me first but it is what it is.” Dr. Sharpton sounded avuncular and patronizing.
“Can you give me an inject for the pain right now?” Frawkins asked.
“If the general is done with the conversation.”
“Go ahead,” Quantike said. “I’ve heard what I needed to hear.”
“Thank you, sir.” Frawkins sounded feverishly grateful but Jeff had no expectation the man would get off so easily. Maybe the general wouldn’t lower the boom today while his aide was in so much pain but Jeff was sure retribution was coming. Men like Quantike weren’t known for being forgiving. The secret of the bracelets was a powerful one and Frawkins had seriously jeopardized the security surrounding it. If the camp residents knew what the bracelets did, people would undoubtedly be tempted to try and steal one for themselves and escape. Right now the population of Glastine felt trapped and beholden to Quantike and his forces, with no hope of leaving the oppressive camp. The bracelet technology changed the calculations.
“You’ll take care of it?” Quantike asked the doctor. If there’d been a request, Jeff had missed it but the comment sounded ominous.
“Certainly. Leave him in my care and have no worries.”
The portal opened and the general strode through, ignoring Jeff and the others, heading for the rear door. The security detail hastily followed, save for one man Quantike told to remain and guard Frawkins.
“He’s to talk to no one except the medical staff.”
“Yes, sir.” The guard was blank faced, staring straight ahead.
And then Quantike was gone, like a hurricane clearing the area.
Dr. Sharpton emerged from the room. “Pearson, would you get my nurses for me?”
Jeff checked with Briskinn who nodded. “You’re free to return to duty at the wall now,” the senior captain said. “There’s to be no discussion of this incident in the ranks.”
“I’ll watch out for chatter, sir,” Jeff saluted and walked away to find the requested staff members.
Chapter Six
That evening they had a date with Les and Devora for dinner at the military commissary. Devora had wangled a pass for Tamsyn to be able to join them on a one time basis and the six of them, counting the toddler, took over a big picnic table in the small outside eating area, under a row of drooping, dusty trees. Les busied himself helping Jenny navigate her dinner, slicing up the beef and swirling gravy onto the mashed potatoes. There was a small side dish of a sweet tuber. Devora leaned over the table and spoke in a low voice.
“I went digging into the databases today. I was determined to see if I could find out anything more about Sandy’s disappearance.” She swallowed hard. “First I checked out the database of people who’d requested to leave and there were a couple dozen. Security had made notes about the time the gate was opened and what happened to the refugees. A lot of it wasn’t pretty, to say the least. It’s nearly impossible to get out of Glastine and get past the infected. No Sandy though. I broadened my search parameters and found her file. There were detailed notations about her blood test which flew right over my head—maybe they’d have made sense to you, doc—a few commendations from the daycare and then the file was closed out with a big ‘RF’. No sign of a request to leave, no notes from Security about letting her out the gate or what happened when she went. Nothing. So I sorted for anyone else with the ‘RF’ designation.”
“And?” Jeff asked while Melly sat in awe of Devora’s bravery.
“Since this camp opened there have been literally hundreds of people—men, women and worst of all, children—whose records end with only the ‘RF’ designator.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Jenny was singing a song to her stuffed animal and the incongruity of the sweet child’s voice and the grim possibilities for what happened to all the missing people struck Melly hard.
“Yeah,” Devora said softly after sipping her fruit drink meditatively. “I kinda had to take a minute or two to process it once I realized the scope of the situation. And then my supervisor came rushing in, yelling for me to stop whatever I was doing because some alarm was going off in her office and she didn’t want the General coming to check up on her operation.”
“Lords of Space,” Melly said. “What did you do? You must have been terrified.”
Devora made a wavy hand gesture but didn’t seem worried. “I shut down my desktop unit. I’d created a simple program to delete all traces of what I’d been doing when I ventured outside my assigned duties weeks ago, just in case. When I first got here and they gave me access, I was trying to help them become better organized and as I said before my boss loved all the new reports I could generate for her. But I crossed a few lines innocently enough then and got warned, so I’m sure what happened today won’t be treated any differently. She’d asked me to run numbers cross referencing the blood types, infirmary records and the food served in the various commissaries so I was creating new folders and pathways anyhow.”
“What an odd area of research for people running a refugee camp,” Melly said.
“We all get weighed once a month,” Devora added. “You haven’t been here long enough but in a couple of weeks you’ll see. Supposedly it’s to make sure the meals are nutritious enough to sustain good health.” She shrugged. “Seems odd, I know but it literally only takes a second to do—they set up the scales at the entrance to the commissaries. There’s never any feedback although one of my assignments is to create a reporting tool to cross reference a bunch of things. I guess they’ve been keeping the record by hand and eyeballing the numbers but no real analysis.”
“You should be careful,” Jeff said. “The camp authorities might be better at monitoring what goes on than you think.”
“I got my answer, at least as far as Sandy goes. It’s a dead end beyond this point.” Devora took Jenny by the hands and set off for the nearest bathroom as the child was adamant she needed to go.
