by Ann Benson
He set aside thoughts of the phone call and concentrated on the circle of fabric. The lab was still the most logical place to look for it, so he went there, hoping it would be a fruitful effort, for as the day progressed and his condition worsened, he understood that any effort he expended would have to be spare until he felt more himself. He placed his hand flat on the gray screen outside the lab’s main door and heard the soft click of the lock opening. He entered the lab and immediately heard another kind of clicking, the sound of fingers lightly working the keyboard of a computer, and found Caroline working intently at one of the computerized systems.
Having also forgotten that she would be working in the lab that day, Ted was caught off-guard by her unexpected presence. Though he’d met her only twice, he recognized her immediately from the fall of red hair tumbling down her back in soft waves. He had an impulse to reach out and grab a handful of her hair while her back was still turned, then rub it against his cheek. He wondered if she would be shocked by such an action.
As his hand reached out toward the mass of curls, he caught himself and quickly drew it back, his heart full of shame for the uncharacteristic thing he’d nearly done. He’d sooner reach out and stroke the mane of a lion than touch a woman’s hair uninvited, and he was shocked at his own behavior. Dear God, what’s gotten into me? he wondered frantically. He felt uncomfortable even being in the lab without her knowing of his presence. He announced himself discreetly by clearing his throat, forgetting that his throat was sore, and grimaced at the pain the small sound caused him.
Caroline heard him and turned around. He almost gasped but caught himself before offending her. It was certainly Caroline, but how different she looked! There was none of the rosy glow he had seen in her cheeks when they’d met before. Her skin was pasty white, except around her eyes, which were rimmed with streaks of red. She appeared to be having difficulty turning her head.
Caroline saw the look of shock in his eyes and flushed with embarrassment, in high contrast to her sickly pallor. In her mirror that morning she had seen the look of oncoming illness; like Ted, she supposed it was the onset of a cold.
“Good afternoon, Caroline,” Ted said. “How are you today?”
She coughed twice, small hard barks, which she muffled with her hand. “Truthfully, I’ve been better,” she answered. “I seem to have developed something nasty.”
“We seem to share that affliction,” he said. “A cold, perhaps. The undefeated scourge of modern medicine. I’m glad I’m not alone, but I regret that you’re my company in misery.”
“Thanks.” She smiled weakly. “I think this might be more than just a cold. I’ve had a killer headache since I got out of bed this morning. I’ve got just a few more files to copy, then I’m going right back to the hotel and getting under the bedcovers. I hope I can fight this off without arousing any interest from the local Biocops. I figure if I lay low, I won’t attract any attention. I’ll be out of your way shortly.” She turned away and blew her nose.
“Oh, you’re not in my way at all. I just need to locate a few items in the storage freezer. Then I’m through for the day too. By the way, have you heard from our friends in Leeds? I was wondering if they had any success in locating those soil samples.”
The word Leeds triggered the thought phone call again. There was a connection to be made there, but it escaped him. He felt a hot wave of frustration building up inside him and he began to feel angry. He missed the first part of Caroline’s response to his question, and heard only the tail end of it.
“… this evening, if they managed to pry them loose.”
She was saying that she thought they might return that night. Ted knew it was highly unlikely that they’d be back so quickly because wheels of bureaucracy, especially the British scientific bureaucracy, turned very slowly indeed. But he made no mention of his doubts and instead tried to engage Caroline in a conversation about the contaminated piece of fabric. “So have you had some time to work with that thing you found in one of the tubes—that piece of cloth? Quite an interesting find. I should think you’d be anxious to examine it.”
Caroline started to say, “No, I didn’t have time today; I had too much to do, and anyway we—” but her sentence was interrupted by a sudden fit of almost violent coughing. She got up from her chair and bent over, still coughing, and placed her hands on her knees to ease her breathing.
Ted was alarmed and came over to her. He placed his hand on her back for comfort, and gently rubbed in circles, which seemed to calm her. In a few moments she was upright again and coughing only lightly.
When she could speak again, she laughed a little and said, “Excuse me! That was rather indelicate. I think I’d better just go back to the hotel now.”
No! he thought desperately, not until you tell me where you put that damned piece of fabric! He tried to think of a way to maintain contact with her, but his brain felt like tapioca pudding, all thick and cloudy with big lumps of some nondescript gelid substance floating around in it. Think, Ted! he scolded himself. And finally, after a period of agonizing blankness, his temporary wave of thickheadedness passed and the notion of offering help presented itself. He was filled with relief to have an idea that actually made sense to him.
He put on his most solicitous face. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, his brows furrowed in concern. “You might need something. Especially until your friend returns. Perhaps I can help.”
Caroline sat down in the chair again, coughed a few more times, and began putting away her cataloging work. “If I get any worse, I just might need your help. The health care system here is so confusing, and I’m worried about getting myself into something more complicated than necessary if I try to get help through the ordinary channels. If I get detained we’ll run into all sorts of difficulties, and Janie has this morbid fear of being bodyprinted. She’s determined to get back to the States before it’s required of her here.”
He didn’t agree about the bodyprinting. He and Bruce had had a major part in perfecting the technique, and though he would be the first to admit that the experience of being bodyprinted would not be described by any normal human being as “pleasant,” few would say that it was not intriguing. But he agreed with her assessment of the potential for travel difficulties. “Understandable. It could be quite difficult.”
Caroline elaborated. “If Janie were here she would take care of me, but she’s not and I’m not sure when she will be. Could you give me the name of a real doctor in case I need to see one? One who won’t turn me in? I mean, whatever I have, it seems to have come on awfully fast.”
There were any number of physicians connected to the Institute who would have been glad to help out quietly, even though it was technically against the law to do so, and Ted had easy access to their private phone numbers. But he was hesitant to pass her on to someone else. Even in his state of increasing incoherence Ted knew he couldn’t afford to have her running loose before he got his hands on that fabric. There was simply too much potential for disaster. He took a pen from the chest pocket of his lab coat and pulled a notepad from the side pocket, then scribbled a series of numbers.
“This is my home number,” he said, offering it to Caroline. Not wanting her to know he was without plans, he added, “I’m going to be in and out, but if you need help, call and leave me a message. I should be able to scout up a doctor who can see you right away.”
As she took the piece of paper from his hand a smile of relief spread over her face. “Thanks,” she said, looking genuinely grateful.
“You know,” Ted told her, “I really don’t understand why you Americans object so strenuously to bodyprinting. It’s hardly any worse than mammograms used to be, and it’s certainly no worse than a testigram.” He shuddered, thinking of the last time he’d been checked for testicular abnormalities after the initial Outbreak. “It’s a wonderful diagnostic tool; we can tell so much about the body with so little effort.”
“Actually, Ted, I think th
at’s the whole problem.”
“Well, I suppose it entirely depends on your point of view. But that’s a discussion for another time.” He smiled too sweetly and said, “Perhaps it would be a good idea for me to check in on you once or twice over the weekend if you’re going to be alone. Where are you staying?”
Without giving it a second thought, Caroline told him.
“Well, I’ll be in touch, then,” he said. He left her somewhat reluctantly and went to the catalog for the freezer. When he’d entered the lab earlier, he’d been reminded about the necessity of finding a replacement carrier for P. coli, and was determined to get that task out of the way before he collapsed into his bed. The experiment seemed a million light-years away. All he did was look at the names on his list and then check to see that samples of his choices were available, which they all were. After that, all notions of work left his mind.
He went to the men’s room before leaving. As he was washing his hands, he glanced up at his own image in the mirror.
His neck was beginning to swell.
For the remainder of the drive to Leeds, Janie and Bruce talked quietly. Janie took a turn at driving for a while on a section of highway where the traffic was very light. As they neared Leeds, the traffic began to pick up, and she yielded the wheel to Bruce again. Not long after, he took an exit and followed a side road to the converted toy factory. Bruce parked the car in a side lot, and as they shook off the stiffness of the second part of the drive, Janie looked at her watch. “It’s two forty-five. If we can get our business done in an hour or less, we should be able to have a decent trip back.”
As Bruce locked up the car he said, “There’s a good chance we can. Let’s just hope Ted was able to throw his weight around for us.”
After asking Bruce a few questions the security guard searched through his computer files for some communication from Ted about the missing tubes. Bruce and Janie waited impatiently just outside the security scanners, so close to what Janie needed, but still on the outside. But there had been no message from Ted.
“I’ve made an attempt to contact his office directly on the computer,” the guard reported, “but his system’s not responding. Perhaps you have another way of contacting him.”
Bruce immediately dialed Ted’s personal beeper number on his portable phone, but there was no answer.
“Damn!” he said, his frustration evident. “He’s not answering. That’s very unusual. I’ve never seen him without his beeper.”
Despite repeated attempts over the next half-hour, Ted could not be reached. They complained bitterly and the guard referred them to the chief of security, not wishing to be subjected to further undeserved abuse. They were told that if they started the paperwork at that moment, the proper clearances could be secured by the following morning without Ted’s authorization.
“But what about my own clearances?” Bruce asked indignantly. “Don’t they count for anything?”
“Oh, indeed they do, Dr. Ransom,” the chief responded with a sugary smile. “Without your clearances you wouldn’t get the materials out of here in less than a week.”
Bruce guided Janie out of earshot of the guard. “I don’t know what to say about this. I’m really embarrassed. And I’m really sorry. Ted’s usually very reliable about taking care of details. I can’t imagine why he didn’t make that call. He’s such a stickler for details and procedure.”
Janie attempted to hide her frustration and failed miserably. Her forehead tightened and she suddenly felt very haggard. Rubbing her temples to keep a developing headache at bay, she stood motionless and silent for a moment. Then she looked at Bruce and said, “What bullshit this all is. No wonder the world is falling apart.”
He said nothing, having no immediate solution to offer. After a few moments he spoke again. “As the Brits would say, ‘Quite.’ ”
Disgusted by the ridiculous nature of her dilemma, she dropped all pretenses of civility and said, “Very fucking quite, indeed.”
Bruce was not surprised by the vehemence of her anger. Instead, he tried to move her toward a solution. “What do you want to do now? It’s your call.”
Janie sighed deeply. “I guess I just really want to know the bottom line. If we can be out of here tomorrow morning, that’s still better for me than having to dig new samples. I think we should just keep trying to get in touch with Ted. Maybe we can still pull this off today.”
Not wishing her to labor under illusions of possible success, he said, “I think that’s unlikely.”
“When do they close up shop here?”
“Probably five-thirty.” He looked at his watch. “That gives us about two hours to get hold of Ted and complete the paperwork. If we manage to do that, it still means we’d be driving most of the night. I’m not sure I’m up to doing that. We may have to stay here tonight, unless you want to go back right now and just start digging bright and early tomorrow.”
Janie paced around in a random, meandering path, her arms folded protectively across her chest, her heavy briefcase hanging by a strap from one shoulder. “I didn’t recontact the owners,” she said. “I was so sure we’d get this taken care of today. I don’t even know yet if anyone will let me dig again.”
Her unhappiness and frustration, a good part of which he felt he’d caused, weighed heavily on Bruce. “Look,” he said, “we need a plan. I don’t mind staying here tonight, and even if we left right now, we wouldn’t get back in time for you to accomplish anything today. There’s a very nice hotel in the center of Leeds and I’m sure they’ll have a room.”
She shot him a glance of surprise.
“Rooms,” he quickly corrected himself.
She let out a long breath. “I don’t think there’s much choice. We’ll have to stay. And I’d be very grateful if you would fill out those forms, just in case. But if we can’t get the tubes bright and early tomorrow morning, I need to go right back to London. If I start digging the minute we get back, I’ll still have to dig like a mole for the next two days.”
“I’m really sorry for all this trouble.”
“It’s not your fault, Bruce, and you’ve been a real prince about helping me. I guess I’d better call Caroline. She can start with the phone calls to the owners. Can I use your phone, please?”
He handed it to her and she dialed the London number of their hotel. There was no answer in Caroline’s room, so Janie left her a message on the voice mail, full of detailed instructions. Then Bruce tried Ted’s beeper again, but it rang and rang, without an answer.
Bruce and Janie drove into Leeds in stony silence after Bruce finished filling out the dozen or so forms required of him at the medical storage facility. They asked directions and were told how to find the converted mill, now a lovely small hotel, that Bruce remembered from a previous trip. They found it easily, right in the heart of what had once been the industrial center of a bustling Edwardian city, a city now struggling to maintain its tax base. The area in which the hotel was situated was enjoying a renaissance as a chic lodging and entertainment district. Years of grime had been sandblasted from the Victorian factory-turned-hotel before its renovation and the neat rows of exterior brick were uniformly reddish brown. In the early-evening sun the muted color was particularly inviting, and Janie felt some of her brittleness wash away as she let the warm red glow radiate through her tired body.
She’d felt so smug and prepared as she and Bruce got out of the car, thinking about the clean panties and toothbrush tucked into her bag. Then she saw Bruce go around to the trunk of the car and retrieve an overnight bag, and her self-satisfaction evaporated into a feeling of complete incompetence before the trunk lid slammed shut again.
“I like to be prepared,” he said as he handed the bag to the porter. “I should’ve said something to you about this possibility.”
She suppressed an expletive in its embryonic stages and said sweetly, “It’s okay. I’m not completely unprepared. I sort of thought we might hit a snag. I tucked a few necessities into m
y briefcase.”
“Good thinking,” he said. “Let’s get settled in, then we can hunt down some dinner.”
They agreed on a time to meet in the lounge and then checked into two attractive rooms at opposite ends of the seventh floor. After a quick freshening Janie walked to the nearby business district, where she found a few stores still open. She bought a dress and a pair of nice earrings and walked briskly back toward the hotel.
My kingdom for a good long run, she thought to herself as she quickened her pace. By the time she reached the hotel, she felt almost normal again. She cleaned herself up and changed into the dress, then put on the earrings as she surveyed herself in the mirror.
“Not bad for an old broad,” she said aloud to her reflected image, and headed downstairs.
As she approached the table Bruce stood up and pulled out a chair for her. He said, “I took the liberty of ordering a bottle of wine I thought you might like. I told the steward to hold it until you got here.”
He barely had the words out when the steward appeared with two glasses, a bottle, and a corkscrew. He went through the ritual of displaying the label for Bruce’s approval, then deftly removed the cork with a few swift turns of the wooden handle. He poured a small amount in a glass, then stood back discreetly as Bruce took in its fragrance and tasted it. Bruce nodded his satisfaction with the dark red liquid, and the steward stepped forward again to fill their glasses.
