It is instantly apparent the sample is not normal. Instead of the typical clear water-like fluid, my vials hold a cloudy, almost sludge-like liquid. After finishing the collection I plug the needle and begin to remove it from his spine. Before I finish, Leland entire body suddenly contorts with the rhythmic contractions of a seizure. I rush to pull the needle out, but the force of his movement is only partially contained by the straps. His jerking body unsteadies my hand. With one more pull, the now bent needle is released from his spine. The tip of the needle jumps from my control, piercing my glove.
With Leland’s increasingly violent thrashing, there is no time to check for a puncture. I ignore the fear from possibly directly injecting his infection into me, and administer another medication into his intravenous line to calm the seizure. Soon after the injection, his contractions subside. I reposition Leland to allow a more natural position of comfort.
Now that he is relatively stable, I tend to myself. Before even looking for a puncture, I remove my glove and repeatedly sanitize my fingers. My hands tremble and my heart speeds up as I face the thought of becoming infected like this. The cleaning feels like it takes an eternity, but I need to follow the protocol to decrease my risk. After finishing the sterilizing process, a thorough inspection relieves my growing fear. There is no puncture wound. The needle narrowly missed penetrating my skin. I feel a little irritated with myself for letting it get so close. I need to be more careful next time.
Turning my attention back to Leland, I review the medications Rana already administered. She initiated treatment with broad spectrum antibiotics and antiviral infusions. I add some additional medications aimed at supporting his failing circulatory system. After inserting the sample into our specimen analyzer, I shift my focus to the remaining people in the waiting room.
The rest of the patients are not as ill as Leland and do not share his same infection. After minor treatments they are all able to return to their various duties. By the time I finish treating them, the analysis of Leland’s cerebrospinal fluid is complete. The results are worse than I feared. He has an overwhelming infection aggressively attacking his central nervous system. This explains the seizure. From the initial data, the infection appears to be of viral origin, though we will need a more detailed analysis in the Research Department to confirm it. This virus is acting more destructively than any other I had ever seen or even read about. It must be a novel mutation of an old virus. I hope the pathogen is not easily transmitted. If there was an epidemic from a strain this virulent, the effects would be more than Securus could bear.
I return to check on Leland. His vital signs are only marginally improved. He has become alert enough to speak, but the words come out mangled. Despite my suspicions of Leadership, I cannot help but to feel for Leland. I do not know much about him personally, but it is doubtful he has a significant role in whatever they are doing in The Caves.
“Leland, you have a really bad infection. We’re doing everything we can to treat it,” I tell him, not expecting a reply. I always talk to my patients even if they cannot respond because it feels more respectful that way.
For a moment his eyes meet mine. This time I do not see the same vacant gaze as before. He again tries to speak. The words are barely audible.
“It-it…not” he strains to finish, but is already slipping back into his delirium. “Not… right. I’m sorry.”
His focus has eroded and his words trail off into incoherent mumbling. What did he mean? What is he sorry about? Even though he seemed to have a lucid moment, it is impossible to tell if his words were truly meant for me or if he was merely in the grips of confusion. Still, the words echo through my mind, feeling as purposeful as the warning the other man gave me about the shadow-men.
With his initial diagnostic evaluation and treatment completed, I decide to transfer him to the small intensive care unit we have in the far end of the infirmary. Because we are limited in space, most people are returned to their designated quarters for continued treatment. We have another Healer that makes daily rounds through Securus to continue care for those who require it. In cases this severe, in which more constant attention is required, they remain in the intensive care unit with another group of Healers assigned day and night. I check the schedule before going. Today the Healer is Adara. She is a competent and caring Healer from the Leadership caste. As I wheel Leland and his gurney to the intensive care unit, Rana appears in the hall.
“Hey Rana, the results of the CSF analysis were really bad. The infection looks viral, but it’s more severe than any I’ve ever heard of. He even seized when I was doing the LP,” I say while continuing the transfer.
Rana walks with me, helping guide the gurney. “I thought it was going to be a bacterial infection. Interesting.” She sounds more like she is thinking out loud rather than talking to me directly. After a reflective pause, she continues. “I’ll take him from here and fill in Adara on his condition. You need to get ready for Merrick’s service.”
I thank her and head to the decontamination chamber before leaving the infirmary. This is an uncomfortable process, so we only use it when absolutely necessary. The chamber is the size of a hallway pass through and is accessed by clear doors on either side. I enter the chamber, close the door behind me, and activate the system. There is something about the thick fog of sterilizing chemicals now filling the chamber I have always found uniquely unnerving. My vision becomes blurred. The warm, sweet smelling mist fills my lungs, setting them ablaze. An intense paresthesia shoots down my arms and legs. Just when it feels like no oxygen is left in my lungs, the vents activate and mercifully, the mist recedes. My vision returns and the paresthesias subside. I am now safe to exit the infirmary without exposing others to the new pathogen.
I was avoiding thinking about the service, but now nothing is left to distract me. The images of Merrick stuck in that passage replay incessantly in my mind. The feeling of helplessness I had when the soldiers murdered him returns and permeates through my being. I find my way back to my quarters despite the mindlessness of my walk. My mother and Arluin have yet to return, so I lie on my bunk to wait for them.
My mother is the first to arrive. I hear her enter, but do not get up from my bunk. She walks over and sits beside me.
“Kagen, I know you don’t want to talk about what happened, so please just listen for a moment. When your father died I felt lost, but I had you and Arluin to keep me from surrendering to my grief. We were able to endure as a family.” Her words tremble as she speaks and tears form in her eyes. She usually hides her sadness from us, but this time she makes no effort to conceal it.
“Life in Securus is challenging. We were not meant for this kind of environment, but we do the best we can. It will help to think of the joyful moments you shared with Merrick. Don’t let his memory fade. He will continue on through you as well as the rest of his friends and family.” The meekness in her voice fades. Her words grow stronger. “And remember, there are still many others who care for you and will help shoulder the load of anger, grief or burden, no matter what.”
*
When Arluin arrives, we all leave our quarters, heading to the main hall for the service. Inside, a large number of people are already gathered, waiting for the proceedings to start. The faces in the crowd reflect the wide mix of ethnic origins that makes up Securus. This is an accidental diversity created by The Agent itself. These were not the people meant for this place, but in the chaos created by The Agent, most of the intended inhabitants were unable to reach Securus. The few of them who did became the founding members of Leadership. After that, whoever made it here first was allowed to stay, until the colony was filled to capacity. Though the faces are all varied, the people are unified with a singular purpose and expression, remembrance and grief.
This hall is the largest Securus has to offer. It has a much higher ceiling than the others, allowing for a less constricting feel that reminds me of the large open areas in The Caves. Its primary purpose is community meetin
gs or other occasions, such as this one, in which a large gathering is required. Up front is a stage with large screens strategically positioned for visual displays.
Merrick’s parents are on one side of the stage along with his older sister, Rowyn. They hold each other, attempting to soften the blow of their loss. Mr. Vaden and Talia are seated on the opposite side of the stage, solemnly overseeing the proceedings. Between them stands a sturdy, plain wooden table with a crimson velvet cloth carefully placed on top. Wood pieces are a rarity in Securus. They are only used for specific ceremonies such as this one. In the center of the cloth, sits a multicolored urn, skillfully carved out of stone taken from The Caves. Cremation has become our method of burial more out of necessity than tradition. Venturing needlessly onto the surface for an in-ground burial is far too dangerous. The urn itself is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. I cannot see the writing from here, but carved into the face will be Merrick’s name. I have always thought our urns were a fitting resting place for the people of Securus because it mirrors our lives. Forever encased within a solid structure born of the earth but crafted by man.
I look around to spot Hadwin and Sayda. They are on separate ends of the hall, both surrounded by their families. When the flow of mourners entering the hall ceases, the doors are closed. Mr. Vaden walks to the podium to start the service. The screens above the stage now display the identification image of Merrick. His vibrant smile and warm spirit fills the hall.
“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Mr. Vaden says. “We are here to mourn the tragic loss of a valuable member of our community, Merrick Dunn. He is survived by his loving parents and sister. At this time I would like to invite anyone who would like to come to the stage and share your thoughts or memories of Merrick.”
Before he finishes the sentence I feel myself rising from my seat. His family is in no condition to speak right now and someone needs to start. I feel the room watching me as I reach the edge of the stage, where Mr. Vaden waits to escort me to the podium.
“The stage is yours, Kagen,” he whispers while placing a firm hand on my shoulder. I know the gesture is meant to appear reassuring, but somehow it feels unnatural and bereft of true empathy. He leaves me at the podium, but not before taking the audio controller with him. It may seem insignificant, but I know better. He is making it clear that while I may have the floor to speak, he remains in control.
While waiting for Mr. Vaden to reach his seat, my hands become clammy and my heart pounds against my chest wall. I have no prepared speech and have always feared speaking in front of groups of people. Trying to buy some time, I fidget with the microphone, pretending to adjust it. I look back again to see Mr. Vaden watching me from his seat, and then notice Talia next to him. The warmth and reassurance in her eyes urge me to speak. She silently tells me she knows I can do it. I take a deep breath and picture Merrick in my mind.
“Merrick Dunn has been one of my best friends for as long as I can remember,” I say, searching for the words to describe his essence. “He was an intelligent and caring man. He was a friend that you could always count on to do what was right, even if it wasn’t the easiest thing to do. He was driven by a powerful spirit that even Securus could not contain. His competitive nature compelled him to excel and improve in every endeavor. This drive was contagious, and pushed us all to better ourselves along with him. His friendship and actions enriched our lives. I will always remember his strength and courage. Merrick was a good man who has been taken from us far too soon. I will carry his memory with me. Through all of us, his spirit will endure.” I desperately want to continue, to demand justice and answers for his death. But now is not the time, and even if it were, Mr. Vaden would not allow it.
While leaving the stage, I silently renew my promise to Merrick to find those responsible for his death and hold them accountable. When reaching my seat, I hear Hadwin’s voice as he takes the stage.
“Thank you for your words, Kagen. Merrick was like a brother to me as well. We grew up together, always competing with each other. He was very patient and forgiving as well. Like the time I hid all of his clothes the same day his father’s clothes were being cleaned so he had to go to school wearing Rowyn’s extra uniform,” Hadwin says with a reminiscing smile.
The memory of Merrick stuffed in the way too small and entirely too revealing outfit sparks laughter throughout the hall. Even his family fondly remembers that day. Hadwin chuckles and continues to share more stories of his endless pranks on Merrick. Hadwin has always had a way of making us laugh. We need that tonight more than usual. After Hadwin finishes, a parade of others share memories of special moments with Merrick. When there are no more people waiting to talk, Mr. Vaden again takes the podium.
“Once again, thank you all for coming to celebrate the life of Merrick Dunn. This concludes tonight’s service. Dinner hours have been extended to accommodate those in attendance. Thank you and good night.”
The gathering disperses. Most of the people go to the dinner hall. I am physically and emotionally exhausted from everything that has happened in these last two days as well as from the lack of sleep last night. So instead of following them, I decide to skip dinner and return to my quarters. Planning my next actions will have to wait until my mind is rested and clear.
*
Again, I awaken before the morning alert. This time I did manage to rest for most of the night. Since the morning power up is only a few minutes away, I get up to preparing for the day early, wanting to make it to the infirmary before Trent finishes his shift. The water system is always active even when the power is not, so I shower in the darkness. The warm water soothes my mind and eases the tension in my shoulders. I stand motionless for a while, letting the relaxation continue while considering my options. Soon, the time limit activates, automatically turning the water off. That is another of the controls Leadership uses to preserve resources.
My next objective has to be to find a way to get back into The Caves. I need to investigate the tracks those soldiers were guarding if I am to discover what they are trying to hide. It sounds so straightforward, but finding a way to subvert my restriction will not be so easy. Avoiding all Leadership personnel long enough to make it past the initial cavern will be nearly impossible. Finding a way past the collapse will be even harder.
Chapter 7
As soon as I finish dressing, the power turns on. My mother and Arluin rise to begin their morning routines. When our mother is occupied in the bathroom, Arluin seizes his chance to speak with me alone.
“Kagen, why did Mr. Vaden make a point of keeping the audio controller with him when you spoke at the service last night?” he asks in a whisper.
I let out a small laugh. “You really are observant, aren’t you? I didn’t think anyone else noticed that. Mr. Vaden came to talk with me in the infirmary. He was upset that Talia was out there with us, so he revoked my access to The Caves.” I want to leave it at that, but Arluin holds his ground, demanding more of an explanation. “I think he was making sure I didn’t make a scene because I was upset over my restriction.” That will have to be enough of an explanation for now.
The chime for the morning announcements sounds, so Arluin takes his usual position in front of the screen. Our mother quietly emerges from the bathroom and joins him. I have heard more than enough from Mr. Vaden as of late and have no intention of staying for the announcements.
“I’ll see you both later, I want to get a quick breakfast and catch up with Trent before he leaves the infirmary. There’s a really sick patient I want to talk to him about,” I tell them while heading toward the door.
“Kagen, you know the announcements are mandatory,” my mother warns.
“Yeah, I’ll be quiet. No one will notice me since they’ll be watching the announcements themselves. If anyone does ask, I’ll tell them I’m needed in the infirmary,” I say and immediately exit our quarters, not leaving any time for a prolonged argument.
The muffled tones of the announcements come from the ma
ny doors lining the hallway on my way to the breakfast hall. By the time I arrive they are nearly done. I pause and wait for the tone signaling the end of the announcements since the food will not be uncovered until after Mr. Vaden finishes. I am the first to arrive, but the cooks pay no attention to me. Today’s food is the same bland combination of artificial porridge and nutrient drink we had been served all week. I am hungry from missing dinner, so the lack of variety does not bother me today. The regular flow of morning visitors commences as I leave the hall. My mother spots me from a distance. I give her a wave on my way out to let her know that no one noticed my early departure.
The first thing I notice outside the infirmary is the indicator for high level pathogen protection has been deactivated. At least I do not have to go through the decontaminator today. Hopefully that means they discovered the cause of Leland’s illness is not easily transmitted from person to person. Rana has not arrived yet, so I walk through the rest of the infirmary in search of Trent.
The braying of his snoring makes him rather easy to find. He leans back in a chair inside my exam room with his feet propped up on the gurney. His tilted head displays unkempt and thinning ash blonde hair. I ring the patient alarm to awaken him. The tone nearly causes Trent to fall from his chair. He catches himself and steadies his chair while looking around the room with confusion. My laughter seems to jar him to attention. He stands to adjust his clothes and hair to a satisfactory position. With such a limited and regulated diet, it has always puzzled me how he manages to support such a portly stature.
The Death Detail (The Securus Trilogy Book 1) Page 6
