“Kagen, I didn’t hear you come in,” he says aloofly.
“Yeah, I noticed,” I say with a smile stretched across my face. “Did you happen to check on Leland’s condition?”
“I didn’t have to,” he replies. “He didn’t last very long. He died around one o’clock last night.” Trent’s words sound so indifferent he could easily be speaking of the death of some insignificant insect.
Leland’s death is not a surprise given the severity of his condition, but it affects me none-the-less. It is our charge to heal, and in that, we have failed him.
“I knew it would be difficult to save him, but I didn’t think he would go so fast. Did we get any more results from his sample analysis?” I ask. Maybe we can find some way to learn from this and be better prepared if we encounter this illness again.
“No, most of the samples were destroyed with the terminal cleaning after he died. The few remaining tissue and blood samples that weren’t incinerated were sent to the research lab,” he replies while gathering his equipment, preparing to end his shift.
“We spent half the night with that terminal clean,” he says, shifting from indifference to annoyance.
“Trent,” I say then pause, waiting for his attention. When he notices the prolonged silence, he turns and faces me.
“Kagen?” he urges. At least he has enough tact to sense I have something substantial weighing upon me.
“That night in The Caves with Merrick,” I trail off. Even though I had planned this conversation carefully, the words are difficult to get out. Trent waits for me to finish.
“I keep replaying the events in my mind, trying to figure out what I could’ve done to save him. There had to be a way to get to him in time. Maybe I could have stabilized his injuries long enough to get him back here.” The remorse in my voice keeps Trent silent. Even though my guilt over Merrick’s death is real, I know there was no chance to save him from his real injury. But, I need to know if he is involved in the cover up.
“What was his condition like when you examined him? Be honest, I need to know the extent of his injuries and what you think the fatal one was.” I compel his answer.
“Kagen, he was crushed nearly beyond recognition,” Trent says sympathetically. “I examined him from head to toe and any number of his injuries could’ve been fatal. He had a significantly depressed skull fracture along with a large epidural hematoma, both lungs were collapsed, and he had a splenic rupture.”
I hold my tightly clenched fist behind my back, hiding my anger from his response. Not only does he have the audacity to lie directly to my face with all these contrived injuries, but he also feigns sympathy for my feelings. Whatever is going on, this convinces me he is part of the cover up. I bite my inner lip, fighting to calm my emotions. It would be disastrous for me to lose control and reveal what I suspect. With a deep breath, I carefully compose myself.
“There’s nothing you could have done. You can’t beat yourself up like this,” Trent says with the same manufactured empathy. At least he is not perceptive enough to understand my response was more than simple guilt over a lost friend.
“Okay, thanks,” I say, wanting him to leave before I lose control. “Any patients left from overnight to follow up on?”
“No, no one’s left. I’m going to get some sleep,” he says as he leaves.
I am alone in my exam room, left to absorb the added layer of deception. Now knowing he is involved, I need to be more vigilant with Trent and watch for any other discrepancies. After my usual routine of checking the equipment and replenishing the supplies, I hear footsteps in the hall. I look out to find Rana headed toward the intensive care unit.
“Rana, Leland didn’t make it,” I say. “I already spoke with Trent. They did a terminal clean and released all remaining samples to the research lab. There’s nothing more we can do.”
“I figured that was the case since the infection control protocols were inactivated.” Rana looks off to the side while replying, deep in thought.
“There’s something else I would like to talk to you about, in private,” I say in a near whisper. The tone in my voice refocuses her attention.
“Of course, Kagen,” she says matching my low tone.
I lead her to her appointment room instead of my exam room. If leadership is involved in a cover up, they may be monitoring my work area since I have their attention. Being that I so rarely work in the appointment area, her room should be safer. I am probably being paranoid, but it does not hurt to be cautious. I briefly scan the room, making sure everything appears to be in its usual place before speaking.
“What’s going on Kagen?” she asks, watching me intently.
“Something’s not right, Rana,” I say and move close enough to speak in a whisper. “I asked Trent about Merrick’s injuries this morning. Something seemed off. I think he was lying. There’s something going on that Leadership wants kept quiet.”
“Well, he was acting funny the morning after it happened, but I didn’t know why. What I do know is you need to be careful. You already have Mr. Vaden’s attention. Don’t do anything to make it worse,” she warns.
“I’ll be careful, but I need to ask a favor of you. It may be asking too much. I would understand if you choose to say no.” Rana’s eyes narrow when hearing my request. She looks increasingly concerned as I continue. “I have to get back into The Caves, but my access is restricted. It’ll only take me a couple of hours to get to the site of the collapse, look around, and come back.”
“Kagen, if they catch you, your punishment will be a lot worse than activity restrictions. You’ll be invited to the Detention Center,” Rana says. She must be really concerned to bring up that place again. Everyone knows of the seldom used facility, but the Detention Center is rarely spoken of by the workers. An invitation is essentially a sentence, but like with many other things, Leadership likes to choose words that seem less dark. I have seen firsthand the effects the Detention Center has on a person, and Rana is well aware of that.
“I owe it to Merrick to find out anything I can about his death. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t try. That would be just as bad as a stay in the Detention Center,” I counter, struggling to suppress the painful memories stirred up by the repeated mention of its name. “The only time I can go is during working hours. There will be way less Leadership personnel out in The Caves then. If I leave at the beginning of lunch, I can make it back well before the end of my normal shift,” I step back to face Rana. “I need someone to cover my patients while I’m gone. If anyone asks, you can tell them I felt ill and told you I was going back to my quarters. That way you won’t be liable if I get caught.”
Rana sighs in resignation. “I see there will be no stopping you with this, so I’ll help. I already rescheduled most of my appointments today because I wanted to work with Adara on Leland’s case, so it shouldn’t be too hard to take care of everything on my own.” She leans forward again. “You realize you could have fabricated an illness and went anyway. You didn’t have to say anything. What made you decide to tell me what you’re planning?”
“I trust you, Rana. Plus, you deserve to know the truth if I’m going to use you for a cover story,” I tell her. A smile creeps onto my face as I continue. “That, and I’m not a good enough actor to fake being sick with you.”
She stifles a small laugh. “Well, thank you for being honest, Kagen. Now get to work. You’re not getting the whole day off.”
The truth is I feel a debt to Rana. She has always been a thoughtful and kind mentor, but our bond has developed further than that. In her younger years she was a driven woman. So much so that she did not marry until she was well into her thirties, which is not a particularly unusual occurrence in Securus. Leadership strongly encourages the workers to master their crafts and focus on the good of the colony over individual desires. Combined with the regulations placed on reproduction because of the lack of space and resources, it is easy to wait so long that fertility is compromised. This
is exactly what happened to Rana.
By the time we met, she had already accepted that she would never have her own child. Through her mentorship with me I think she filled part of the void she felt from her misfortune. Rana has treated me like a son and for many years we have spent more time together in the infirmary than we have with our own families. I have come to strongly value her caring friendship, fierce intelligence, and compassion as a mentor. Because of that relationship, I had to tell her the truth, at least as much of it as I could without endangering her.
*
The rest of the morning passes quickly. There are only routine cases and no unexpected visitors. As my lunch time approaches I search through my cabinets for a change of clothing. Normally, I wear the same uniform throughout the day, consisting of a smoke white shirt and matching pants, both lined with a cobalt blue trim to indicate my primary occupation as a Healer. But with my current intentions, I cannot allow myself to be so easily identified. I find an old set of garments and squeeze into them. They are snug, but the dark coloration will be much less conspicuous in The Caves.
I rush to the lunch hall to get some food before my search. If my timing is right, I can finish lunch and get to the entrance of The Caves just after the Leadership Guards change shifts. The flow of people has barely started trickling into the hall, so there is no wait to get to the food. I pick up my ration of artificial nutrients and make my way to the far end of the hall, wanting to remain inconspicuous.
At the edges of my vision, I notice a slender figure headed for me. I move faster, but the figure continues toward me. She catches up and positions herself next to me as we walk. I look over to meet the gaze of her amber eyes. She whisks away strands of dusty brown hair and gives me a gentle nudge with her shoulder.
“Hi, Kagen,” she says cheerfully.
“Hey, Abira,” I reply.
“Interesting uniform you have there,” she says while examining my attire. Her amusement makes me feel exposed and more than a little embarrassed.
“Yeah, I spilled some chemicals on my regular uniform. My spare is down in my quarters so I had to rummage these from the cabinets,” I tell her.
I have known Abira since we were both very young. We never had schooling together but her family’s quarters are close to mine, so we often cross paths. She works as a Teacher for our younger children. I have always enjoyed her company, but now is not a fortuitous time to be drawn into a conversation. I need to keep this short and focus on the task ahead of me.
Balancing my tray with one hand, I rest the other on her shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Abira. We need to catch up, but I need to change out of these uncomfortable clothes before I lose circulation in my legs.”
We both laugh. Then, she pauses while considering her next words. “Okay, Kagen,” she says meekly. “But before you go, can I ask you about Merrick?”
This is unexpected. She had not spoken with Merrick much, even when she and I were closer friends. But with such a contained living arrangement, tragedy is often shared among most of Securus.
“Okay,” I tell her, finding an empty table to sit for a minute.
“I know you see a lot of crazy things at work, but it has to be hard seeing a close friend get trapped like that. Did you actually see it happen?” Abira lowers her head while asking.
When I hesitate, she looks up for my response. She wears a pained frown and nervously rubs her fingers. It looks like the subject makes her even more uncomfortable than me. At first her question seemed suspicious, but it does not take long for me to feel foolish for being so paranoid. She has been a friend for many years and is simply concerned for me.
“No, he was too far in the tunnel. When I made it to where he was, I couldn’t see him through the rubble. I couldn’t see anything.” My voice lowers to a faint whisper. “And I couldn’t get to him.”
She does not probe any further. “Well, if you need someone to talk to, I am always here.” Abira embraces me with one arm while resting her head on my shoulder.
“Thanks,” I say.
“Well, I’ll let you hurry up and get out of that extra layer of skin you’re wearing,” she says, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.
Abira leaves to go get her own food. By the time she picks it up, I am already finished with mine. I take the opportunity to leave the lunch hall. My direction is toward my quarters to keep in line with my cover story. When I am far from anyone’s sight, instead of following the winding staircase to my floor, I exit one level down and briskly walk toward the stairway that leads to The Caves.
Chapter 8
I am careful to avoid eye contact with others while walking. The stairway in front of me is relatively empty, so my rapid pace does not draw any attention. I reach the access level and slowly open the door. On the other side, a short hallway shields me from the main area around the corner. I slide along the edge of the wall and peer into the room. As anticipated, most of the normal Guards stationed here have already left for their lunch break. The room is about as empty as it ever gets.
The research offices lining the far wall are all empty. Most of the people are in the lunch halls. Now, only two research workers sit in the expansive lounge that lies in shadow of the enormous, retractable steel door. Getting past the impenetrable barrier is my target, but one Guard remains at his station. He stands outside the control room, adjacent to the outer door. At least they still have the lounge set up, I think to myself. Sometimes the entire area is cleared and used as a loading station for importing resources in from The Caves. That would have left me with no cover at all.
The research workers’ conversation becomes increasingly animated. From my hallway the sounds of their words mingle, leaving me unable to decipher the content of their discussion. Whatever they are discussing, it has them completely absorbed. They should pay little attention to me if I walk on the other side of the lounge. The Guard, on the other hand, is alone with his attention unoccupied. Passing him will be more challenging.
My resolve had been unbreakable when forming this idea. As I descended the stairs, adrenaline filled my system and carried me undaunted to this point. Now, faced with my first obstacle, my confidence is not nearly as unshakable. My breathing rate increases as my feet become almost too heavy to move. Before doubt paralyzes me, I force myself forward and attempt to appear confident while strolling through the lounge. As suspected, the research workers seem oblivious to my movements. I quickly walk past them, watching the Guard in the periphery of my vision. He looks out into The Caves, and has not yet noticed me. I sit at a corner table facing outward, careful to keep the Guard in view. From here, I can monitor his movements and wait for an opening while my face is hidden from anyone else that enters the area.
I sit and wait, hoping for the Guard to relax enough for me to sneak out, but he remains watchful. As time passes, my window of opportunity starts to close. I need to do something soon, before the other Guards return or this one recognizes me. I am sure Mr. Vaden informed them of my restriction.
The Guard finally stops watching The Caves, but now he surveys the lounge. His eyes stop when he notices me. I pry out the camera that was secured in my pocket. I hold the two cylindrical pieces and slowly pull them apart, unrolling the flexible screen contained within them. I look down and pretend to study an image, trying to look like a research worker on my break. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him walking toward me. A sense of dread fills me. Unless he believes my impromptu cover, I will be sent to the Detention Center. Then no one will ever know the truth, and I fear my confinement would be more than my mother could bear.
Though I try so vehemently to forget, the thought of the Detention Center causes the circumstances of my father’s death to revisit me. I was too young to fully understand at the time, but old enough to remember. He was a supervising worker in the Deep Vents, one of the main power sources for Securus, along with the Solar Panels. One day, an explosion destroyed a large generator, killing one of the members of his w
ork team. Even though the cause of the explosion was never discovered, my father was held responsible by Leadership. He was invited to a six month stay in the Detention Center. His punishment was made more severe because the loss of the generator was a significant blow to our energy production, which affected the entire colony.
The time he was gone was exceptionally difficult for my mother. When he did return to us, he was not the same. Every night, I would hear him tossing and turning from the nightmares haunting his sleep. Though my father remained distant, as the months passed, eventually he began to break free from his invisible torment. The occasional sparks of his prior strength became more frequent and his nightmares less severe.
Just when there was some hope of getting back to normal, tragedy returned. My father became consumed with investigating the cause of the explosion. He said he wanted to find out what really happened and prevent a recurrence in the future. During his search, another accident occurred. He was scaling some of the large energy generating equipment in the vents when his foothold gave way, sending him plummeting to his death. Since then, my mother hides her sorrow from us. But in her sleep, sadness shows in her face. My mother blames the Detention Center for what happened and for changing my father. The only time she mentions him now is to tell me how much like him I can be.
Until now, I never understood what compelled him to risk his own life in search of the truth. After what happened to Merrick, I finally understand his overwhelming need for answers was not only for himself, but for us all. Madness from his time in the Detention Center is not what led to his compulsion. That same compulsion has led me here to The Caves despite my restriction. It turns out my mother was more right than she knew.
I shake the thoughts from my mind. My focus needs to be on the task at hand. The Guard continues toward me. There is nowhere for me to hide or escape. I feel the depths of the Detention Center calling for me. I plant my feet, preparing to run. As he nears me, a voice calls out for his attention.
The Death Detail (The Securus Trilogy Book 1) Page 7
