“All soldiers
scheduled for transport to the Farallon Platform, please report immediately to
Portal One for departure,” a loud speaker announced as Graham, Charley,
Peggy Lee, and Ian walked quickly down a narrow hallway.
Thirty seconds
later, they stood on a high metal balcony overlooking an enormous warehouse filled
with stacks of boxes and equipment. Graham
explained: “The Hub, as this room is
known around here, is the main supply depot for all of the facilities.”
Three large
decontamination chambers labeled D.C. One, Two, and Three, were connected to
the Hub. Each chamber could eliminate
all mold spores from incoming hover transport vehicles in less than a minute. The large metal doors to D.C. Two and Three stood
firmly closed that day. The door to D.C.
One, however, was open. Soldiers carried
stacks of supplies into the chamber and loaded them into a large hover
transport vehicle parked inside.
“No time like the
present,” Charley said, turning toward the two flights of open, metal stairs
that led down to the Hub’s floor. Ian adjusted
his camera bag and followed right after him.
“Graham,” Peggy
Lee said quietly, gently grabbing his arm.
“Can I have a word?”
“Of course.”
“Did you get a
chance to check the weather reports for tonight?” Her hand lingered on his forearm. He reached over and placed his own hand
softly on hers. The hustling buzz of the
Hub below seemed to disappear entirely.
Her skin was soft and warm, as he knew it would be.
“The seas are calm
and the winds promise a relatively quiet night,” Graham said. “It will only take about fifteen minutes to
get out past the fog curtain from the Farallon Platform. So we can spend as much time as we like out
there.”
“Great. I’m so looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” Graham said, his heart about to burst.
###
When they got down
to the bottom of the stairs, a soldier escorted Peggy Lee to a nearby changing
room. Graham, Charley, and Ian entered a
separate room filled with old-style gym lockers and benches. A cart piled high with hazmat suits sat at
the end of the room. The three men
stepped into the padded, white suits, and pulled the tops up over their
shoulders, keeping their street clothes on underneath. Graham grabbed his gloves and stuck them into
his helmet. “You ready, Ian?”
“Yeah, sure,” Ian
answered.
“Charley?”
“Ready, sir.”
A soldier approached
them when they reentered the Hub. “The
hover transport is fully loaded and ready to go. The pilot and the two escort soldiers are
aboard already, as is Ms. Swenson.”
The soldier held
out a clipboard holding various forms, which Graham quickly signed.
After entering the
transport vehicle through the rear hatch, Graham walked down the narrow center
aisle to the front row, where Peggy Lee sat.
She had already put her helmet on and was looking straight ahead, out
the cockpit window. Graham touched her
shoulder gently, startling her. When she
looked up at him through her helmet’s visor, he noticed beads of sweat on her
forehead. He disconnected her helmet and
pulled it gently off her head before sitting across the aisle from her.
“There will be
plenty of time for the helmets. I
usually wait until we’re completely ready for departure before I put mine
on. Obviously, my soldiers did not show
you the climate control feature. Here,
see this keypad.” Graham turned Peggy
Lee’s forearm over. “The blue arrows
cool you off and the red ones heat you up.
There is never any need for heat, but the air con sure is nice. Okay?”
“Thanks. I was starting to wonder how I was going to
make it through the next few hours.
Ian moved forward
through the cabin, selected the seat behind Graham, and lurched into Graham’s
seat-back as he pulled his camera bag off of his shoulder. “Sorry about that,” he said, dropping into
his seat.
“No problem,”
Graham answered reflexively. It was the second
time that morning that Ian had banged his bag into him. Graham held his tongue, but silently wished that Ian would just leave him alone with Peggy Lee.
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