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DEEDECK DESIGN
Chapter 7
At first, the cramped quarters were almost impossible to deal with, but once she settled into a little niche with the com unit and contacted the DDEC, Moira was able to ignore her surroundings. Her two escorts, who had reintroduced themselves as Besh (the skinny one) and some unpronounceable name that the chunky one shortened to Connie, took turns leaving the room to scout the motel. This eased their space restrictions somewhat, though she still got a jostling every time one returned and the other left.
She wondered just what they planned to do for sleep, but then shrugged off the question. She didn’t plan on sleeping any time soon. Too much to do and too much to worry about.
The outbreak had gotten worse, spreading from the initial planet and its moons to a second colonized planet in that solar system. Quarantine procedures had not been adequate, and she was deeply involved in quarantine discussions with the DDEC and the system’s officials when the com beeped an incoming transmission. She ignored it, trying to diplomatically explain to the harried governor why transporting goods in and out of the affected area had been a mistake.
“Ma’am, that’ll be the boss,” Besh murmured at her elbow, indicating the waiting light on the com unit.
Sending him a quick, quelling glance, she continued, “Governor, all I’m saying is that the zone has to be closed to any contact.”
“But I can’t just cut them off! They need supplies,” the beefy woman growled, squinting at Moira with ferocious determination.
“Certainly supplies should be sent in. But transports cannot come back out of the zone. Not until I can assess the decontamination protocols—”
Besh touched her shoulder and whispered, “He won’t wait, ma’am. He’ll bust in.”
Shooting him a killing glare that made him edge back with a placating gesture, she ground her teeth and said, “Governor, I have a situation here that I need to address immediately. Please try to keep to the DDEC’s documented quarantine procedures, and I’ll—”
The governor’s round image was suddenly replaced by Coltier’s grim face and narrowed dark eyes. “Don’t keep me on hold, Doc. I need to be able to reach my team.”
“Excuse me for caring about what happens to a million sick people,” she snapped, fuming at his rude interruption. “And don’t give me that crap about reaching your team—you’ve got other ways to contact them. You just don’t like to wait, do you? Well, get used to it, mister. Do not interrupt me again unless it’s an emergency!”
That would have been a good exit line, but she couldn’t get up without mashing Besh into the wall. Plus, she needed to know what Coltier had discovered so far, so she settled for glaring daggers at him.
Her fury was apparently a waste of time. He studied her for a moment with mild humor before he said, “Huh, and here I thought I had a decent poker face. Calm down, Doc, before you blow a vessel. I’ve got good blood pressure, but let’s not test it.”
Taking a deep breath and letting it out through her teeth, she growled, “What do you want, Coltier?”
He raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “What happened to calling me Jax?”
“I don’t think you’d like the names I want to call you,” she said with slow deliberation. “Do you have a reason for interrupting?”
That disconcerting grin flashed again, upsetting her equilibrium. “I need to ask you some questions.”
“You didn’t find any skeletons in my files worth an attempt on my life?”
“Not even a stray bone, scary clean. Not sure you’re human, Doc.”
She ignored the comment, plus the associated humor lightening his eyes and curling his lips. “But I was the specific target. So where does that leave us?”
“Well, if it wasn’t a personal hit, than we need to look into your job. I’m also calling in an outside consultant to do a sweep of the transfer station.”
Moira frowned. “Why? Isn’t the station cooperating?”
He gave her a wry look. “Somebody who knows the tech did the hit. That means anybody who works the transfers is a suspect at this point. Beta 1 says none of their people would do it, but that leaves a security leak that let an outsider get at your TSU. Either way, we need somebody in there who knows the language and tech, and doesn’t have a stake in the outcome.”
“Okay, that makes sense. Thanks for explaining,” she said in as neutral a tone as she could.
His eyebrows rose slightly, and that infuriating ghost-smile reappeared. “Thanks, huh? What d’you know, we might just get along after all, Doc.”
“Don’t hold your breath, Coltier,” she said dryly, and got a flash of that disconcerting, engaging grin again. Trying to stay focused, she continued, “How do you know you can trust the consultant?”
“We’ve worked with him before. Name’s Ben Kreel, he’s got a list of degrees almost as long as yours, and he knows tech lingo. He checks out, Doc.”
“Hmm. So you said you had questions for me?”
He leaned forward, his expression taking on a cool, professional intensity that was both reassuring and disconcerting. “I need to know everything about this job you’re on.”
“I told you before, I’m not authorized to—”
“Than get authorized, Doc. It’s your life we’re talking about here.”
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking away from his dark, piercing gaze. “I’ll tell you what I can. I specialize in infectious disease outbreaks. I’m the DDEC’s liaison, going onsite to assess the situation, contain the damage, and gather the information necessary to stop the outbreak and eradicate the disease.”
“So what’s special about this job?”
“Nothing so far. It’s aggressive and spreading quickly, but I can’t tell you its etiology or even what type of microbe it is. Medical personnel in the zone believe it’s a virus, but I haven’t confirmed it.” She felt again the urgency of the situation and the need to be there, not stuck in this dinky motel in some annoying PI’s body. “Damn it, I need to get to work,” she muttered, rubbing her aching temples.
“We’re moving as fast as we can, Moira. The more we know, the better our chances for wrapping this up in a hurry.” He actually sounded sympathetic, but Moira was too aware of his voice wrapping around her name and refused to look up to confirm his expression. “Was there anything different in DeeDeck’s orders? Anything that stands out about the location or Intel you’ve been getting from the zone so far?”
She shrugged, weirdly aware of how her current broad shoulders moved. “It’s never routine. Every outbreak has its own special aspects, but so far I haven’t encountered anything out of the ordinary for a situation like this.” Finally raising her head, she met his eyes with a grim clench of her teeth. “How soon can I get out of this clone? Have they been in contact with you?”
He held up a finger and leaned to one side for a second, before returning his attention to her with a sour look. “Still waffling. They’ve got diagnostics going on the system, but they’re not giving out the results. Kreel should light a fire under ‘em when he gets there. Trust me, Doc, I know how you feel.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You’ve been in an opposite sex clone before?”
“No, but it’s on my to-do list now,” he said with a teasing gleam in his eye and that almost-smile on his lips. “What I mean is I hate sitting on my hands, too. Not being onsite is driving me nuts.”
She did not want to feel any connection to this man. Being dependant on him for her safety was bad enough, for a woman who was independent by nature and self-sufficient by experience and necessity. And the attraction she felt for him was so not a good idea for many reasons, not the least of which was her current dangerous situation. She couldn’t afford to be interested in her protector, either physically or emotionally. But he was starting to get to her with his sideways charm and his quicksilver smiles.
Taking a deep breath, she was about to change the subject when the room vibrated alarmingly around her. With a squeak, she grabbed at the table.
“What is it?” Coltier asked sharply.
“I’ll go check it out,” Besh murmured to her, as he edged out the door.
The room shuddered again, and she gritted her teeth, looking around wildly. She didn’t see any breaches yet, but the day was young.
“Moira,” Coltier growled at her from the com unit. “What the hell is going on?”
She gave him her best glare, trying to ignore what his rough voice was doing to her libido. “Your cute little motel is trying to fall down around my ears, that’s what,” she growled back at him, annoyed that her growl sounded so much less effective.
“Where are the boys?”
“Out,” she gritted, inspecting the seams of the claustrophobic little room carefully.
“Stay put.”
“No shit,” she retorted, gripping the table with white-knuckled hands. Her chest was starting to feel tight, and she tried to breath deeper. It didn’t seem to help. “Hey, Coltier, what does suffocation feel like?” she asked in a thin, distant voice, ears ringing in an unsettling way.
His vicious curse was her only answer.
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