Pia and the Skyman

Chapter 2-2

Back in the air-conditioned car, glaring morning light subdued by tinted windows, she set cruise speed to maximum and turned her thoughts from Sami to the forthcoming meeting with the prison administrator. It had been relatively easy to organise a visit to the complex, but she would need her wits about her when dealing with a senior security officer. She pondered his experience with medical matters and whether he would insist on accompanying her to the medical dome. In spite of the cool environment, perspiration beaded her forehead as distance diminished and she experienced a strong desire to turn around. Only the promise of a future with Sami kept her heading north.

As the car approached the prison complex gates, a camera emerged from an opening box fitted to the top rail, swivelling on the end of a stalk like a single cactus flower blowing in a desert wind. Kela waited for the flash, making sure to look straight ahead. Subsequently, an electronic voice emanating from the car’s communicator granted her permission to enter the complex, indicating her identity had been verified. The gates swung inwards and she drove at low speed up a gravel path to an area marked with numerous parallel lines of white rocks, as though the inmates were expecting a rush of visitors. She parked close to a set of glass doors, behind which a trooper could be seen sitting staring at a monitor.

The doors slid open as she approached and the trooper, almost reluctantly it seemed to Kela, raised his head and slowly got to his feet.

‘Greetings, Professor,’ he said, ushering her inside. ‘Please follow me.’

She returned the greeting, pondering the absence of other staff; several stools were visible behind a counter at the rear of the foyer. The young trooper led her to the right of the counter and down a long corridor, at the end of which a red light band pulsed around a door panel. To the left of the door, beneath a sound-grill, a light strip illuminated the words ‘Administrator Jurt’.

‘Professor Kela to see you, sir,’ the trooper advised, bending slightly to address the sound-grill.

‘Welcome, please enter,’ a deep male voice replied.

The door panel opened as Kela turned to the trooper standing behind her. ‘Thank you for escorting me.’

‘My pleasure.’ He smiled and stomped back down the corridor, his boots ringing on the polished concrete floor.

The long narrow chamber Kela entered was sparsely furnished with a white work-module at the far end and several cream-coloured chairs positioned around a small table close to the right-hand wall. The walls were pale and devoid of decoration, the lighting dim, and the man who rose to greet her seemed out place in such an insipid environment with his florid complexion and flaming red hair.

‘Greetings, Professor Kela,’ he said, walking towards her, his left hand extended.

‘Greetings, Administrator Jurt,’ she replied, placing her bag on the floor before taking the proffered hand.

‘I trust your journey from the train terminus wasn’t too onerous,’ he said, a half-smile playing around his generous red mouth. ‘That so-called super-path is appalling.’

‘I’ve seen worse, sir.’

‘Please, call me Jurt, we can dispense with formality within this chamber.’ He gestured towards the chairs.

She smiled. ‘And please call me Kela.’ She bent to pick up her bag.

‘Allow me.’ Stepping forward he grasped the strap with tapering white fingers, then deposited the bag beside the nearest chair.

Sinking into the low chair, Kela was surprised to find it more comfortable than it appeared. Beside her, Administrator Jurt leaned forward and, lifting a small jug from a tray on the table, carefully filled two tumblers. ‘Orange and ginger,’ he remarked, handing over a tumbler. ‘Most refreshing.’

‘Thank you, Jurt.’

Sipping the juice, she listened carefully as he commented on the file she had submitted a week earlier outlining her research project and the need to trial the new drug as soon as possible. Jurt had accepted without question her choice of the desert prison complex for the trial despite the presence of a juvenile detention centre within a short distance of her workplace. When permission for the trial had been granted without the usual delay, she’d wondered if he felt isolated out here with only troopers and a few administrative staff for company and relished the thought of someone new. She was well aware family or partner quarters were not available for prison staff in remote areas, regardless of rank.

She finished her drink, noted his attention was now focused on her breasts and deduced he had contemplated a brief affair. If he had read her personal file, he would have known her age, which by her reckoning was at least twenty years less than his. Dismissing speculation, she began to address the question of the new drug’s side effects, stressing the odds, albeit slight, of lasting health problems.

Jurt considered this for several minutes, pale blue eyes half-closed, long fingers bunched into a fist beneath his jutting chin. ‘I appreciate your candour,’ he said finally, opening his eyes and looking directly into her face. ‘It’s rare to find a researcher prepared to admit there could be a risk.’ Smiling, he uncurled his fingers and smoothed the dark blue tunic over fleshy thighs. ‘However, I don’t foresee any post-test recriminations. My prisoners have forfeited any right to, shall we say, humane treatment.’

Kela nodded. ‘I do have one request, Jurt.’

‘And that is?’

‘I realise the majority of your prisoners are males but it would be helpful if I had access to some females. It’s important my research is gender balanced.’

‘Of course. I can easily arrange for some females to be brought to the surface.’

Kela smiled. ‘A mixture of Asian and Brown-skins would also be most useful.’

Jurt scratched his head. ‘No problem with Asians but I’ve only got five female Brown-skins at present.’

‘Five will do.’

He leaned back in his chair. ‘Good, then I suggest we adjourn to my private quarters for a meal. You must be hungry after your long journey.’

‘Yes I am, the food on the train was appalling.’

‘It usually is, but I can assure you this prison administrator eats well.’

Kela smiled and bent to pick up her bag.

‘You can collect that later.’ He jumped to his feet. ‘I’ll escort you to your chamber after the meal.’

‘Thank you.’ She followed him to the door, which opened silently as they approached.

Late that afternoon before the prison population awoke to another night of labour, Kela made her way to the medical dome, situated a short walk from the main building. Just before reaching the entrance, she deliberately tripped, sending her communicator flying from her hand. It landed on a ridge of sand blown against the wall near the door. After regaining her balance, she stepped off the path and made a show of searching for it. With her back to the path, she quickly unfastened her bag, extracted Kaire’s phial and filled a syringe. Bending down, she injected the contents into the mortar between the bottom two rows of concrete blocks. In her practiced hands, the syringe took only seconds to refill, so she shifted a few metres to the right and repeated the procedure. Then she reached out, collected communicator and bag, straightened up and walked back to the entrance.

After keying in the code supplied by Administrator Jurt, the door panel opened and Kela stepped into a cool chamber with beds lining the curved windowless wall. Only one bed appeared to be occupied, while in the centre of the chamber, a solitary medical worker slumped in a chair in front of a screen.

‘Greetings,’ Kela said in an officious tone.

A head jerked upright, hands grasped the chair arms, and the young man struggled to his feet. ‘Er, greetings,’ he answered and, taking note of her doctor’s robe, quickly raised his right hand level with his shoulder.

‘Professor Kela,’ she announced, ‘and you are?’

‘Medical Worker Yohan.’

‘Well, Medical Officer Yohan, no doubt you’ve been briefed on the drug trial so I won’t bore you with the details.’

He nodded and gestured towards a door panel between two beds at the rear of the chamber. ‘The doctor’s chamber is through there, Professor.’

‘Thank you, Yohan.’ She swept past him in a cloud of lightweight cotton, a supercilious smile on her lips.

Towards midnight, an assorted group of fifteen prisoners were brought to the surface and given a thorough examination at the medical dome before being injected. After a brief rest, they were returned below ground with a warning to report any unusual rashes or other health issues occurring over the next few nights. While Kela waited for the expected side effects, she kept herself busy in the doctor’s chamber, studying the prisoners’ files. At night’s end, she dined with Jurt in his private quarters, acknowledging his overtures with coy remarks and the occasional touch of her hand, but on returning to the guest chamber decided to seal the door panel, at least for this first day. No knock on the door roused her from sleep, so she presumed Jurt was content to proceed slowly.

After seven nights, three young Whites, two males, one female; two middle-aged Asians, one male, one female; and the five Brown-skin women recently arrested in the border villages had been admitted to the medical dome. The remaining five participants in the drug trail remained unaffected, Kela having injected them with saline solution only. Throughout the week, she kept Administrator Jurt informed as each patient presented. None were seriously ill, so he didn’t feel it necessary to visit the medical dome until the seventh night when an urgent message flashed on his communicator.

Kela was bending over a patient when the entrance door panel opened and Jurt strode into the chamber, startling Medical Worker Anue, engrossed in administrative work at the computer.

‘Greetings, Administrator Jurt,’ she called, rising quickly and walking towards him.

Jurt grunted a response as he kicked off his lightweight boots. Anue stepped to one side, bowing her head as he passed.

Kela met him halfway across the chamber. ‘Greetings, Administrator Jurt. I do apologise for interrupting your meeting but I felt it imperative you see the new patients before the day medical worker begins his shift.’

‘No need to apologise, Professor, I appreciate the need for caution.’ Jurt turned to a nearby shelf and grabbed a pair of disposable footwear.

Kela stood aside while he pulled the tight socks over broad feet and thick ankles. ‘I had thought the adverse reaction was confined to females,’ she continued once he had straightened up, ‘but the latest three are male, one White, two Asian.’

He frowned. ‘Same symptoms?’

‘Similar, although blistering is confined to the abdomen this time. Come and take a look.’ She led him over to an older Asian, who lay on his back, a sheet covering the lower half of his body. His abdomen was covered with red blisters.

Jurt moved closer to the bed, took a quick look and stepped back a pace. ‘Any pain?’

‘A little, sir,’ the man answered in a submissive tone without turning his head.

‘When were you first aware of these blisters?’

‘Two nights ago, sir.’

‘So why did it take you forty-eight hours to report it?’

‘I thought it was something I’d eaten, sir.’

Jurt nodded and turned to Kela. ‘Show me the next one.’

She took him to a bed opposite where a young White man lay propped on several pillows, his forehead wet with perspiration and bright patches shading pallid cheeks.

‘This one has a fever as well,’ Kela advised. ‘He was brought in an hour ago. Apparently he collapsed in the tunnel leading to the mine.’

Jurt glanced at the man’s abdomen from a safe distance. ‘Were you on the way to or from the mine?’ he asked the patient.

‘To, sir.’

‘Then we can eliminate dehydration,’ Jurt remarked to Kela.

‘Certainly. And there’s no sign of toxic ingestion.’

Jurt signalled Kela to move away from the bed. ‘How are the women responding to treatment?’ he asked in a low tone.

‘No change in seven, three show slight improvement.’

‘Inform the day medical worker the new cases are allergic reactions to food,’ he said quietly. ‘We don’t want to alarm staff unnecessarily.’

Kela nodded.

‘And come to my chamber when you’ve finished here, we need to discuss this matter in private.’

‘Of course, Administrator.’

They crossed the chamber to the entrance, Anue hurrying over with Jurt’s boots as the door panel opened.

‘Thank you, Medical Worker Anue,’ said Jurt, removing the socks and dropping them on the floor before taking the boots.

‘Goodnight to you, sir,’ Anue answered with a slight nod of the head.

Jurt pulled on his boots and walked away briskly. As the door panel closed behind him, Anue scowled, picked up the soiled socks and, holding them at arm’s length, deposited them in the nearby bin.