Civilization

Chapter 2-3

Phylicia Cunningham, of the Cape Cod Cunninghams, was not used to being put off in any way. Quite the contrary, she was used to constantly getting her way. If someone were reticent to tell her something, she’d always had her ways of getting the information she wanted. Some would have labeled her spoiled, but to Phylicia, she wasn’t; rather, she was justly rewarded. True, she had grown up in luxury and privilege, but she deserved that. Her parents had made no demands on her for anything and never inquired what she was doing, even though they had to bail her out of jail more than a few times. Despite her tender years she had been well-versed in the judicial and the d**g and alcohol rehabilitation systems, but had never seen the inside of a cell, thanks to the best lawyers, and judges, money could buy.

Even though they had only been revived for a couple of days, Phylicia had wasted no time in cultivating a couple of the other women who were willing to do her bidding for the pleasure of her company. Seeing one of them, she gave a predetermined signal and the young woman joined her.

“Kimberly, follow that man,” she commanded.

“Declan?” the black-haired ditz asked.

“Yes, I want to know everything you can get out of him.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

Kimberly’s questioning was getting on Phylicia’s nerves. “I don’t care. Sleep with him, if you have to,” she said tensely but quietly.

Ben Palmer, seeing Phylicia whispering intently with Kimberly, came over to Phylicia.

“What are you cooking up now?” he whispered while he grabbed her wrist to keep her close.

“Declan had a meeting with Murdock,” she said tensely, but quietly.

“Yeah, I knew that, so what?”

“He just returned and doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Palmer’s left eyebrow raised in interest: “Do you want me to get the information out of him?” Palmer asked with too much enthusiasm.

“No, you brute, I’ve sent Kimberly to get it from him. If she fails, then I may consider you and your means as necessary. Until then, let go of me,” Palmer quickly released her wrist.

“People going out to talk to Murdock privately is going to be a big problem in a hurry,” Palmer said overloud.

“Keep your voice down, imbecile. I know. Did you find out what Annie Cooper and Murdock talked about?”

“No, she said nothing.”

“Well, it can’t be helped that this place is so open,” Phylicia whispered. “We need a meeting room for the council where we can talk openly. Maybe you could come up with something?”

“I’ll see what I can come up with,” Palmer said with a grin.

Don’t strain anything, Phylicia thought. “You do that and let me know.” She continued to look around and found her other confederate, Heather Stevens, with Roy White, the paramedic. She gave a little sign and Heather came over to her.

“Did you find out anything about the meeting between Murdock and Annie Cooper?” Phylicia asked the other woman conspiratorially.

“Nothing yet,” Heather said quietly.

“Well, stay close to the medicos and report to me immediately if you hear anything.” The woman nodded and returned to the side of the young man.

Phylicia continued to walk around under the transport pod. When she saw Ben Palmer again, she called him over to her.

“Did you find the storage compartments, yet?” she asked the big man when he was standing beside her.

“Not yet. They’re hidden pretty good,” the big man responded.

Phylicia looked to find the ramp, to orient herself, then looked up. There was an obvious panel above them.

“Is that one?” she asked sarcastically while pointing up at the panel.

“I dunno. I’ll check,” Palmer said. He called for a few of the smaller men to come over. He indicated the panel that Phylicia had pointed out and the men immediately found the latch and opened the panel.

“We found one of the storage compartments, sir,” one of the men reported.

I’m surrounded by geniuses, Phylicia thought to herself, frustrated.

While a couple of men cleared people out from under the opened panel, others were emptying the contents of the compartment onto the ground. When one was emptied, they found another and began emptying its contents. This process continued until all the storage compartments had been opened and emptied.

“I want all this stuff inventoried, categorized, and stored in a secure place,” Palmer told his workers.

They all began sorting and categorizing all the contents by use.