At first Autumn Belfontaine wasn’t sure whether Brenda Redmond was avoiding her, or if it was just her imagination. By the second newscast, she was certain of it.
Yes, Brenda was unfailingly polite and professional in her every interaction. But there was also a certain closedness about her manner that made it clear that no, she wasn’t looking for casual conversation.
And just yesterday she specifically wanted to talk to me about what her husband had told her.
Even as Autumn recalled their conversation, she realized that might be the reason Brenda was so tense and closed-in today. Maybe she really wanted to know what Autumn had found out, but didn’t want to ask and put her in an awkward spot.
Having been raised in Minnesota, Autumn could appreciate that reticence. And given what information Brenda had entrusted her with, Autumn could understand the eagerness for news.
Which I don’t have at the moment. Autumn had sent some cautiously worded e-mails and texts to old friends dirtside, but so far she hadn’t gotten any responses. Given the chaotic situation down there, it was quite possible that the recipients simply weren’t able to reply, for any of a various number of reasons.
Especially if someone is descending a cone of silence over the whole affair, whether for opsec reasons or to shield agencies from embarrassment for letting part of Chicago effectively become a miniature failed state.
Sitting at her desk in the newsroom, Autumn considered who else she might be able to ask. There was a certain amount of risk involved in discussing these sorts of things, given that one had to assume that any e-mail or text might be read, any voice communications might be recorded. Although she felt reasonably confident that she was on good terms with command and Security, she certainly didn’t want to do anything that could get Drew Reinholt into trouble. Especially considering that he was over at Slayton Field, and Grissom City’s commandant was tight with the Flannigan Administration.
The door opened and in walked the program director. “Just got some good news from Engineering. They’ve got the main board completely rebuilt, and they’re bringing it over now.”
“That’s wonderful.” Even as the word were out of Autumn’s mouth, she wondered if she would wind up sounding sarcastic instead of excited. “How long has it been now that we’ve been making do with the remote broadcasting setup?”
“Long enough that I’ve stopped wincing every time I hear the DJ’s come on. I’d never realized just how much lower the sound quality was on that thing.”
“And according to what Ken said when this whole thing started, they’ll have to go over it with a fine tooth comb as soon as the new main board is back online. The remote broadcast system was never designed for continuous use, and we don’t want to discover that it needs a major overhaul just when we want to use it for an important event.”