For the last several days Drew’s e-mails and texts had been brief to the point of curtness. Brenda had resolved not to take their shortness as a personal slight. Given the situation, he probably had a lot more stuff on his plate than she did, and right now she had a heck of a lot.
So she was surprised when her phone chimed incoming text, and not only was it from Drew, but it was also long enough that only the first two lines were displayed on the lock screen. Just wondering whether you’d had a chance to find out anything about….
Which was just enough that she had to swipe to open, and everything else could just wait.
Just wondering whether you’d had a chance to find out anything about what’s going on down at Schirrasburg. We’re getting a new round of rumors around here.
Brenda moistened her lip, considered whether to tell her husband about her and Lou’s abortive efforts. Might as well give him the gist, but leave out some of the awkward details. A friend and I took a look at Schirrasburg’s Internet activity. We were hoping we might be able to find out something, but everything’s encrypted super-tight. The only thing we do know is that the patterns of data transfer are atypical for them.
Not surprising. These days, most everything goes over encrypted connections, even if it’s not actually confidential material, just to prevent man-in-the-middle attacks.
We’ve talked about that at the station. Especially with the political situation, it’s completely plausible that someone would create a fake radio station and redirect traffic to them.
When Drew didn’t respond, she wondered if he was trying to decide how to respond without casting shade on the Commander-in-Chief. Maybe better shift the conversation away from the awkward area.
So what are you hearing over there? Or can you tell me?
Don’t spread it around, but we’re hearing that it was diablovirus, and it went through the whole settlement in spite of their going on strict lockdown. Everybody confined to quarters, everything delivered by robot, no interpersonal contact at all.
Brenda considered that information. Of course if it was just a rumor, it might not indicate anything at all. But if there were facts under it…
How well is the air filtered over there? If there are straight-line connections between rooms in the HVAC ducts, confining everyone to quarters wouldn’t make any difference, especially if the virus is airborne. The life-support systems would just blow it right from one room to another.
You’d have to ask Engineering, and right now communications are official channels only. But from the times I’ve visited there, they have the standard modularized design, so it’s not like they’ve got the air blowing through the whole settlement. But if there’s not filters at every room, I could see how a virus could blow from one apartment to another in a residential module. Which does not bode well if the rumor is true that nothing would stop it until it burned itself out.
Brenda shivered as if caught in a sudden breeze. It took a moment to get her hands to stop trembling so she could type.
No wonder they’re keeping such a firm lid on it. No way do you want to have that kind of thing circulating.
She started to write more, then thought better of it and backspaced, then started again. Maybe we’d better wind this conversation up.
Probably. I still have a report I need to write, and it’s not getting any earlier. Take care, and keep your eyes and ears open.
Will do. Brenda closed her messenger app, intending to get back to the work she was supposed to be doing. Five minutes later she realized she was still sitting and stewing.
By conscious effort of will she put away her phone and turned her attention back to her laptop.