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Narrative

Just a Friendly Warning

Being the daughter of the settlement’s Chief of Engineering had its perks, but there were also times when it could be difficult. Like when he takes you aside for a “little talk.”

Brenda tried not to avoid her father’s gaze. “Honest, I was just making conversation with Sprue yesterday evening. Especially since we both work at the radio station, I couldn’t exactly ignore him.”

Ken Redmond gave a curt little nod. “We’ve talked about the importance of discretion in your line of work.”

“Dad, please, I know all that.” Brenda hoped she wasn’t coming across as a whiny little kid, but she just wished he’d let it go. Quite honestly, there wasn’t that much she could’ve told Sprue. She was vaguely aware that the news department was seeing a lot of stuff that wasn’t getting passed to the DJ’s, and at least some of it was getting passed up from Medlab. She’d overheard Autumn Belfontaine talking with Dr. Thuc, and that halfalogue did not sound like someone receiving good news.

But how could she tell him without looking like she was telling him gossip? Or worse, looking self-serving?

Maybe it was just as well to promise to be more careful in the future — and to watch and listen a little more closely to what was going on in the news department. Sprue was right — whatever this business was, it was big, and someone was very interested in keeping a lid on it.

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Narrative

The Balloon Goes Up

Normally Spruance Del Curtin looked forward to his air shifts. He’d even warned more than one instructor that he was not to be held over if it were going to interfere with making his air shift.

However, the last few days had been getting annoying. How many times could you keep repeating announcements about standard sanitation protocols after every set before it started sounding ridiculous? Not to mention how people were really starting to wonder what was going on. It was getting annoying to go down to the dining commons, or any public area for that matter, and get peppered with the same damn questions, especially since he didn’t have any answers for them.

At least the messages were pre-recorded, so it wasn’t like he had to read a card off a monitor. Or worse, a hand-written note, like Ken Redmond had given him for a couple of emergencies.

The current set was coming to an end, so he’d better check which one was lined up for this commercial break and station identification.

As he did, the door opened and in walked Autumn Belfontaine. She was cutting it fine — two minutes more and he would’ve been on the air.

She didn’t even say hello, just sat down in the second chair. Whatever was going on, asking her would not be a good idea.

The moment the last song ended, Autumn began to speak. “This is Autumn Belfontaine, news director at Shepardsport Pirate Radio. We have important breaking news, just in from the South Pacific. The United States Navy reports they have responded to a distress call from the cruise ship Glorianna, off the coast of Papua New Guinea. Initial reports indicate that crew and passengers were stricken with illness several days after completing a visit to Bangkok.”

Even as Sprue admired her calm delivery, his mind reeled at what he was hearing. He’d heard stories about illness spreading on those giant floating cities, but it was usually an intestinal bug that meant a few days of utter misery, but no great danger to any but the frail elderly or people with prior health conditions. Usually because someone was careless about what they ate and drank at some Third World port of call, and got sick just in time to infect everybody.

This sounded like something far worse. Which made him really wonder about all those public service announcements he’d been having to run for the past several days. How much had the higher-ups known, and for how long?

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Narrative

A Meeting of Import

Autumn Belfontaine didn’t know when she’d gotten into the habit of counting the airlocks as she went from one part of Shepardsport to another. However, it had become a useful way of marking her own progress on any journey of significant distance. Go from one sector to another and you went through an airlock. Go between modules within a sector and you went through more airlocks.

From the radio station offices to the commandant’s office was eight airlocks. Since there was no need to wait for pressure to equalize, it didn’t take all that long to go through them, but there’d been trouble with people overriding the safety interlocks to get through faster, never mind it defeated the purpose of having the settlement modularized.

She arrived to find Captain Waite already in conference with Dr. Thuc, Shepardsport’s Chief Flight Surgeon. From the sound of it, telling the kids to keep a lid on it had been the right thing to do.

As a civilian, Autumn didn’t have to formally report to the commandant upon arrival as pilots did. All the same, the various courtesies helped to smooth the difficulties of life in such close quarters.

Reggie gestured for her to take the other seat. “We’ve got a problem on our hands.” He turned to Dr. Thuc. “Barbie?”

“I’ve just received alerts from both Jerusalem and Tokyo about an emergent disease in multiple places in Central and South Central Asia. I’ve queried Star City, and they’re telling me they’re waiting for a report from Academician Voronsky before making any definite announcement.”

A sudden chill gripped Autumn. Nikolai Voronsky was the Russian Empire’s foremost expert in genetic engineering, having learned from his adoptive father, the notorious Vladilen Voronsky. If Star City was getting him involved…

Autumn forced her mind to stay focused, professional, remember what she’d learned about contagious diseases from reporting on that nasty flu during her first full-time job. “What kind of figures are we looking at?”

“Right now information’s pretty spotty. Hardly surprising when a lot of those areas are still held by die-hard fanatics, and the ones that aren’t have governments notorious for corruption and misinformation. But even in the absence of hard data, the anecdotal reports are concerning, in particular the ones of whole villages empty, the goats and chickens wandering freely.”

“That’s not good.” Autumn tried to remember any mention of such things on the news wires. “Why haven’t we heard anything about this until now?”

“Actually, there has been a fair amount of discussion over the past few weeks, if you’ve been following the medical blogs.” Dr. Thuc’s expression darkened. “That’s where I got the stories about abandoned mountain villages. Why none of the official sources have been mentioning these things is hard to say. The local governments may well be covering it up rather than look weak. It may not be considered newsworthy elsewhere, or there may have been a decision to keep quiet rather than risk panic.”

“Understood.” Autumn recalled a journalism ethics class. “The ’76 Swine Flu outbreak was before my time, but we still study the effects of careless reporting on the reaction to it.”

She paused, considering not just the information she’d been given, but the spaces between. “If this is going to be something serious, why isn’t the head of Safety and Security here?”

Reggie jumped in to answer that. “Right now she’s dealing with a problem down in the port facility. As soon as that’s dealt with, we’ll be briefing her. But right now, we need to work out a plan for how we’re going to release information on this situation, so you can lay it out to the rest of the station personnel.”

Autumn fought down an urge to bristle. No, there was no criticism of the professionalism of the DJ’s, just the need to make sure they had a coordinated approach. “Completely understood. The worst thing we can have is contradictory information coming out of different sources. Once people start wondering who’s lying, they lose trust in all sources.”

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Narrative

Like a Distant Storm on the Horizon

As soon as Lou Corlin stepped out of the DJ booth, he was glad he’d just finished lining up a long set. Their news director had just emerged from her office, phone stuck to ear and a worried look on her face.

“I’ll be right up there.” Autumn Belfontaine paused, a thought furrow forming between her eyebrows. “No, I’m not going to tell anyone until I get up there and have a chance to talk to you. We need facts, not rumors and speculation.”

Finished with her conversation, she looked over at Lou and the receptionist, who had been bent over a tablet, apparently studying for a class. “We’ve got a developing situation, and Reggie wants to talk to me right now. You two hold down the fort while I’m gone.”

Although Lou wondered what would require a visit to the settlement’s commandant, he kept his professional face on. “Yes, ma’am.”

Not quite in unison with the receptionist, since she’d gotten surprised, but good enough. And then it was just the two of them.

Lou looked at Cindy, then at the flimsy partitions that walled off the station offices. Unlike the studio proper, the office area was most decidedly not soundproof. Which meant that he’d better watch what he said. “Looks like things are going to get interesting.”

Cindy twirled a stylus between her fingers. “It sounded like something bad’s happening. Like when they had the cyber-attack on the landers over at Slayton Field kind of nasty.”

Lou remembered that day. He’d just been finishing up his air shift when Autumn had come into the DJ booth and practically pushed him right off the mic. Even her trained professional-journalist voice had betrayed a hint of breathlessness as she reported the crash of the first lander.

And even then we thought it was just an accident.

“I think we’d better be very careful right now.” Lou cast a sharp look at the phone at Cindy’s elbow. Not her personal phone, which was lying beside her tablet, but the official station line. “Until we get definite word otherwise, our face to the outside universe is business as usual. In the meantime, I’d better grab my coffee break before this set runs out and the boss yells at me about having dead air.”

“Got it.” Cindy returned to her studying. Technically she wasn’t supposed to be studying during her work hours, but with the station manager off to Grissom City for some kind of training class, things had slacked up.