Tag: Brenda Redmond

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Narrative

A Tidbit of Good News

“Some of the dirtside solar astronomers are thinking this CME is just the first of several, based on some satellite data on the Sun’s magnetic field behavior. I spoke to Dr. Doorne this morning and she doesn’t think any subsequent ones are likely to hit the Earth-Moon system. However, she added the caveat that she is a radio astronomer specializing in deep-space objects.” Ken Redmond looked from Brenda to Autumn. “I wish I could offer you ladies something more solid, but right now that’s all we have to go on. Which means that we’re going to have to remain prepared for the possibility of additional solar storms, maybe for the next two to three weeks. I’ve already ordered conservation measures to stretch supplies of consumables that we can’t produce locally, against the possibility of a complete shutdown of spacelift capacity for the duration.”

“A wise precaution,” Autumn averred. “If you think I should make some kind of general announcement–“

Ken gestured for her to hold. “I’d want to run that by the skipper first. The radio station’s getting to be our public face to the whole solar system, and as messed-up as things are getting down on Earth, we need to be careful how we present things.”

Autumn might have a good professional voice, but her skills at controlling her expression weren’t nearly at the level she’d need if she were doing video as well as audio. No, she wasn’t happy about getting told that Captain Waite should approve of any public announcement.

However, Brenda could definitely see it as a sensible measure. Her dad was right about Shepardsport Pirate Radio being the settlement’s public face to three worlds. And he’d been an Air Force officer back during the Energy Wars, so he’d be thinking in terms of opsec, of not giving the other side any information about one’s weak points. Brenda had grown up with her dad’s war stories, while Autumn had grown up with a black-matted photo on the mantle and a name on the Wall of Honor. Not to diminish Lucien Belfontaine’s sacrifice during the NASA Massacre, but it just didn’t give her the same perspective.

No, Autumn didn’t like the feeling that she’d just had her wings clipped, but she had to be aware that a goodly segment of the population around here put great store in astronaut lineages. She couldn’t very well be seen to disrespect the most senior member of the her father’s lineage in the settlement. For starters, she needed to maintain Spruance Del Curtin’s respect, and she couldn’t help but be aware that Brenda had married into the Shepard lineage.

Brenda was glad she wasn’t the one having to make a statement of agreement on the subject. Not that she was goingt to try to buck her father in his own domain, but it was still a very awkward position to be in.

After that, it was just a matter of winding down the conversation, a few parting pleasantries and taking their leave. The Chief of Engineering still had a lot of things he needed to take care of before that CME actually arrived and drenched the Moon in charged particles.

As Brenda walked back through the corridors of the Engineering department, she pulled out her phone and was surprised to find several texts from Drew. They must’ve all come while they were talking, and she hadn’t even noticed her text chime.

Unless one or another app had screwed up the audio again and she needed to reboot. However, from the worried tone of those last couple texts, it would probably be better to respond first and reboot only if Drew wanted to do an actual voice conversation.

Sorry, sweetheart, but I was talking with Dad about the CME that’s coming in. What’s going on?

Drew must’ve had his phone right beside him, because the text went from “delivered” to “read” in a few seconds. Moments later the “writing response” icon came up.

I wish you’d let me know you needed a neutral party to contact a friend dirtside. I know half a dozen people up here who wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow from the worst clone-phobes, and who’d be glad to do me a favor.

As soon as Brenda read that, she realized she should’ve thought of asking her husband. As a pilot-astronaut and an Air Force officer, he had a lot of connections.

Sorry, I guess I just didn’t want to bother you with my worries. You’ve got a lot on your plate already.

And you’ve got reason to be concerned that an old friend is in a dangerous situation. Just send me her e-mail address, her phone number, whatever contact information you have on her, and I’ll see if some of my friends can get things happening.

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Narrative

Sidetracks

Brenda Redmond had intended to go straight to her father’s office in Engineering. However, she’d been thinking about what she needed to review for the upcoming test in her current training course, the force of long-standing habit had led her to turn the other way, to the radio station.

It was only when she was opening the door and stepping in that she realized her error. Her face flushed warm with embarrassment as she recalled more than one time when her parents had made a wrong turn, automatically heading toward school instead of their intended destination.

No big problem, she told herself. This was after hours, and the only person who’d be here at this hour would be the DJ. Right now it was the disco show, and Spencer Dawes tended to stay in the DJ booth his whole shift.

Just as Brenda was about to step back out and close the door, she realized the light was on in the newsroom. Not just the usual telltales on the life-support monitors which were just part of living in a habitat where everything down to the air they breathed had to be provided and maintained by sophisticated technology. No, someone had the overhead lights on in there.

Maybe she’d better take a look, make sure the news crew hadn’t forgotten to turn the newsroom lights off when they left for the evening. Her dad had been grumping lately about that kind of carelessness, and how it was affecting the settlement’s heat and energy budgets. With an incoming solar storm that might require powering down everything unnecessary, she’d probably better check, rather than hope that Spence would notice.

She hadn’t even gotten to the newsroom door when a familiar voice called out, “OK, who’s out there at this hour?”

The flush of embarrassment returned to Brenda’s cheeks. “Just me.”

Might as well go on in and see what Autumn Belfontaine was doing. Otherwise, Autumn was going to wonder what she was doing poking in and then disappearing, and would probably have awkward questions tomorrow morning.

Or worse, she’ll come over to Dad’s office and ask.

Autumn Belfontaine was sitting at the main newsroom computer, and from the what Brenda could see at her angle, there was a bunch of data on the monitor. It looked like something from one or another of NASA’s solar observation satellites, from the headers, but she couldn’t see without being obvious about it.

She looked up from her work. “So what brings you down here at this hour?”

Brenda essayed an awkward grin. “Dad and I were going to talk privately over at his office, but I’m so used to coming here that it was like my feet just walked me over here.”

Autumn’s laughter was genuine, not just professional courtesy. “I could tell you a few stories about that myself. And speaking of your father, I was planning on speaking with him myself. Having near-realtime data is nice, but I simply don’t have the background to interpret it, and Dr. Doorne’s got enough projects on her plate already that I really don’t want to take any more of her time than I have to.”

“And Dad’s got the engineering background to tell you what it’s going to mean in terms of operational effects for us and the outlying settlements. At least Earth shouldn’t get hit too bad, since the magnetosphere should offer some protection, but it could get rough up here.”

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Of Memory and Time

At this hour, Ken Redmond’s office was a quiet place to get a little privacy. Although Engineering was a department that ran 24/7, most of the routine work was done during normal daytime hours. That meant the evening staff was fairly small and he wasn’t apt to be interrupted.

Right now he was looking over the latest data from the SOLARIS solar observatory satellite system. The solar astronomers were still in disagreement right now on what exactly the data represented, but all of them concurred that space weather would be unsettled and quite possibly dangerous for the next several days.

It was bringing back memories he hadn’t thought about in years, of being in first grade and riding home on the bus, listening to some of the older kids talking about the strange heavy feel to the air, how they were certain a bad storm was brewing. He’d gone home and turned on the TV to watch his usual after-school shows, and hadn’t thought anything about it until the power went out.

Only later had he discovered that over a hundred tornadoes had swept through the Midwest. His own home town of French Lick had been lucky, but there had been a period that day when the entire state of Indiana was under a tornado warning because the weather forecasters simply couldn’t keep up with all the incoming reports. In the weeks and months that followed, he’d read a lot of accounts of what came to be called the Super Outbreak.

It had been another time, frightening mostly because it was the first time he became truly aware of what a big and potentially dangerous world he lived in. Only a few months the Watergate scandal had been the first political event to impinge upon his awareness.

And wasn’t that about the same time as everyone was so concerned about the Swine Flu, or was that a few years later?

It was odd, how time and memory could play tricks with the mind. Sometimes all of that seemed like another lifetime ago, and at other times he could remember a day, an event as if it had happened just yesterday. The bus making its way down that long, lonely country road, up and down the limestone hills of Southern Indiana, the windows opened to let in a bit of breeze to relieve the hot, muggy atmosphere electric with tension.

But then he’d been just a little kid whose biggest worry was being one of the smallest kids in his class, and how he kept getting picked on by the bigger kids. Now he had the responsibilities of being a father, a grandfather, and of holding one of the senior leadership positions of this settlement.

And right now there’s not a lot we can do about our situation except keep our heads down and hang on.

Which was why he hadn’t wanted to talk more than he had to about the situation with Brenda while they were in the gym. The current situation was precarious enough without people worrying about further solar storms, possibly requiring intermittent shutdowns of surface activity over the next week or more.

At least he knew he could discuss the matter with her in private and be confident she wouldn’t go spreading a confused version of it all over the settlement. She would never have stayed a DJ with Shepardsport Pirate Radio if she couldn’t be relied upon to handle such information responsibly.

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Narrative

The Calm Before the Storm

Brenda Redmond recognized the quiet tension that had taken over Shepardsport, the hushed voices and watchful looks. She’d seen it during hurricane watches back in Houston, and the tornado watches when she’d stayed with her grandparents in Indiana one summer. That awareness of elevated risk, balanced with a knowledge that life had to go on in the meantime, and necessary work would not wait.

It had hung over her all afternoon, as she did her best to keep her mind on class, on her teaching responsibility. Keeping a tight focus on the task at hand had enabled her to push the worry out of her mind, but now that it was exercise time, all those thoughts were crowding back in.

Maybe she would’ve had an easier time if she’d been assigned one of the machines where you were supposed to count your reps. Instead, she drew a stationary bicycle, which was purely timed exercise.

By the time she finished her cool-down and changed back into her regular clothes, she was trying to decide whether she should sit with her radio friends or with the other pilots’ families. And then she heard a familiar voice call her name.

“Hi, Dad. Don’t you usually have a later exercise slot?”

Ken Redmond’s lips quirked upward. “I switched with Harlan. I want to be on deck when that CME goes through the Earth-Moon system.”

No matter how busy you might be with work or training, mandatory exercise hours were non-negotiable. If you needed to, you could swap time slots, but unless illness or injury had you incapacitated, you made your exercise hours.

“How bad is it going to be?” As soon as Brenda said it, she realized just how shaky her voice sounded. Not exactly the professional voice of the DJ.

“Right now it looks like we should just barely catch the outer edges of it. We’ll probably have to power down surface equipment, but otherwise it should be business as usual down here.”

Except his voice suggested a but at the end of that superficially confident statement. Brenda looked closely at her father. She wasn’t that strong on solar astronomy or engineering, but she was pretty good at reading people. Maybe not as sharp as Autumn Belfontaine or the rest of the news team, but with someone she knew as well as her dad, she could pick up the unspoken stuff.

However, now was probably not the best time to come straight out and challenge him on it. Especially if he was downplaying real concerns in order to keep from alarming people, he’d want a little more privacy than the settlement gymnasium to discuss it.

“Would there be a better place to discuss this?” She cast a meaningful look around at the people sweating away.

Her dad got that little thought-furrow between his eyebrows. “Can you come down to my office after supper?”

“I’ll need to make sure I have someone to watch the kids, but I think I can swing it.”

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Narrative

At Table

Although in theory only the pilots’ tables and the Medstaff tables were reserved for the exclusive use of particular groups, people still tended to sit with those they had something in common with, whether friends, family, or colleagues. Brenda usually sat with her children, but today they were eating with their training groups, so she was sitting with some of the other DJ’s. Not that there was a formal “radio table,” but she’d noticed several other people passing them by, even when there were empty seats.

Because who wants to sit here and listen to us talk shop and not understand half of what we’re saying.

Brenda could understand the feeling, since she wasn’t all that strong on the technical side of streaming Internet radio herself. Lou Corlin was talking about some issues IT was having with the streaming server. Nothing critical, nothing that would disrupt transmission, but still something that was obviously of concern. However, a lot of it was going over her head, for the simple reason that she wasn’t an IT specialist.

And it looked like she had some company. Sprue was trying not to look overwhelmingly bored, but he wasn’t doing nearly as good a job of it as he thought.

Recalling something Drew had mentioned, Brenda caught his gaze. “So how are things going with the new project of yours? Did you finally get to talk to Chandler?”

Sprue’s expression became awkward. “I’m not really supposed to be discussing it in a public place like this.” He extended a hand to encompass the dining commons, the crowd of people sitting at the tables or moving between them. “But Chandler did have a few ideas for things we might want to look at. You know, ways of analyzing data to tease out a little more meaning.”

He said “we.” Is he finally figuring out what it means to actually work as part of a team, or is he just saying that because Dad or Dr. Doorne put the fear of God in him for a change?

However, there was no time to ponder it, let alone ask any probing questions. Right then Captain Waite came in and took his place at the head table. Except he didn’t sit down to eat. Instead, he addressed the crowd: “If I may have your attention, I have some important announcements to make.”

Brenda’s gut clenched with anxiety. What was going on now?

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Like a Watched Pot

Waiting was always difficult, but it was particularly hard when you had no idea of how long you might have to wait. Especially when there was no guarantee that you’d find any kind of results at the end of your wait.

Brenda Redmond remembered how much she’d hated that situation when she was a kid growing up. At least when the endpoint was known, she could make the wait go more quickly by marking off the days as they passed. The days until the school year ended. The days until a much-anticipated family vacation or a big launch. Even just the days until she reached some milestone that enabled her to enjoy one or another privilege. She needed only to look at the calendar and she could see the number of days remaining shrink.

But when you had to wait until you reached some achievement that Adult Authority refused to spell out, lest you put more effort into faking the outward markers than mastering the actual skills, it was super-hard. Or like she was stuck right now, waiting for someone else, over whom she had no control, to get something accomplished that would open a gate she needed to pass.

So far there’d been no word from Medlab, or from whoever they’d found to try to make contact with Robbie. And given that this person was doing her a favor, she didn’t want to be a pest about how they were coming on it.

Which meant there was nothing she could do about it right now. She’d learned from prior experience that the best thing to do in these circumstances was to keep busy with something that would take her mind off it.

And having the kids talk with Daddy was always a good way to raise everyone’s spirits. Drew had texted her earlier, letting her know that the solar storm watch meant he’d probably be staying down at Coopersville until the mass of charged particles had passed.

A storm that was likely to disrupt communications between settlements as well as with Earth. Perhaps not as badly with Coopersville, since they were connected by fiber-optic lines run alongside the tracks of the Ice Train, but even its repeaters could be knocked off-line if things got hairy enough.

The kids had loved talking to their father, even on the other end of a FaceTime connection. And they’d even headed to bed without any great resistance, for a change. Which meant now she and Drew could talk more privately.

“So how are you doing?” Drew leaned back a little, assuming a more relaxed pose.

“As well as I can. The kids are doing fine, Mom and Dad are OK, although they’re both working their butts off. I’ve got my work and my teaching to keep me busy.” Brenda tried to infuse her words with an enthusiasm she really didn’t feel right now.

Drew nodded, that slow bob of the head that was his way of saying, yeah, right, what are you really thinking behind the good-military-wife mask? “Yeah, ain’t that about the size of it. Keep on keeping on.” Then he leaned forward, lowered his voice in that conspiratorial tone he would use when he was saying it’s OK to tell me whatever’s bothering you. “I’m hearing rumint that you’re trying to track down someone dirtside.”

“Just an old friend from high school.” Brenda considered how much she wanted to tell Drew about Robbie’s situation. Minimize too much, and Drew would tell she was trying to gloss over her worries. Tell too much, and he’d be worrying about her when he needed to concentrate on his work. “We’d grown apart, so it’s kind of complicated. Right now I’m waiting for a neutral third party to contact her and make sure she’s all right and I won’t make things difficult for her by trying to contact her.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good situation.”

“No, it’s not. Which is why I’m trying very hard not to worry about her while I’m waiting.” Brenda wondered whether Drew still kept in touch with any of his friends from school. He’d been sent up here when he was all of fifteen, when he’d gotten entangled in the Angry Astronaut Affair.

Probably not, since he didn’t seem to want to reminisce. “Probably a good idea. Especially considering you need to be alert tomorrow for your air shift.”

“True. Especially if that solar storm watch turns into a warning and we start having to give radiation reports every half-hour.”

After that there was nothing more to say but words of parting. And then looking at the grayed-out FaceTime window for a moment before pressing the Home button.

Yes, Drew was right. She needed her sleep. From the sound of things, they were looking at a long day tomorrow.

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Disappointment

At least we’re doing this privately. Brenda Redmond still felt like a kid called to the principal’s office, sitting in Dr. Thuc’s private office in the back recesses of Medlab.

The older woman gave her a sad look, the sort Brenda had come to associate with an authority figure who had expected better of you. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring her concerns about Robbie Sandberg’s situation here to Medlab.

At least you didn’t drag Lou Corlin or his family into it. As far as anyone here will know, you came here entirely on your own initiative, based on your friendship with Robbie.

“Ms. Redmond.” Dr. Thuc kept her voice level, professional, even if her eyes could not quite hide her attitude about the situation. “I have looked over the information you gave Dr. Gorman. I agree that it is concerning, but there are very strict standards for what qualifies as cause to believe that a person is in immediate danger that justifies what would normally be a breach of privacy. After talking with the judge advocate general at Grissom City, we’ve agreed that there simply is not enough evidence in this one brief and admittedly disorganized message to conclude that we are dealing with a situation that involves actual risk of domestic violence, as opposed to teen angst about difficulties with adult authority.”

Brenda swallowed hard. No. I will not burst into tears. I will not sulk or pout. I will not behave like a thwarted child. I’m a grown woman and I have a reputation to uphold, as a mother, as an Air Force officer’s wife, as a DJ at Shepardsport Pirate Radio.

But she could feel her lower lip wobbling, the tears of frustration welling up in the corners of her eyes. Dammit, it was so unfair, that some bureaucratic hoop she couldn’t quite get through was making it impossible to find out whether Robbie was safe, or if the very act of trying to contact her could put her at risk of her parents’ irrational hatred of clones.

She took a deep breath. It required a major effort of will to force her voice into the professional tones she would use on the air while reporting a solar storm warning. “Then what evidence would you need to see?”

Was that the hint of a smile on Dr. Thuc’s lips, a shadow of regret? “You know I can’t tell you that, Ms. Redmond.”

Brenda had expected that answer. Given the situation, her question could very well be interpreted as, what do you need to see so I can fake it? never mind that she’d actually meant how can I present the evidence better?

However, Dr. Thuc wasn’t finished speaking. “However, it may be possible to arrange for contact to be made by a neutral individual, someone who is less likely to arouse the ire of her parents. If that enables us to ascertain her situation, we can determine how to proceed.”

“Thank you.” The words sounded so forced that Brenda felt she had to repeat them, to try to get some genuine emotion in them. “Thank you so much.”

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Routes Forward

As soon as Brenda Redmond received the text from Dr. Thuc, she could tell it had to be bad news. I need to talk to you, stat. was not a good sign.

Could she be in trouble, just for asking whether it was possible for anyone in Medlab to check on Robbie’s location? Although she hadn’t considered her inquiry unreasonable, old memories lingered from childhood. She’d caught two teachers in a row who were very close to retirement, and who had rather old-fashioned notions about the proper bounds of children’s curiosity. Both of them also considered public humiliation an excellent aid to memory.

But there was no time to dwell upon the past, not when she needed to focus on the present situation. Which meant finding the necessary fortitude to present herself at Medlab, mentally prepared for whatever response she received.

At least this message hadn’t come through in the middle of her air shift at Shepardsport Pirate Radio. However, receiving it while she was supposed to be helping teach a class was awkward in its own way. No, her senior teacher was not pleased that she should be summoned away, and clearly considered it to be something she’d brought down upon herself.

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Difficult Situations

It’s a good thing we’re still in readiness mode right now, Dr. Barbie Thuc thought as she went through her documents. There’s no way I could deal with the administrative stuff if I were also having to deal with a flood of patients in Medlab’s limited facilities. Which makes it absolutely essential we make sure our quarantine procedures remain rock-solid.

At least Autumn Belfontaine’s question had been easy to deal with. Dr. Thuc had heard some rumint about the Russians making some headway on the genetic front — not surprising, given the huge emphasis the Soviet Union had placed on their secret genetic engineering programs during the Cold War. However, as of now she’d heard nothing about any success in that area.

Best to counsel caution, to suggest that nothing be said publicly until they had information from a source they could rely upon. While maintaining a hopeful attitude was important, raising false hopes could actually do far more harm to morale by ending in a crashing disappointment when they proved unfounded.

Thankfully, Autumn had been in complete agreement. Another person, especially someone with close friends or family back on Earth, might have been more eager to grasp at straws. But Autumn was also a professional news reporter, and had a strong sense of her responsibility to the facts.

On the other hand, Brenda Redmond’s request was not going to be so easy to deal with. Dr. Thuc had to admit her own sympathies in the matter. The e-mail from Brenda’s old high-school friend was alarming. Just reading it left Dr. Thuc with a sense of terror bordering on panic, and the fact that Brenda had received no further contact from Ms. Sandburg was concerning.

However, those facts did not constitute hard evidence that Ms. Sandburg was in danger, to the point that it became licit to seek privacy-covered information about her whereabouts. Not exactly news that Brenda was going to want to hear.

And Brenda had inherited her dad’s scrappy temperament. Just how likely would she be to try to argue her case when told no?

She is the mother of two young children, and the wife of an Air Force officer. If we were dealing with family, there’d be more cause for concern, but I don’t think she’d do anything rash for an old friend she hasn’t spoken with for years.

Still, it would be wise to break the news in person, where she could judge the younger woman’s reaction, rather than via phone or text. And talk to Steffi Roderick down at IT, just in case there were some possibilities she’d overlooked.

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We Must Do Lunch Sometime

Brenda Redmond found it strange to be coming up to the dining commons without the children in tow. Almost as if she were naked.

But both of them were having lunch with their training groups today. It wasn’t an every-day occurrence that lessons ran over and they had to have a meal sent to their classrooms, but it was rare that both her children would on the same day.

No use worrying about it. She’d gone to lunch alone a lot of times when she was single. Even if she did still live with her folks, both of them had jobs that tended to make it difficult to eat lunch as a family. Heck, half the time Dad had been so busy he couldn’t even get away from Engineering for supper.

Things had settled down as the settlement had expanded its life-support capacity to handle all the Expulsees with a comfortable margin of error. But by then she’d married Drew and tended to sit with the other pilots’ families, and once the kids came along, she’d gotten used to eating as a family, reminding the kids of their table manners when they’d rather play with their food and goof off instead of eating and freeing up the seats for the next person.

As she was walking through the dining commons in search of a free seat, she heard a familiar voice calling her name. She walked over to join Lou Corlin. “You must’ve made good time up here.”

“The Timeline Brothers showed up early, so we got most of the handoff done before it was actually time to sign off. That and I got lucky at all my airlocks.” Lou helped her into her seat, a gallantry that seemed like something out of a movie. “So how did it go?”

“Gym went fine. I think we’re finally getting a handle on the wear and tear on the equipment, especially now that the new gym has room for three times the amount of machines. Right after the the first wave of Expulsions, Dad was complaining that Fitness shouldn’t be so astonished they were having constant problems when their machines didn’t even get any down time for preventative maintenance.”

Lou lowered his voice. “Actually, I was wondering whether you learned anything at Medlab.”

“Yeah, right.” The words came out awkwardly and Brenda could feel her cheeks grow warm. “I talked with Dr. Gorman, and he did seem to take me seriously. But he said he’d have to pass it to someone with more authority, so right now I’m playing the waiting game.”

Lou commiserated. “Do you want me to let Toni know now, or would it be better to stand pat until we actually know something?”

Brenda considered that question. “Maybe tell her we’re hitting some delays, but don’t make a big deal of it. She’s pretty high in the IT hierarchy over at Grissom City, so she’s probably got a lot of stuff to keep her occupied as it is.”

Lou allowed that she was probably right, and shifted the conversation to something more neutral. The table was starting to fill up, and it was inappropriate to carry on a conversation about private matters in front of others.