The Source: Book III of the Holding Kate Series (18 page)

Gregory slipped in the door behind him and watched him bounce up the gravel driveway. That bought about an hour of time. It would take Wallace that long to realize Kim was not meeting him in the cafeteria for brunch.

He began to meticulously scan the area.
Think like a moderately intelligent low level technician,
he told himself. Remembering the scratching penmanship in the journal, Gregory began to form a psychological profile on the man. What could be ascertained of the personality of the man from his neat and orderly handwriting? Tufts of Klingon and Elvish speckled the pages of the journal. He was a Trekkie techie who liked codes and the classics.

It’s here. In plain sight. He would get a kick out of disguising it in the open.
Gregory turned a slow and steady circle as he scanned the room.
There! On the marker board! A group of scratches and marks in the corner. It could just be leftover marks, that didn’t get completely erased.
Greg whipped out his compad again and took a picture, then photographed every inch of the room.

The hum of the cart whirred down as Donnie and Mel rocked to a stop in front of First Cabin. Another cart parked in front of the boathouse.

“That’s not Wallace. I just saw him in the village.” Mel pointed.

“Mel, go inside, lock the doors.”

“No, Donnie, I won’t leave you out here.”

Donnie cast an arched eyebrow to the child growing in her belly.

“Okay, okay,” she relented and ran into the cabin.

Donnie walked up to the cart and glanced inside to see if there was a clue to the person’s identity.

Nothing.

He saw a flash of light in the boathouse, followed quickly by several more. He strode across the driveway and jerked the door open.

Nothing. He walked into the center of the room.

“Hello? Schmitz is that you?”

Nothing.

“Hey,” a familiar voice broke the silence and he whirled around to see Pops standing in the doorway. “Who’re ya talking to?”

“Pops!” Donnie sighed. “Is that your cart out there?”

“Yeah, I told you I would be dropping by to check on things.”

“I saw a flash of light in here.” Donnie scanned the dark room.

“A flash?”

“Yeah.” The computer screensaver kicked on and a flash of bright white came from the monitor.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, maybe. Probably.”

“Hey, Wallace told me you might have some meatloaf left over. I sure could use a sandwich,” Pops chuckled.

Donnie smiled. “Nope, there is never any leftover meatloaf in my house, but I bet we can find something to build a sandwich out of. Come on.”

They stepped out of the lab and Donnie scanned the interior once again, then shut the door behind him.

Gregory crept out of his hiding and moved to the window. He watched as they crunched across the gravel to First Cabin.
Why are people so ready to deny what their senses tell them?
he mused and boldly walked through the door with his compad tucked into his pocket.

A WEEK HAD
passed and Kate still refused to talk to Corey. She continued to send messages through Najwa or Stealthlin or Candol that she didn’t want to see him. He couldn’t believe she wouldn’t even give him a chance to explain.

Corey couldn’t imagine what Trip had said to Kate that caused her to be so absolutely angry with him. Of course, he bore the blame.
I should have woken her that night and told her everything.
Every time he decided to go insist that she see him, some emergency would come up and prevent him from going to her. It felt like the universe conspired against them.

Sick people poured into Spear Cathair every day. The hospital overflowed and as quickly as they died off, two more would come in to take their place. They ran low on equipment and Corey refused to allow anymore jumps out of this place. They had already taken great risk sending the teams back through. Already too much traffic came in and out of this jump site and he didn’t want to draw Gregory’s attention to them. They could make more needles, but the I.V. tubing and bags they’d brought with them were wearing thin. There were only so many times you could particle sterilize plastic. He wracked his brain for an Ampeliagian version of plastic tubing, but could come up with nothing. Even the microscopes they’d brought were showing wear and tear.

Eunavae and Corey spent hours and hours in the lab trying to create a vaccine from their blood. His arms were so marked up that he looked like a heroin addict. Finally, Eunavae refused to let him draw any more of his own blood. She set up a rotation of all of the Cheleuthi and Jewel City team members so they would only have to draw blood once a month.

Manifus and Najwa ran the hospital, cared for patients and their families. Candol and the Cheleuthi warriors worked shifts in the hospital, cleaning, carrying out and burying or burning the dead. It was grueling work and Corey felt so thankful that they had come to help.

Eunavae and Corey hunched over the latest petri dish when Najwa knocked and entered the lab.

“Corey,” her soft voice called.

“Yeah.” He didn’t look up from his work.

“The last I.V. tubing collapsed in the particle autoclave.”

Now he looked up. She held up the ruined tubing, and her face was puckered into sadness. “I have called all the villagers and organized around the clock feeding shifts. We are going to sit the patients up and try to put water into them at least once per day.”

“Thank you, Najwa,” he said, collapsing onto the stool.

Najwa came over and leaned against his back. “We need a cure,” she whispered into his ear, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his shoulder.

Eunavae slowly turned her head to stare at them. “What is this?” she asked.

Corey met her eyes, lost in despair. “What?”

“Why are you letting her—” She waved her hand at them, unable to finish the sentence.

Corey turned and saw what she was referring to and stiffened. Najwa stood upright and glared at Eunavae. Eunavae raised her eyebrow to Corey.

“Thanks Najwa. Let me know how it goes,” he said, dismissing her with a shrug and a wave.

She reluctantly left the room.

“What the friggin’ hell, Corey?” Eunavae spat. “Are you seriously interested in her?”

“What? No!” He frowned. “She is just a friend, a really good friend.”

Again the eyebrow spiked.

Corey’s frown deepened. He didn’t like what she insinuated. “Have you been talking to Trip, too?”

“Well, yeah, we see each other quite a bit,” she said. “Why?”

“Has he told you about me and Najwa?”

“What? Are you kidding me? There
is
something going on between you two?”

“NO!” he insisted. “Of course not.” He slammed a hand on the counter.

“Eunavae! Why won’t my wife even talk to me? Has Trip told her anything?”

“Corey, I don’t know what you are talking about, but if Kate isn’t talking to you, don’t you think you should find out why?”

“She won’t see me.”

“You live together! What do you mean she won’t see you?”

Corey snapped his head up. He just assumed everyone knew that Kate had left him. Najwa said everyone gossiped about it during the combined dinners in the commons.

“Eunavae, Kate left me.” His voice sounded hollow and tortured.

She jumped up and ran to him. “What? When?”

“Over a week ago. She is staying with Candol and St…Stealthlin.” His voice choked on the name. Najwa told him she had seen them together in the woods behind Stealthlin’s house. His heart felt wrecked. After all this time, Kate had fallen back into her wanton ways.

“I just can’t believe it.” Eunavae pressed her forehead to Corey’s shoulder.

He turned to look at her. “Eunavae, what is the difference between my taking comfort from you and my taking comfort from Najwa?”

“That’s easy, Corey. We are family. We have been for more than two hundred years, and I am not trying to get you into bed.”

“Neither is she.”

“Corey! Don’t be ridiculous. She wants you so bad it’s almost embarrassing.”

He couldn’t argue with her. Najwa had practically said the same thing a week ago after she tried to kiss him and he wouldn’t let her. She dropped it though and things went back to a platonic working relationship between them. At least, he thought it had.

He’d felt the attraction spike a few times in the last week, but he’d been so exhausted, it barely registered. He missed Kate and never realized how much comfort he took from their union until it was gone. He needed her, craved her.

“Eunavae, I need to go talk to my wife.” He stood up.

“Attaboy!” She pounded him on the shoulder and bent over the petri dish again.