Roger nodded. “Makes it feel more…like home.”
Hatcher shook his head as he walked back to his office. “I still have a bad…” He froze and glanced to Candy. “I just hope this doesn’t come back and bite us in the ass.”
“Will has those UV tanning lamp things on the wall.” Roger argued. “If the Zulus come sniffing, they should keep them at bay.”
“We hope.” Candy added. “If not, at least we can spotlight them as we pick them off.”
Hatcher held his hands up in surrender. “You’re preaching to the choir here. I know exactly what our capabilities are.” He sighed as he took his seat. “That’s exactly why I’m so nervous.”
Roger leaned against the monitor bank. “Look Hatch, I understand your concern. We’re taking a huge leap of faith burning the lights at night but remember, we want people to feel like we’re building something here.”
“You don’t have to convince me, Roger.” Hatcher glanced at the monitors, almost expecting a wall of Zulus to come crashing down on the main gates. “I just don’t want to announce to the infected that we’re here and have to deal with them every night. Imagine how exhausted our security teams will be if they’re all hands on deck to defend the walls at night and then have to stand duty during the day.”
“If it comes to that, we’ll look into recruiting others to act as spotters. We’ll train the security personnel to respond quicker.” Candy offered, slipping in next to Roger. “We’ll address whatever comes up.”
Hatcher waved them away. “Go on. It’s been a long day and I’m sure you two have things you’d rather be doing.”
Candy fought the urge to giggle. “You are correct, sir.” She tugged at Roger as she stepped into the hallway. “Come on, big boy.”
Roger gave Hatcher wide eyes and mouthed, “Save me” as she pulled him down the hall.
“Sorry buddy, you’re on your own.” Hatcher kicked at the door, shutting it behind them.
He wheeled his chair to the monitor bank and watched as Candy jumped onto Roger’s back and rode him piggyback to their room. For a fleeting moment, Hatcher envied the couple.
That moment didn’t last long as his eyes were pulled to the monitors mounted on the wall. He stared at the black and white images, expecting the worst at any moment.
“I know you’re out there…show yourself.”
He couldn’t know who he was talking to, the Zulus, Simon, or some threat unknown…but he knew that something was out there. Waiting.
“And all of this is absolutely necessary?”
Carol nodded. “Every last thing on that list is crucial. Mission critical.”
The yeoman sighed heavily and tucked the list onto his clipboard. “I’ll run it up the chain of command but…”
“But what?” Broussard asked, stepping closer.
“It would help a lot if I could explain what all these things are needed for.” He held a hand up to stop them before they began. “We’ll have to send commandos out into the wild to try to find this stuff. If we’re going to commit equipment and personnel to a task out there, it would go a long way if the brass knew what we were risking them for.”
Carol nodded. “We could explain it but I doubt you’d understand.” She paused then snapped her fingers. “What about your ship’s doctor? Surely he’d understand. Perhaps we could talk with him.”
The yeoman shook his head. “He’s actually off-ship making a house call to another vessel. Medical doctors are few and far between so he has to cover multiple crews.”
Broussard nodded. “I can create a summary for you, written in layman’s terms. You could use that to convince your brass, oui?”
The yeoman nodded. “Yeah, that would help a lot. If you can write it to where I can understand it, I can explain it to the officers.” He blushed slightly. “I’m not saying they’re stupid, just…stretched a bit thin. I doubt they’d give it much consideration unless someone explained it to them.”
Broussard nodded and sat down. “Simply tell them that we need these materials in order to create a cure.”
The yeoman’s eyes lit up. “Cure?” He glanced at Carol. “As in…a real cure?”
She nodded. “The easiest way to explain the mechanics is that we need this stuff to genetically modify the virus. We render it inoperative; suppress it, basically. People will still carry it, but it can’t do anything to them.”
Broussard interrupted. “And if we have all of the materials on the list, we can re-infect the infected. The new virus will take over the genetics of whichever strain they carry and they become asymptomatic, that is, for all intents and purposes, they will appear well.”
The yeoman shook his head. “Okay, you lost me, but I definitely heard the word cure.” He looked to both of them. “You did say cure?”
“We did.” Carol stepped forward and pointed to the list. “But we need this stuff.”
The yeoman smiled broadly and reached for the door. “I’ll take it straight to the skipper. I’ll have word for you as soon as I know anything.”
The two researchers watched as he practically ran down the hall. Carol turned to Broussard and gave him a worried look. “We CAN do this, can’t we?”
Broussard nodded slowly. “With your help, and our grocery list, I am certain of it.”
She sat down hard in her chair and blew her breath out, gathering her thoughts. “It would be nice to see green grass and trees again.”
“Oui, ma chère.” He patted her shoulder. “Until we hear from them, let us double check which sequences we know will do the most damage.”
Carol slid her sleeves up. “Back to the grindstone.”
“Hey, boss. You might want to come see this.” Shooter called from upstairs.
Simon groaned to himself and took one more long pull from the near empty whisky bottle. He stood at the base of the stairs and peered into the shadowy darkness. “What is it, asshole? My knee is acting up and I—”
“You gotta see this.” Shooter appeared over-anxious and waved at
