Reciting bits of poetry and famous monologues from the theater in his mind to pass the time, Doc was rewarded when his ten-minute wait passed quickly.
He stepped out of the washroom and peeked back through the small window into the mat-trans control room. Only a single figure now remained, the other two having retired for coffee and conversation in the commissary two levels up. They’d be gone for fifteen minutes.
Fifteen minutes. An eternity if one knew how to use the time well.
Doc looked up at the warning sign posted above the doorway. In red and black letters on a laminated yellow backing, the sign read: Entry is Absolutely Forbidden To All But B12 Cleared Personnel Or Higher. The word Forbidden was underlined for added emphasis.
“I’d say I’ve regained my former rank and clearance,” he said softly, counting on the masters of the redoubt to not have changed the locking codes for the heavy vanadium steel door. Taking a deep breath and mentally crossing his fingers, Doc punched in the trio of digits for the entry code, tapping first the number three, followed by five and then two. He was rewarded by the door sliding upward silently into a ceiling slot, allowing his entrance. Turning, he reversed the code and the door slid down and locked into a floor groove, sealing the control room from the rest of the complex.
The man on duty turned from a flickering computer screen. He was slight of build and very short, coming in at a height of five feet. He wore wire-rimmed glasses that accented his tanned skin and Asian features. Doc had hoped he wouldn’t encounter anyone he knew, but as their eyes met, he knew his luck had finally run its course.
“Good evening, Dr. Tanner,” Chan said. “Can I help you?”
Chapter Nine
Dawn arrived with the fabulous multicolored beauty of the Caribbean sky.
Before beginning the day, Ryan decided to pay Dr. Silas Jamaisvous a quick visit. In the doctor’s bedroom, he discovered his host was doing a most curious thing, and since it was an action Ryan had never associated with the male member of the species, it made the sight even more unsettling. Once he identified it, the feminine undertones made him wonder about their host.
Jamaisvous was carefully, studiously, meticulously filing his fingernails with a small brown nail file, vigorously rubbing it back and forth in a sawing motion, pausing every thirty seconds or so to look at the back of his hand to make sure the manicure was proceeding as planned.
The doctor was nattily dressed in a similar manner as the day before, now wearing a black-and-gray patterned blazer with a new burgundy dress shirt and narrow black necktie with matching black slacks. The long white lab coat was draped over the back of a nearby chair.
“Good morning, Ryan Cawdor.”
“Morning. Thought I might take my boy and look around the island some today.”
“What a delightful idea! I only wish I could spare the time to come along. Your good Dr. Tanner will be assisting me today with my continuing attempts to use the matter-transfer unit for something besides a glorified ferryboat.”
“What’s the situation outside the fortress walls?”
“Well, the western side of Puerto Rico suffered terrific losses and from what I understand is nigh uninhabitable, unless one enjoys squalor and disease.”
“Rad sickness, I’ll bet. Must’ve been a nuke,” Ryan guessed. He’d noticed upon their arrival in El Morro that the tiny rad counter on his long coat hadn’t Indicated dangerous levels of radiation, but that didn’t mean other parts of Puerto Rico hadn’t suffered from the same radioactive fire that had plagued the rest of the planet.
Pausing to blow on the nails of his left hand, Jamaisvous responded in the negative. “No, Ryan, no nukes. At least, no major direct hits. The island’s trials have been generated thanks to the queen of havoc herself, Mother Nature. Hurricane season used to run here all summer and fall. Storms would develop out in the Atlantic, then wind their way northwestward, sometimes striking Puerto Rico, but as a rule, the island was spared. After the nukecaust, the storms seemed to increase in ferocity and regularity, and Puerto Rico was no longer so lucky. I have suf- fered through two powerful storms myself, but none as deadly as the one that hit the western side.” “So, any dangers I should know about outside?” “In Old San Juan? Not hardly.” “Fair enough. Thanks for the advice.” Exiting the expansive grounds of El Morro by way of the short stone bridge stretching across the moat around the fortress, Dean, Krysty and Ryan went out after his talk with Jamaisvous to look at the sights. In reality, Ryan needed to assess their surroundings, be prepared and familiar enough to move through the area without hesitation, if need be. Besides granting his hearty approval, their host had also suggested they leave as early as possible to avoid the heat of the afternoon.