“Does he brush his teeth?” said Ramsanjawi.
“Before darts? Yeah, and after, too.”
Roberts went on to explain how he had poked a pinhole in the accordion door of O’Donnell’s compartment so he could time exactly how long O’Donnell kept his lights on before retiring. But Ramsanjawi wasn’t listening. He had heard enough to realize that O’Donnell led a very rigid life within the patterned rhythm of the station. It would be frightfully easy to knock him out of sync.
“Can you bring me his toothpaste?” said Ramsanjawi, interrupting Roberts’s discourse.
“Sure,” said Roberts, fighting the impulse to ask the reason why. He did not want to know, he told himself.
2 SEPTEMBER 1998
TRIKON STATION
tingo maria, Peru (AP)—A Peruvian Army helicopter crashed while spraying the herbicide Spike on cocaine fields in the upper Huallaga River Valley. The helicopter pilot, three Peruvian antinarcotics policemen, and an attache from the United States Drug Enforcement Agency were killed.
An official at the American Embassy in Lima has confirmed that the helicopter crashed after being hit by a surface-to-air missile fired by Shining Path guerrillas. The Shining Path, a fanatical pro-Maoist guerrilla group, has protected coca growers from Peruvian and American military strikes in this coca-rich valley since the mid-1980s. It has been estimated that Peru contributes 75 percent of the world’s coca leaf production and that 75 percent of Peru’s overall production is grown in the upper Huallaga valley.
This helicopter was the third to be lost while attempting aerial application of Spike. The first crashed after being disabled by machine-gun fire in December, 1996. The second was destroyed by a SAM missile last March. DEA officials have conceded that the aerial herbicide program has been a failure.
In June, 1996, a combined force of coca growers, drug traffickers, and Shining Path guerrillas overran the highly fortified Santa Lucia base on the edge of the valley. This base, a combined effort of American and Peruvian antidrug forces, had been used as a springboard for eradication efforts since
1989. Two hundred people, including all 150 Peruvian and American base personnel, were killed in that battle.
—Newsday, 31 August 1998
It was worse than Lance thought it ever could be.
It was like there were two people inside his head. Just like the stories he used to see on video in Bible school when he was a kid: a good angel and a bad devil both talking to him, telling him what to do.
He knew that Carla Sue was bad, a temptress, evil. He knew he should have nothing to do with her. But he could not stay away. It was as if there was some power in his body that moved him no matter what his good angel told him.
Maybe I’m bewitched, Lance thought. Like Samson.
Talking with Freddy had been no help at all. Freddy just laughed at his fears and told him, “Forget about all that Sunday School crap, man! Nail her while she’s hot for you.”
Each time he saw Carla Sue he meant to tell her that he was finished with her; he wasn’t going to touch her or even talk to her again. Each time his resolve disappeared in an explosion of animal lust.
Becky will never want me now. She’ll know. She’ll sense it as soon as she sees me.
Still, he headed for Hab 1 the instant his shift was finished, looking for Carla Sue. He knew that her shift should be over, too. This time he would really tell her. Definitely. As soon as he saw her he would end this agony once and for all.
Kurt Jaeckle was in the corridor. Lance hung back, watching. Jaeckle floated right to Carla Sue’s door and tapped gently on it. No response. He slid the door open a crack. Lance started down the corridor toward him, fuming to himself. He’s not going to bother Carla Sue again. Not ever. Jaeckle looked over his shoulder and saw Lance approaching.
Both men felt flustered. Lance stopped himself a few feet before Jaeckle, his face set in a hard frown.
The scientist backed away from her door a bit. “Um, do you know where Carla Sue might be?” he asked.