Damage Control

by Gordon Savage

  The pain started easing right away, and I drifted off into dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 4

  “We’re all still shaken after witnessing this incredible disaster. Duncan Reid’s teleportal experiment blew up not only taking him but also nearly twenty of our colleagues and an unknown number of curiosity seekers outside.” [The camera panned in on the anchorman, Douglas Marienthal, tears streaming down his face.] “The explosion took out the entire block.”

  – Nine O’clock News – Channel 12

  Day 2, 6:00AM

  When I awoke, it took me awhile to remember where I was and what I was doing there. Looking up at the painted blue sky, I remembered – the hospital. Then I was startled by someone getting up from a chair beside my bed. Lying on my back I could only guess his height. He was maybe five eleven, and a healthy lean. Clean shaven and his brown hair neatly combed, he was wearing a dark blue business suit. His face showed some age, perhaps in his fifties. He looked familiar, but I didn’t remember who he was right away. Then my memory clicked: my boss, Dr. Frost. “Boss?”

  His concerned look turned to a smile. “You look terrible,” he said.

  I knew he was trying to lighten the mood. I almost laughed, but it set me to coughing again. The pain brought more tears to my eyes.

  Frost waited, looking concerned again. When the coughing subsided, he held a plastic cup with water and a straw for me. After I cautiously swallowed a couple of sips, he put the cup aside and sat down. “Well, Pederson, you just used up one of your nine lives. Before it turned your taxi over, the explosion shattered the driver side windows. The hit you took from the flying glass and debris beat up your left side. Fortunately, your jacket absorbed a lot of it. Otherwise, you would really have been hurt. You have some nasty bruises and scratches. Apparently you weren’t wearing your seatbelt.” He looked quizzical.

  “I was getting ready to get out of the cab,” I whispered, trying to avoid another coughing spasm.

  He nodded understanding. “Also, the doc says you inhaled some of the brick dust, which is why you’re coughing.” He picked up the cup. “Here, take another sip,” he said as the straw touched my lips. “The nurse claims it’ll take a while for the swelling in your airways to go down. I’ve got to hand it to you, that was one close call.”

  While he was talking, a nurse had walked in and was scanning the readouts on the monitor. Finally she leaned over to check my bandages, and I got a good look at her. She was wearing bright, flower patterned scrubs over a petite figure. I guessed she was maybe five four.– Yes, I know, at five eleven myself I’m painfully aware of other people’s height. Her blond hair was cut short, and her face was scrubbed clean of makeup. She looked me in the eye before speaking. “Hi, Samantha. I’m Virginia. You seem to be coming around nicely. Dr. Nazary will be here as soon as he’s finished looking at your x-rays.”

  Almost on cue an athletic looking doctor strode into the room. He looked up from his computer tablet, and said with a noticeable Texas accent, “Hello Ms. Pederson. I’m Dr. Nazary. And before you ask, I’m not related to the football players, at least not closely.”

  He put his tablet down and signed into the computer on the cart. When he had pulled up an x-ray on the screen, he turned the monitor so I could see it better. He talked me through a series of images. He finished with “You were extremely lucky. I don’t see any breaks. However, you were unconscious for a while, so I am concerned you might have a concussion. I’m going to do some simple tests to get a feel for whether you have one and how serious it is.”

  He ran through a series of questions that I answered with whispers and continued for a few minutes with several other tests. At last he set his tablet down and said, “Very good. You were a little slow in places, but you don’t seem to be showing any significant problems. Do you have any questions?”

  The explosion drifted back into my thoughts, and it hit me. “The driver,” I cleared my throat. “Is he ok?”

  He saw my expression and added a reassuring smile. “He’ll recover.”

  A wave of relief washed over me. “And how long have I been here?”

  He looked at his watch. “About ten hours.”

  Whew. Thank goodness. I was afraid I’d been unconscious for days.

  He picked up his tablet. “Any more questions?”

  Those had been the only questions I could think of worth asking. I shook my head and immediately regretted it. Pain slashed through my head, and I thought I was going to lose the airline snacks I’d had on the flight to DC – if there was any food left in my stomach after being in the hospital overnight.

  Nazary smiled slightly. “It’ll probably be easier to give me a thumbs up or down instead of moving your head.” Got it. Thumbs-up.

  Frost shifted in the chair. “I need to ask her some questions. Is it alright for her to talk?”

  Nazary considered that. “I don’t see why not, but try not to tax her voice.” Glancing at me, he said, “I’m going to raise the head of your bed a little at a time. If at any time the pain becomes severe—okay, more severe than it is right now—and you want to stop, give me a thumbs-down.” I gave him a thumbs-up.

  Being in a sitting position actually made me feel a little better, but I was listing to the right. Nazary and Virginia helped me get to an even keel. “Is that okay?”

  By now, despite the persistent pain, my head had almost cleared. I gave him another thumbs-up. Before Frost could question me, I asked the doctor in a scratchy voice, “I do have one more question: how soon can I get out of here?” and started coughing again.

  He didn’t respond right away. “It’s hard to say. Your injuries don’t appear to be serious, but we definitely want to watch you overnight. We’ll know better tomorrow. Any other questions?”

  I can’t say that staying overnight was disappointing since I didn’t feel much like moving. I turned my thumb down.

  Nazary addressed Frost, “She needs her rest so please make it quick. Let the nurses station know when you’re through.” Then he and the nurse headed out the door.

  Frost watched them leave and then swiveled in his chair to look directly at me. “I didn’t know you were in town until security called and said you were in the hospital. Why in Heaven’s name were you outside that warehouse when it exploded?”

  I gave Frost the best answer I had. I could still remember the chill I got when we heard Reid was going to open his portal. “As I told you on the phone yesterday … It was yesterday, wasn’t it?”

  He nodded, and I continued after taking another sip of water. “When the ‘Wormhole Trio’ and I heard Reid’s announcement, we went into panic mode. He had to be stopped before he opened the connection. It might be catastrophic.”

  Frost went gray. “Apparently, you were right…”

  Thumbs-down. I rasped, “Maybe, but that explosion was a lot more powerful than all the scenarios we came up with … except one.”

  “How so?” His face continued to look grim.

  “If there was a reaction between matter and antimatter, the energy release could only be where the two universes touched each other. Since there would have been nothing but air on either side and very little time for the two atmospheres to intermix, very few matter and antimatter molecules would actually annihilate each other, maybe enough to vaporize the portal and close the interface. Certainly not enough to demolish a brick building or a whole block.” I hesitated. “A chain reaction that fed energy into the interface and held it open would be another situation entirely. That would probably consume both Earths. We’re still here, so that didn’t happen.” I couldn’t help but cough again.

  He looked concerned until I stopped and sipped some more water. Then his face relaxed. “Perhaps the heat was enough to ignite the building materials.”

  I agreed that might be a possibility. The building probably had aluminum framework, and aluminum does burn when exposed to a hot enough flame. But something didn’t feel right about it. After all, the building was made of br
icks and the aluminum could only be a small part of the structure. I shrugged, grimacing as my bandaged left side complained about the movement.

  Frost looked at his watch. “Considering what you’ve been through, you look like you’ll survive, and I need to get back to work. I’ll check in on you tomorrow. You’re going to need clothes. Can I bring them for you?”

  I nodded and croaked out, “I didn’t bring anything with me. I expected to be going to my condo after I talked to Reid. You know where it is. My bedroom should be obvious. It has the National Geographic photo from Apollo 8 over the bed. Underwear, jeans, and a long-sleeve shirt. The shoes I brought should be okay. If Kitt”—My roommate, Kathryn Foxx’s parents had nicknamed her Kitt—“isn’t in, Charlotte across the hall has a spare key,” and I gave him Charlotte’s apartment number.

  He scribbled it down and stuffed it in his pocket. “Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Stay out of trouble.”

  I would have laughed if I could. Instead, I saluted. He nodded at me as he walked out.

  Chapter 5

  “The death toll from Monday night’s explosion has risen to 42 with an additional 30 injured, most critically. In addition to the news crews, dozens of people had assembled outside Mr. Reid’s lab to be present if any of the aliens from the other universe would come across to visit. Here’s an interview with one of the onlookers by our own … late Bob Vanderbilt”

  – AM in DC, Five O’clock Edition – Channel 12

  Day 3, 4:00AM

  From the cab of the second truck in the convoy I am watching the lead truck with a sense of foreboding. Dwayne is in it, and we’re thirty klicks out of Kabul on a dusty dirt road. The dust seeping into the cab is making me cough. The scene begins swimming around me, but it snaps back into focus as I watch a ball of flame and smoke lift the lead truck into the air and wrap it in fire. NO! Horror engulfs me. Dwayne is in there!

  Now I’m standing outside the remains of the truck. Someone is holding me back as two marines drag Dwayne out of the flames. Why won’t they let me go to him? Then I see his charred face and the bleeding stump that had been his right leg. One of the marines says, “He’s still alive.”

  The other says, “A helo is on the way.”

  I scream and struggle to get free, but the hands hold me back. A voice says, “Wake up, Samantha. Wake up.”

  The dream faded. Dazed, I took a few seconds of confusion to get back to the reality that I was still in the hospital bed. A nurse was holding me down by both arms. I started crying uncontrollably. It had been only a dream, but it felt so real. It was the same one I had for weeks after that terrible day Dwayne died, and it was too much like what had actually happened that day.

  The nurse relaxed her grip on me. “Are you okay?”

  I couldn’t speak. Raw emotion was tearing at me, but finally I was able to compose myself enough to signal a thumbs-up.

  The nurse took my hand. “Reliving the explosion?” She clearly meant the one I had just survived.

  “A different one,” I managed to choke out, the memory still raking me.

  “Who’s Dwayne?” she persisted. I wondered if she was trying to help me purge what had upset me so much.

  The pain I felt from that horrible event was greater than the pain from my injuries. It hurt so much I could hardly speak. I swallowed hard and said, “He was my fiancé a long time ago, when I was in the Marine Corps.”

  She released my hand. “You were calling his name before you started screaming. Do you want to talk about it?”

  The memory twisted a knife in my gut, but I plunged ahead. “His truck hit an IED in Afghanistan. I was there when it happened. He died on the way to the hospital.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She turned away with her eyes glistening and looked at the monitor. “Do you want something to help you get back to sleep?”

  I wryly croaked, “Do you have something to keep me from dreaming?”

  She shook her head. “That hasn’t been invented yet.”

  “In that case I’ll pass, but thanks.”

  As soon as she left, I closed my eyes, and surprisingly drifted back to sleep.

  ◆◆◆

  Day 3, 6:00AM

  When I woke again, it was nearly six in the morning. My work partner, Jack Kirton, was standing at the end of the bed. “Good morning, sleepy head,” he said. “I dropped by to see how you were doing before I headed to the office.”

  “Dropped by, huh? This place is thirty miles out of your way.” I knew he was taking more than an hour of his time to be there. Still, it sure felt good to see him. His job at the safe house had been so trivial that when he came back to DC to brief the president, he talked Frost into having him stay here instead of returning to the safe house. Now he was standing by my bed, my anchor in a still jumbled reality. “How’d you get in anyway?”

  He grinned. “I told the nurse I was your step-father.” Then he looked serious. “How are you feeling?”

  My throat still felt raspy, but I could manage to talk without coughing. The headache was gone. Every time I tried to move, my left side hurt a little extra, and even raising the head of the bed didn’t help. “Oh, you know, like I’d been in an explosion.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, right. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  I gave him a weak smile. “I can’t think of anything, but thanks for coming.” Then I thought of Troy. “Oh, do you know if anyone has told Troy what happened?”

  “I called him at the safe house by sat-phone last night to let him know you had survived the explosion. He had seen the explosion on TV and was definitely worried. He said he was going to try to get the guards to let him catch the first flight out today. However, the last I heard the FBI had orders that until the Trio’s safety was assured, none of them could leave the safe house.”

  Over the past few weeks I had gotten to know Troy extremely well, and I couldn’t picture him taking an edict like that without a huge argument. Besides, by now it didn’t seem there was any real point to keeping the Trio incommunicado. I hoped he didn’t get into any kind of trouble over it.

  Jack glanced at the wall clock. “I’m going to have to get going. Clare and the kids send their love and hope for a speedy recovery. I’ll be back this evening if they haven’t let you out already. You might give the staff here a list of people who can see you.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Get better,” he whispered.

  ◆◆◆

  Day 3, 7:00AM

  A half hour later Dr. Nazary knocked on my door. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  I told him the same thing I had told Jack.

  He smiled politely, then e looked at my chart and checked the monitor. After studying his notes, he declared I was fit to go home. “Your pain will probably last for the next several days. I can prescribe a strong pain killer if you’d like.”

  I pictured security at work going through the roof if I took “babble juice.” “No thanks, I’ll manage.”

  He screwed his mouth to the right. “Have it your way. But you will need to take it easy for another day or two and maybe more. Your concussion hasn’t magically gone away.”

  I asked, “What about work?”

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m an analyst. I study technical papers and such to look for potential security threats. Some of my work is highly classified.”

  He frowned. “That sounds like intense brain work. I’d say avoid it if you can. Your concussion seems to be minor, but you really should take a few days off.” He gave me a litany of symptoms and what to do about them and finished with, “and rest as much as possible.” He pointed his pen in my direction for emphasis. “If you have any of those symptoms and they don’t go away quickly or get worse, have someone bring you back here right away.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Do you have someone who can drive you home or to work?”

  “I’m set, thanks. My boss, Dr. Frost, is coming in this morning.”

  Dr. Nazary nodded. “Good.
Before you leave, make an appointment to come back for a checkup in three days.” He collected his tablet and headed for the door. Glancing back, he added, “See you then.”

  Not long after he left, an orderly came in with my release papers.

  Someone had cleaned my clothes, placed them in a plastic bag, and left them in the room while I was sleeping. Unfortunately, the left sides of my jacket and shirt were shredded so badly they were useless. My backpack and purse had also appeared in the room. I checked the contents to be sure the laptop hadn’t disappeared. Everything was in order so I settled back and watched TV from the couch while I waited for Frost.

  He came around nine thirty, carrying a bag with the clothes I had asked for plus a coat. When he saw my expression, he explained, “A cold front moved in overnight. It’s bitter out there.”

  He looked at me and at the bag of ragged clothes on the bed. “I see someone beat me to your clothes,” he said with a slight smirk. “You’ll probably like these better.” He handed me his bag and smiled at me. “I’ll get out of your way so you can get dressed.” He left and made sure the door closed behind him.

  I was going to change into my clothes by myself, but I soon discovered I couldn’t do it without help. Even with a nurse doing most of the work, every step of the process hurt. I had to wonder how I was going to do it on my own at home. When I was dressed, I eased back onto the couch and thanked her. On her way out I asked her to let Frost back in.

  He peered at me with a slight smile he said, “As long as no one reports me for abusing you. … How do you feel?”

  “Not great, but a whole lot better than last night.”

  “Good. I get why you were at the explosion night before last, but if you’re up to it, I need to get an update on what’s been happening at the safe house. We can talk in the car. Are you ready?”