The Black: Arrival

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The Black: Arrival Page 5

by Paul E. Cooley


  That’s when her palm caught fire. Her nerves sizzled and she cried out. Her fingers shook and she dropped the remover to the ground. The metal lid from the barrel’s cap dinged as it hit the concrete floor. The scream welling up in her throat died as the sensation passed.

  She panted and brushed away a tear. That was pain she’d never imagined possible. Her hand throbbed. Marie picked up the tool, placed it back on the shelf, and walked as fast as she could to the lab.

  Two card swipes and she was at the emergency shower. She pulled the chain and put her hand beneath the cold water. The throbbing slowed and then disappeared. She turned off the shower and put her hand beneath the iodine dispenser. A couple of pumps and the brownish-yellow liquid covered her skin. She gently rubbed it into the tiny wound.

  Marie stared at her hand. The skin was stained from the iodine. She’d have to clean it up before she put on a bandage. When she and the team started the tests, she made a mental note to wear a glove.

  *****

  The Honda raced through the light traffic. Kate took another sip from her coffee. Her daughter sang along with some annoying pop song on the radio. She didn't know who it was and didn't care. When Maeve was in the car, the teenager insisted on controlling the audio. Meaning, of course, it always ended up on the top 40 station. Kate hated it. Give her some hard rock anytime instead of this dreck.

  She skirted around an eighteen wheeler and drove a significant distance ahead until pulling back into the right lane. Houston traffic was always crazy. With the increase in oil deliveries from the fracking operations in west Texas to the refineries in Texas City, the interstates and highways were constantly packed with the tanker trucks. It was good for her company and good for business in general, but the rise in accidents across the state weren't. She knew it was only going to get worse too.

  The blessed “beep beep” of the phone muted the radio. Maeve groaned. Kate smiled at her daughter and then hit a button on the steering wheel.

  “Cheevers,” she said.

  The sound of Bugs Bunny berating Daffy Duck was barely audible over the car speakers. “You on your way?”

  “Well, hello to you too, Jay,” Kate grinned.

  “Hey, Uncle Jay!” Maeve shouted.

  The voice chuckled. “Hello, Maeve. I understand you're staying with us tonight?”

  “Not by choice!” the girl yelled.

  “Hush,” Kate said. Maeve shut her mouth and went back to her phone. “Yes, Jay, we're on our way. Has the sample arrived yet?”

  “No,” he said. “Should be here within the hour, though.”

  Kate nodded to herself. “Okay. We're about twenty minutes out.”

  “Great. I'll have the coffee ready. I assume you brought a sleeping bag for the little girl?”

  “Not a little girl,” Maeve said.

  There was a pause. “Did you bring the young lady a sleeping bag?” Jay corrected himself.

  “That's better,” Maeve said.

  “Yes, Jay. Even brought a pillow for her.”

  “All right. I'll see you in twenty.”

  The speakers beeped and then another cheesy pop song shattered the silence. Kate hit the volume button and dropped the noise a hair.

  “I'm old enough to stay home by myself,” Maeve said.

  “We've been over this. You are not staying at home alone all night. And since your father couldn't be bothered to take you, and I couldn’t find a sitter, you're stuck with me.”

  “Not his fault he had plans,” Maeve said.

  “Right.” Kate wanted to tell her daughter that was bullshit. Maeve didn't know about her father's recent obsession with a stripper. Nor that said stripper hated kids. It was his weekend. But like the three before, he hadn't bothered to show up and only called at the last minute to say it was impossible. Maeve hadn't cried, but this was the third time in a row. After the job with PPE was finished, Kate planned on talking to her lawyer again. Her ex needed a reminder about his responsibilities. Or a good, swift kick in the ass.

  He had no problems telling his daughter what a worthless mother she was. Fortunately, Maeve ignored her father’s tirades and saw them for what they were. Kate wondered if that's why he didn't want to be around her anymore. Allegiances had always mattered to Harry Cheevers. If you weren't on his side all the time, you weren't worth his time.

  Still, a daughter needed a father. And Harry needed to get his shit together for Maeve, if for no other reason.

  “The good news is we have a good network connection,” Kate said. “You can stream to your heart's content.”

  Maeve brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “Yay,” she said.

  Kate glanced over and saw the frown. “Don't be so bratty. It's going to be fun.”

  “Right,” Maeve said. “Because anyplace that stinks that bad is fun.”

  “You'll be in my office, Maeve. The lab is air tight. You won't smell a thing.”

  Maeve wrinkled her nose. “Except for when you guys take breaks.”

  Kate laughed. “Won't be too many of those tonight. This is a rush job.”

  “It's always a 'rush job' on the weekends. Why can't these people just wait?”

  “Because,” Kate said, “they can't. And they're paying a lot of money. Do you know what that means?”

  “I don't care.”

  “It means,” Kate continued, “I'll get a good bonus. And that, in turn, means more money for college.”

  “Mom? That's years away.”

  Kate grinned. “It'll be here before you know it.”

  She pulled on the turn signal and took the next exit. A white-lettered green sign proclaimed “Welcome to Pasadena.” She'd seen it so many times, it didn't even register. She maneuvered the car to the far right lane, caught a green light, and headed up the street. Warehouses lined the south side. A few leafless trees were scattered on the easements. It was late November and fall had finally chased away the summer heat. The pines still had their needles and they swayed in the gulf breeze.

  “Finally,” Maeve said as Kate turned at the next intersection. “The stinky, ugly building of Houston Analytical Laboratories.” She turned to look at her mother. “Incorporated.”

  Kate hissed through her teeth and pulled the car into a covered parking spot. She put the car in park and clicked off the ignition. “You ready?” she asked her daughter. Maeve stuck out her tongue. Kate put her index and middle fingers together and reached for it. Maeve flinched. “That'll teach you.” Kate clicked the button for the doors. “Come on. Let's get started.”

  Maeve locked her phone, stuck it in her fleece pocket, and opened her door. A cool breeze filled the car. She groaned. “I miss summer.”

  “Whatever. Thanksgiving break and Christmas will cure all of that.”

  The teenager turned to her mom with a smile. “Only if I get a new console.”

  “Out,” Kate chuckled.

  She grabbed her purse and slid out the driver-side door. Maeve followed suit from the passenger side. Maeve's blonde locks fluttered in the wind. Kate watched her daughter pull the black and purple pack from the backseat and the bedroll. The girl struggled to close the door.

  “I've got it,” Kate said.

  “Nope.” Maeve put her foot against the door and pushed. It slammed loud enough to echo in the parking spot.

  “Dammit, girl,” Kate said.

  Maeve's cheeks flushed. “Sorry, Mom.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  They made their way to the concrete walk leading to the main building. The parking lot was mostly empty. During the week, HAL was a 24-hour operation. The weekends? Dead. Dead. Dead. Unless, of course, there was a rush job. And PPE wanted their new find tested. The timing was shitty, but Kate was glad to have been asked for by name. She'd helped HAL become the best in the business. The executives knew it, too. Maybe next year they'd make her chief scientist.

  When they reached the heavy glass door, Kate pulled her badge and swiped it across the scanner. An LED flashed green a
nd the lock clicked loud enough to echo. She pulled open the door and gestured to Maeve. “Ready for your slumber party?”

  “Whatever,” the girl said and shuffled into the building.

  Kate fought the urge to sigh and failed. She left the cool breeze behind her. The door closed and the heavy lock slapped shut.

  *****

  The hallway was cold and Maeve was already complaining. “It’s colder in here than it is outside!” Kate ignored her and kept walking toward the stairs. “Mom!”

  Kate glanced at her daughter. “You screw your face up any more, your mouth will turn inside out.”

  Maeve heaved a petulant sigh. “Upstairs?”

  “Yes, upstairs,” Kate said. “And since you’re carrying so much crap, let’s use the elevator.”

  “Good. Because my arms are already tired,” Maeve said.

  The whoosh of an automated door filled the hallway. Kate looked back. Jay was walking out of the labs. Smile on his face, coffee cup in hand, Jay looked as if the day was fresh and new. “Shhh,” Kate said to Maeve, “we have a stalker.”

  “I heard that,” Jay called from down the hall. “Hold up, ladies.” Kate and Maeve stopped as the older man walked to them. When he reached Maeve, he tousled her hair. She pretended to flinch. “Keep that up, young lady, and I won’t offer to carry your bedroll.” He held out a hand to Maeve. She grunted and handed the rolled up blankets to him. “There. See? I’m good for something.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Jay,” Maeve’s teeth flashed in a grin.

  Jay met Kate’s eyes. “You said something about an elevator?”

  Kate nodded. “Yup. Let’s go.”

  They headed down the long hallway to the bank of gleaming steel doors. Jay punched the up arrow. Machinery groaned behind the door. “One of these days, that thing’s just going to fall down and end up in our so-called basement.”

  Kate chuckled. “Why do you think no one uses it unless they’re carrying something?” She gestured to the bedroll in his hands. “Hopefully the new building will be better.”

  “You been over there lately?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Nope. I know the skybridge is sort of open, but that’s about it.”

  “Skybridge. More like the Alaskan bridge to nowhere. I mean why the hell did they need to build that to connect two second floors? It’s ludicrous.”

  Kate shrugged. “Guess the execs wanted to be able to travel between them. Of course, that would require them to renovate this piece of shit.”

  “Mommy said a bad word,” Maeve sang.

  “She did indeed,” Jay smiled. The elevator doors groaned open. Jay gestured to the door with his coffee cup. “Ladies first.”

  Maeve mocked a curtsey and stepped into the car. The elevator walls were textured, but the once bright Mediterranean colors had long since faded. Kate stepped in and Jay followed behind.

  She stabbed the button marked “2.” Nothing happened. “Dammit,” she said and pressed it hard. The button lit up, the elevator dinged, and the doors did…nothing. “Piece of—” A motor rumbled and the doors slowly closed. Kate shook her head. “Well, at least the lab is still in good shape.”

  Jay chuckled. “Right. As soon as the floor caves in, it’ll be in the same shape as the elevators.”

  “Mom?” Maeve asked. “Why is this place always falling apart?”

  The car lurched as it began to ascend the forty or so feet to the second floor. “Because we’re waiting on the new building. And they don’t want to spend any more money on this one until that one is finished.”

  Maeve clucked her tongue. “I don’t think you guys should come to work anymore. Not until they fix it.”

  “Right,” Jay said. “Because I’ve always wanted to be homeless.”

  Kate smiled at her reflection in the gleaming steel. The custodial staff wasn’t allowed in the labs, but they did their best to keep everything else looking as new as they could. Pointless effort, really. Clients seldom visited the lab and HAL’s employees certainly didn’t give a shit one way or the other. But at least it made it seem like they were working at a real company that wasn’t on a shoe-string budget.

  Like Jay said, the labs were tip-top. Any time a new piece of equipment came on the market that Kate or the other lead scientists wanted, they got it. If something broke, it was either repaired or replaced in a matter of hours. That went for the computers too. The admins were always on call, even on the weekends.

  The elevator lurched again as it came to a stop. Another ding and the doors struggled open. Maeve hurried through them and into the hall. When she was far enough away for Kate to exit, she turned around and pointed at the elevator with her free hand. “I’m not using that thing again.”

  Kate laughed as Jay exited. “I think Uncle Jay agrees with you.”

  Jay shook his head. “Next time, kiddo, you use the stairs. Even if I’m on your back.” Maeve ignored them and headed to the office hallway. Kate and Jay followed.

  “The sample here yet?” Kate asked.

  Jay sipped his cooling coffee. “Marie hasn’t texted me yet. So I’m guessing no.”

  Kate frowned. “But you checked the lab?”

  “Yup,” he said. “And it looks about as good as it’s going to.”

  They reached the closed door marked “Cheevers.” Maeve swiveled the knob and opened it wide. Kate’s office was spartan, except for the picture of Maeve hanging on the wall and the leather couch beneath it. An LED in the corner of her computer screen blinked. Kate dropped her purse on the desk. Maeve was on the couch and unzipping her pack.

  “Little miss? Where would you like your bed?” Jay asked.

  She stuck her tongue out at him and then grinned. “Just drop it by the couch.” Jay did. “Thanks, Uncle Jay.”

  He bowed and then turned to Kate. “What do we do until the sample arrives?”

  Kate pushed her mouse and the computer screen lit up. She typed in her password, ran her finger through the thumbprint scanner, and then waited. “I think we should figure out the test order.” The screen flashed and then displayed her desktop. She checked her email. “Christ. Chuckles is performing a maintenance update?”

  “Oh, crap,” Jay said. He took a long draught from his giant mug. “When’s he going to start that nonsense?”

  “If you ever checked your email, you’d know.” Kate nodded to herself. “He’s got a 10 to 4. I guess he’ll be burning the midnight oil right along with us.”

  Chuckles. The most unpleasant man on earth. He was HAL’s system administrator. When something went wrong with the network, their internet access, or any of the machines, Chuckles was the man to fix it. But if he couldn’t fix your desktop remotely, he crawled out of his cave and stumbled into your office like a bear awakened during hibernation. Irritable, always muttering under his breath, and prone to screaming profanity in his cave, Chuckles was hardly her favorite person.

  “At least we don’t have to worry about the systems crashing and having to call him out of bed,” Jay said. He sipped his coffee and scowled at the mug. “Dammit. This thing never stays hot long enough.”

  Kate grinned. “Probably because it’s made of thick ceramic and has no top. The heat just escapes too rapidly.”

  “You know,” Jay gestured with his cup, “I’m a scientist too.”

  She dropped her eyes back to the computer screen. Simpson, Vice President of PPE, had sent her an email. She double clicked it, read the text, and hissed through her teeth. “You know, I’ll take their money, but not their abuse.”

  “Now what?” Jay asked. He walked around her desk and read the email. “That’s not abuse,” he said. “He simply wants to make sure we let him know when the sample gets here. When we’ve started testing. When we’ve finished. When the report’s done. And updates every five minutes.” He took another draught of coffee and grimaced. “All very diplomatic.”

  Kate looked over the monitor at Maeve. She had unpacked. A sparkly colored tablet was on the couch along wi
th her phone and the bedroll. A math book lay open beside her and she had a notepad in her hands. “Maeve?”

  Her daughter looked over. “Yes?”

  “Make sure you get plenty of light. Don’t want those eyes going bad.”

  “Yes, Mom.” Maeve reached behind her and touched the edge of the lamp on the end table. A cone of bright, white light dispelled the shadows. Maeve blinked at the sudden brightness. “Sheesh, Mom. You got the sun in here now?”

  Jay laughed. “My gift. Your mom doesn’t get much natural light in here.” He pointed to the window. “Kate’s office has such a great view of the building next door that she’s nearly always in shadow. Hence the light.”

  Maeve shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Kate shook her head. “Sorry, Jay. She’s, um, at that wonderful age.”

  He chuckled. “Is that recognition I hear in your voice?”

  She tapped her finger on the desk and returned her eyes to the screen. “Something like that.” Kate pulled up the report requisition from PPE. “Light test,” she said.

  “Yeah. I thought that was odd too,” Jay said. “I mean it’s not like we haven’t seen that before, but still. I guess they’re pulling out all the stops with M2.”

  “Stockholders want a clean bill of health.” She smiled at Jay. “Else there’s going to be hell to pay.”

  “Considering all the bullshit going on in the industry, I’m surprised anyone’s trusting anyone’s word,” Jay said.

  She shrugged. “If we—”

  Yosemite Sam’s voice started yelling from Jay’s pocket. He raised an eyebrow and pulled out his phone. His lips turned upward into a smile as he touched the phone screen and raised it to his ear. “Marie. Where you been all my life?” Jay’s grin widened as he listened. “Okay. Come to the break room when you’re ready.” He pulled the phone from his ear, touched the screen, and then pocketed it. “It’s here,” he said.

 

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