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Whatever the Case May Be
“And God said ‘Let there be light,’” the blinds flipped open and let the morning sun into the room, “And there was light.” Robert Shaw looked out the window and over the roof of the parallel wing of the infirmary. It was slightly past eight in the morning, and the day was cloudless and warm. He considered taking the afternoon off. “He looks dead.” The voice pulled him from his brief contemplation. Dr. Shaw walked over from the window. “He does, doesn’t he?” After a few minutes he continued, “No pulse, not breathing.” “So he’s dead.” “Hopefully not,” Shaw answered unconcernedly, “We’ll just have to wait and see.” The visitor followed him out of the room. “So you’re not going to do anything,” he asked, once it became evident that this was the case. “I’m a doctor, Mike. I’m not going to do anything that’s not in his best interest. You’ve just got to trust me.”

Michael Afward frowned as he walked back toward home from the infirmary. He had never been particularly impressed with Shaw. He saw the doctor as arrogant and overconfident, an image not at all bettered by today’s inspection. Three out of twenty-five pronounced dead in one morning; the report was terrible, yet Shaw seemed steadfastly unperturbed. When he got home, Katherine was still in the shower. She was legendary in the family for her long baths. James was nowhere to be found. In the kitchen, Mrs. Afward was cleaning up from breakfast, which Michael has missed. Her eyes were slightly red, which indicated either a sleepless night or a bout of crying. This wasn’t unusual; since her marriage thirty-seven years before, Lillienne Afward had slept badly and cried often. Neither of them spoke upon seeing the other. Michael knew better than to disturb his mother if she wasn’t in the mood to talk. He quietly dropped two slices of bread into the toaster and rummaged in the refrigerator for the bottle of orange juice. It was not until he had finished his hasty breakfast and turned to leave that his mother spoke. “You father’s going to want your report on the infirmary at lunch.” “I know, I’ll have it.” She stared at him a moment. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it all up here,” he patted himself on the head, “And I compose as I go. It’ll be finished.” Mrs. Afward sighed. “Make sure of that, Michael. You know how he is if it’s late.” He nodded. “Do you know where James is?” “He ought to be down at the docks. A new shipment just came in for the quarter four project.” “Do you know what they’re doing down there?” She shook her head. “No one knows what anyone else is doing around here.” The kitchen settled into silence. Sensing the conversation was over, Michael turned and headed for the docks. *  James stood on the dock watching the last of a load of lumber come off the ship. He was in a stormy mood, grumbling over the delay in building. Only half the previous shipment had passed through security, and it had held him up nearly a week. He didn’t know how Katherine would take to the setback; she tended to be picky about punctuality. “James!” He turned and watched his younger brother walk toward him through a rippling curtain of heat. It was hot today, and the humidity was high. It was like breathing soup. “Is this for the quarter four project?” asked Michael. “Yeah.” “Mind telling me what it is you’re doing down there?” James leaned against a wall to stand in the path of the oscillating fan. “Why do you need to know?” “It’s my job to know.” It always made James uncomfortable how much more than everyone else Michael knew about what went on around the base. The main responsibilities of the operation were divided among the three Afward children. James, the oldest, was head of construction and maintenance. Katherine, the middle child, was in charge of research. And Michael, the youngest, was in charge of security, which James supposed entitled him to know everything that was kept secret from the rest of them. “We’re building a chapel,” James answered slowly, “Some of the people in the trailers have been wanting one. It’ll be just north of the machine shop. That’s going to be the sign over there.” He pointed to a white board leaning against the dockhouse with the words “Our Eternal Father” in black letters. Michael nodded and moved to leave. “Okay. Thanks. Just checking in; we’re making reports today at lunch.” James watched him go, and then looked again at the chapel sign. He had found, in dealing with Michael, that the best way to keep information to oneself was to tell only half-truths.

*

It was nine in the morning, nearly two hours after her brothers, that Katherine left the house. The privalege of starting her work day late was one of the benefits of her job, though sometimes she wondered if it was quite worth being left in the dark as much as she was. Both Michael and James seemed to have a much better idea about what went on around the base than she did. Katherine spent most of her day in the lab; there wasn't enough free time to look around for information.