Mission Cure

CHAPTER FOUR - M:FAC/1 - CHARLIE

CHARLIE

ONE HOUR EARLIER

Charlie hated staying up late. He was a morning person by nature, ready to face the world at five a.m. with his pot of black coffee and even a joke or two that only the twins would appreciate. Staying up until two in the morning, waiting for emails and hoping Rhodes would materialize with an incredible story about being trapped behind an avalanche of boxes or having taken too much NyQuil was really not his idea of a good time. Besides, the late hour reminded him of his wife and all those evenings cuddled on the couch, drinking hot tea and watching episodes of their latest favorite show. Beth had been a night-owl, a social night-owl - his polar opposite - and thinking about her now made his heart ache. He'd never regretted those late, sleepless nights, but now... he wished he had slept even less.

His slippers brushed the floor on his way to the kitchenette which was a counter, a sink, a few cupboards, a pressure cooker and a microwave. The Chambers were so minimalist, they felt like a motel. He watered a few plants and filled his favorite mug from the sink, placed it in the microwave. As he waited for the beep, he decided on clove honey and hibiscus tea.

Then, mug in hand, he went back to his computer, checking on the kids along the way. He opened the boys' door and saw them sleeping in their signature poses. Oliver with one leg draped over the side of the bed, and Oren curled into a ball. Funny how twins could be so different. Then he peeked in on Dreary. She was asleep against a stack of pillows, a book open on her chest, a mug in her hand.

Charlie went and carefully took the cup before she spilled the last of her drink. He placed it on her desk and thought about turning off her lamp. Dreary was just like her mother, allergic to going to bed at a reasonable hour. She would read until it was physically impossible and then fall asleep despite the light. Charlie decided to leave the lamp on, whispered that he loved her, and slipped quietly from the room.

"Where did you go?" he asked the empty living room about Melvin Rhodes. Charlie rarely talked to himself. But this was a special occasion. His best friend was missing, and he could be anywhere on the ship. Even downstairs.

He'd told Dreary he'd checked the lower level, and he had. But he'd left out one little detail.

There'd been someone else down there.

Sneaking around.

And that person did not want to be discovered.

He hadn't actually seen anyone, but the telltale sound of footsteps was proof enough. Every 'hello' he'd called out had been met with silence, but the feeling of that distant stalker watching him would haunt him forever.

At his desk, he touched the screen to wake the monitor and checked the time - two thirty and still no reply from Adrian. He sipped his tea and waited, minute by minute, until it finally hit three-twenty and a new email materialized from M:FAC/3.

He tapped it twice with his finger.

Charlie's original message was on top:

Adrian Antonov - M:FAC/3

CC: General Spencer M:FAC/3; General McBeth M:FAC/2; General Thompson M:FAC/4

Message: Urgent

Charlie Maccree here with an important message. We cannot locate General Rhodes anywhere on the ship. My best guess is that he's in one of his rooms, none of which we can access. He is not answering his phone, so his health may be compromised. Obviously, Adrian, you and the other Generals are the only other ones with permission to enter that part of the ship, and having you here would be very helpful - but you cannot return without linking the ships, and we need Rhodes for that... You see the problem. We need the bypass code to the General's quarters.