It was the latter activity which occupied him now, as he sat across the modest desk from his single medic. Clemens presented a problem. Technically he was a prisoner and could be treated just like the others. But no one, the superintendent included, disputed his unique status. Less than a free man but higher than an indentured custodian, he earned more than any of the other prisoners. More importantly, they relied on him for services no one else could render. So did Andrews and Aaron.
Clemens was also a cut above the rest of the prison population intellectually. Given the dearth of sparkling conversation available on Fiorina, Andrews valued that ability almost as much as the man’s medical talents. Talking with Aaron was about as stimulating as speaking into the log.
But he had to be careful. It wouldn’t do for Clemens, any more than for any other prisoner, to acquire too high an opinion of himself. When they met, the two men spun cautious verbs around one another, word waltzing as delicately as a pair of weathered rattlesnakes. Clemens was continually pushing the envelope of independence and Andrews sealing it up again.
The pot dipped over the medic’s cup, pouring tea. ‘Sugar?’
‘Thank you,’ Clemens replied. The superintendent passed the plastic container and watched while his guest ladled out white granules.
‘Milk?’
‘Yes, please.’
Andrews slid the can across the table and leaned forward intently as Clemens lightened the heavy black liquid.
‘Listen to me, you piece of shit,’ the superintendent informed his guest fraternally, ‘you screw with me one more time and I’ll cut you in half.’
The medic eased the container of milk aside, picked up his tea, and began to stir it quietly. In the dead silence that ensued, the sound of the spoon ticking methodically against the interior of the ceramic cup seemed as loud and deliberate as a hammer slamming into an anvil.
‘I’m not sure I understand,’ he said finally.
Andrews sat back in his chair, his eyes cutting into his guest.
‘At 0700 hours I received a reply to my report from the Network. I may point out that to the best of my knowledge this is the first high-level, priority communication this installation has ever received. Even when Fiorina was a working, functioning mining and refining operation it was never so honoured. You know why?’
Clemens sipped his tea. ‘High-level priority communications have to go through subspace to beat the time problem. That costs plenty.’
Andrews was nodding. ‘More than you or I’ll ever see.’
‘So why rail at me?’
‘It’s this woman.’ Andrews was clearly troubled. ‘They want her looked after. No, more than looked after. They made it very clear they consider her to be of the highest priority. In fact, the communication managed to convey the impression that the rest of the operation here could vanish into a black hole so long as we made sure the woman was alive and in good health when the rescue team arrives.’
‘Why?’
‘I was hoping you could tell me.’ The superintendent gazed at him intently.
Clemens carefully set his empty cup down on the table. ‘I see that it’s time to be perfectly frank with you, sir.’ Andrews leaned forward eagerly.
The medic smiled apologetically. ‘I don’t know a damn thing.’
There was a pause as Andrews’s expression darkened. ‘I’m glad you find this funny, Clemens. I’m pleased you find it amusing. I wish I could say the same. You know what a communication like this does?’
‘Puts your ass in a sling?’ Clemens said pleasantly.
‘Puts everyone’s ass in a sling. We screw up here, this woman gets hurt or anything, there’ll be hell to pay.’
‘Then we shouldn’t have any trouble arranging compensation, since we all live there now.’
‘Be as clever as you want. I don’t think the urge will be as strong if something untoward happens and some sentences are extended.’
Clemens stiffened slightly. ‘They’re that concerned?’
‘I’d show you the actual communication if it wouldn’t violate policy. Take my word for it.’
‘I don’t understand what all the fuss is about,’ Clemens said honestly. ‘Sure she’s been through a great deal, but others have survived deep-space tragedies. Why is the Company so interested in her?’
‘I have no idea.’ Andrews placed his interlocked fingers in front of him. ‘Why’d you let her out of the infirmary? It’s all related to this accident with Murphy somehow. I’d bet my pension on it.’ He slapped both hands down on the desk. ‘This is what happens when one of these dumb sons of bitches walks around with a hard-on. Why couldn’t you have kept her bottled up and out of sight?’
‘There was no reason to. She was healthy, ambulatory, and wanted out. I didn’t have either the reason or the authority to restrain her.’ Clemens’s studied savoir faire was beginning to weaken. ‘I’m a doctor. Not a jailer.’
The superintendent’s expression twisted. ‘Don’t hand me that. We both know exactly what you are.’
Clemens rose and started for the door. Andrews’s fingers unlocked and this time he smacked the table with a heavy fist.
‘Sit down! I haven’t dismissed you yet.’
The medic replied without turning, struggling to keep himself under control. ‘I was under the impression I was here at your invitation, not official order. Presently I think it might be better if I left. At the moment I find you very unpleasant to be around. If I remain I might say or do something regrettable.’
‘You might?’ Andrews affected mock dismay. ‘Isn’t that lovely. Consider this, Mr. Clemens. How would you like me to have you exposed? Though they are a matter of public record elsewhere, up till now the details of your life have been your own here on Fiorina. This personal privilege has facilitated your work with the prisoners, has indeed given you a certain awkward but nonetheless very real status among them. That is easily revoked. If that were to occur I expect that your life here would become rather less pleasant.’ He paused to let everything sink in before continuing.
‘What, no witty riposte? No clever jibe? Do I take your silence to mean that you would prefer not to have your dirty little past made part of the general conversation here? Of course, it needn’t stop there. Perhaps you’d like me to explain the details of your sordid history to your patient and new friend Lieutenant Ripley? For her personal edification, of course.
Strictly in the interests of helping her to allot her remaining time here appropriately.
‘No? Then sit the hell down.’
Wordlessly, Clemens turned and resumed his seat. He looked suddenly older, like a man who’d recently lost something precious and had no hope of recovering it.
Andrews regarded his guest thoughtfully. ‘I’ve always been straight with you. I think that’s good policy, especially in an environment like we have here. So you won’t be particularly upset or surprised when I say that I don’t like you.’
‘No,’ Clemens murmured in a soft, flat voice. ‘I’m not surprised.’
‘I don’t like you,’ the superintendent repeated. ‘You’re unpredictable, insolent, possibly dangerous. You have a certain amount of education and are undeniably intelligent, which makes you more of a threat than the average prisoner. You question everything and spend too much time alone. Always a bad sign. I’ve survived in this business a long time and I speak from experience. I know what to look for. Your typical incarceree will revolt, sometimes even kill, but it’s always the quiet, smart ones who cause the really serious problems.’ He went silent for a moment, considering.
‘But you were assigned to this posting and I have to live with that. I just want you to know that if I didn’t need a medical officer I wouldn’t let you within light-years of this operation.’
‘I’m very grateful.’
‘How about trying something new, Clemens? Something really different. Try keeping your sarcasms to yourself.’ He squirmed slightly in his chair. ‘Now, I’m going to ask you one more time. As your intellectual equal. As someone you respect if not like. As the individual ultimately responsible for the safety and well-being of every man in this facility, yourself included. Is there anything I should know?’