The quiet of the silo during these late hours didn’t encourage conversation and kept their footfalls light. It was a long trip that way. They took breaks but even then they were subdued on the quiet landings where they stopped.
When they arrived, it was still deep into the dimming and they were tired and footsore. They would be staying in the medical facility since it usually had empty rooms, now being no exception. It was unnerving to be there. This was where remediation was done, along with other serious care that required a patient to remain for treatment. The mere idea of remediation often kept people from visiting and encouraged people to be well enough to go home somewhat faster than in medical facilities serving the mids or the down deep.
They napped and then prepared, Greta mumbling to herself as she practiced her opening remarks. Marina remained quiet, thinking of what she wanted to happen and also what was probably better did happen.
They were shown into a hastily prepared room. A hospital room just like the others, the two narrow wheeled beds had been removed and lined the hallway outside the door. Deep grooves had been worn into the tile after countless moves of the beds. Even the plastic baseboards had been worn thin in places where repeated scrubbings and rubs had occurred over the countless years.
Despite the signs of wear, the room was clean and smelled it. The lights were bright and shone down on a cluster of mismatched chairs around a battered but serviceable table. They had even provided pitchers of water and tea, along with several cups. It would do.
The council was not yet in place, but Marina and Greta were let in early to set up their exhibits and order their case. Once they opened their packs, no one but the council, and eventually Taylor, would be allowed to enter. Outside the door, a burly medic stood guard. He tuned a radio receiver to a channel not in use and filled the hallway with static so that no one might overhear. They were thorough; Marina had to give them that.
The presentation went surprisingly well considering what the two women were revealing. The council had read their confidential reports so it wasn’t a complete surprise but Marina would have expected more reaction when faced with the physical evidence of such momentous news. The most expressive reaction Marina saw came when she showed them the entry for the solar system and explained what it said and then showed them the one labeled Earth.
She passed the book in front of their faces so they could see the tiny dot that represented all those silos. The mayor’s eyes grew wide and Marina’s former supporter, Darren, opened his mouth in an amazed O and kept repeating that it must be huge. With every repetition the word huge altered as if he couldn’t find the right way to express it.
The meeting lasted for hours and fatigue had settled over her like a thick blanket by the time they broke for lunch. Knowing the strain they would be under, lunch rations had been laid out in the visitor’s room where they could eat without curious eyes upon them. It was almost completely silent during the entire meal. Everyone sat or stood, abortive attempts at small talk overcome by glazed expressions. The subtext of every word was clear. “Can you believe it?”
They didn’t even last the time allotted for lunch. Everyone had returned and was in their place before time so they pressed on. Now would come the part that Marina dreaded. The council wanted to know what had caused Taylor to react as he had when he encountered Marina that night. They felt it important to understand it in context.
He had been demanding that he be heard, that they were going to make a mistake and that they needed to hear him. The council had solicitously asked if she wanted to withdraw for his hearing and she considered it. Only for a moment, though. There were a few things she wanted to ask him, too.
Taylor had been held in seclusion with no contact other than the council medic. Even the guards that brought him meals wore earmuffs the same as the ones worn in mechanical. The belief in the silo that madness could be spread was a real one and based on real evidence. When one person tried to convince another to go with them outside or chisel through the silo walls to some imaginary place where things were better, sometimes that person listened. Remediation was a private thing. The madness and dangerous behavior that brought them there was also private. For Taylor, that privacy had been heightened because of what he might say.
Taylor was brought in wearing un-dyed pants and a matching shirt. It was what a medic might wear in surgery but it was also the uniform of the mentally unfit. The ends of restraints dangled from his wrists while padded bands encircled them. Without pockets to hide things in he was safer to be around. Without boots, he was less likely to try to run. It was simple logic but it made him look stripped and powerless. His face was pale and puffy, the lack of normal activity allowing weight to pad his fit frame. Even after what he had done, Marina hated to see him like that.
He met her eyes almost immediately but looked away just as fast. Marina could see the shame in his expression. Now that whatever had seized him had passed and the frenzy was gone, he clearly regretted his actions. The council’s questions were supposed to come first. Taylor gave them no opportunity. His eyes scanned the table and his lips tightened. He said, “You have to get rid of all of that. Destroy it.” It was said in a calm and very even tone, but it was not a suggestion. It was a command.
The mayor’s eyebrows lifted at the tone and he pressed his hands to the Legacy book. He leaned forward just the tiniest bit and replied, “I’m inclined to deny that request.”
Taylor’s fingers twitched in agitation and the council medic tightened his grip on Taylor’s arm. He pressed Taylor into a chair and then deftly tightened the free ends of the restraints to the chair arms. They fit perfectly and Marina noticed that the chair he was in was different from all the others. Since they were all different, she hadn’t noticed at first. His had a thicker, sturdier frame and wide flat armrests. She suppressed a little shiver because that was the chair she had almost chosen as her own.
Once secure, the medic stood and asked Taylor if he was comfortable, a silly question if ever Marina heard one. Taylor gave the man a nod and he retreated back to the council side of the table. He inclined his head at the Mayor and said, “You can go ahead now.”
The mayor cleared his throat and asked the big question first. “Why did you attack Marina?”
Taylor hadn’t expected that because he flinched and shot her a sidelong glance. He licked his lips nervously and answered, “I saw her come back and I just had the feeling she had something. Maybe it was her pack or something, but I just knew it.”
“So you attacked her?” Darren asked.
“No. I didn’t intend to do anything to her,” Taylor answered and paused.
He had been alone for enough time to create a smooth story that would come out perfectly, but he seemed to be searching for the right words. Marina thought that probably meant he was telling the truth. For some reason, it made her feel better.
“I really just went to see if I was right. Even when I opened her door, I kept thinking that I was being silly. I thought I would take a peek, see nothing and I could just put this all behind me.”
“But that isn’t what happened. What did happen?” the mayor asked.
He sighed deeply and looked down but he answered, “I opened the door and saw what she had.”
The council medic was paying attention to Taylor, his gaze an evaluating one, but Marina noticed that he was also looking at her similarly. It made her nervous but she understood. She was sitting near a person who had almost killed her. That was cause for some clinical interest, she supposed.