James Tabor - The Deep Zone

AS A MAJOR AND TEROK’S SENIOR MEDICAL OFFICER, LENORA Stilwell had her own computer station, and one that was email-enabled, to boot. Command had finally lifted the ban on email, but any mention of ACE was a court-martial offense, with national security implications, et cetera, et cetera. On her desktop she set down the cup of coffee that was now as much a part of her walking-around attire as stethoscope and clinic coat. What time would it be in Tampa? She could send an email home at any time, of course, but there was a better chance of catching Doug and Danny during waking hours, which would allow her to have an actual exchange. She knew the time zone differentials, had done the calculus hundreds of times, so why was she having trouble now figuring out what time it was where Doug and Danny were?

It was Friday. Or was it? She checked the calendar function on her watch. It was Saturday, March 3. Now the time differential. Tampa was eight and a half hours behind the time in her location up in northeast Afghanistan. It was 12:13 A.M. at Terok, so it would be… it would be … damn . She frowned, closed her eyes, forced her brain to kick over. Okay: 3:43 P.M. in Tampa. Doug would be at work, Danny working after school. No way to catch either one of them for real-time commo.

She started to get up, then sat back down. Wait. Give it a try. No telling when there’ll be a chance again . She flipped her laptop open, keyed in passwords, and opened her email program.

hey guys its me anybdy there? hw r u gys doing? Ther hs ben sum bad fitng & busy

Whoa. Can’t say that . It would suggest that there had been casualties, which could reveal some bit of intelligence with value to some unknown source somewhere. Or, at the very least, bad news for the home front. Start again.

hey honey its me anybody there? how r u guys doing? is cindy bck frm cmpus visits up north? r u guys gng fshng tmrrow on the boat? Dunno wht ur weather 4cast is. Ours samesame. I miss you both. I love you both.

She hit the Send button and sat back to wait. Doug had an iPhone, so even if he wasn’t at a computer, he might receive the email and reply. She watched the computer screen, listened for the little incoming-mail chime. A full minute passed, then two, and she reached to close the laptop, which was when it chimed and the email reply popped up. Doug still wrote like a civilian with all the time in the world, not like a time-poor Army doctor who calculated the half seconds she could save by leaving out punctuation, abbreviating where possible, and butchering normal grammar.

Lenny,

Wow . It had been a while. We were worrying. It is REALLY good to hear from you. I love you. Danny loves you. We miss you. I know you can’t say much about much, but from what we see on the news it looks like your area is heating up. Okay, your questions. Danny is nervous. Won’t admit it, but he is. Cindy got back yesterday. She visited Pitt, Penn State, Rutgers, and Amherst. She came over to see Danny this morning and said she liked Pitt most of all. We’re not going to go fishing tomorrow. And the weather? It’s Florida . You know how that is. We’re really low on groceries so I’m going to the commissary at MacDill this afternoon. I love you. Write me some more.

Cindy was Cynthia Merrit, Danny’s steady girlfriend, a beautiful, petite blonde whose voice always sounded to Stilwell like harp strings being softly plucked. She wanted to be a pediatrician and had been away for much of the previous week looking at colleges. Going fishing on the boat was taking their Scout 34 out for some tarpon fishing. MacDill was MacDill Air Force Base, just south of Tampa. National Guard members had access to all facilities of all service branches—commissaries, clinics, pools, everything.

Dnt wrry all gd here major mom gd shape 4 sure. c liked pitt—good P is a great school. no fshng 4 u tarpon sesn fll swng now dnt waste days bt u gys gtta eat how’s ur rnning?

She sent the email, fiddled with her earlobe waiting for the reply, looked around for a Butterfinger, saw none. Reminded herself to tell Doug to send another box. She was one of those fortunate people with a high-rpm metabolism that allowed her to eat anything she wanted and not gain weight. Keeping weight on was actually more of a problem. She didn’t pig out on Butterfingers, but one a day wouldn’t kill anyone.

Honey,

We’re not going out because one of the Scout Mercs needs an overhaul and both props need balancing. I’ll get my days in, don’t worry. I did 12 miles yesterday, still building the long slow distance base. The marathon’s not for another four weeks, should be just right by then. Hey, look, if I’m going to get the shopping done and be back in time to make dinner, I have to run. And don’t worry. I’ll pick up Butterfingers.

She laughed at that. They had been together long enough for them to read each other’s minds often, as he had just done. How long before they started to look like each other?

ok go 4 it.

i love you and miss you 247.

Lenny

She was about to hit the Send button when such a shot of adrenaline rushed through her that she gasped out loud. The commissary .

Oh God. She deleted “Lenny” and typed furiously.

do not repeat not go to commissary. stay away macdill. possible biohazard. shop civilian. Reply please.

She started to hit the Send button again, then stopped herself. I can’t say that. ACE info is top classified, close hold. The censors will pick it up and there will be fobbits all over me. Doug won’t get the message that way anyway .

As a physician, and a surgeon, and one who practiced in a combat area, Stilwell did not lose control easily. But now she recognized the signs of incipient panic in herself: hyperventilating, lightheadedness, shaking from adrenaline overload.

You don’t know that there’s any problem at MacDill .

But you don’t know that there is not, either .

You can’t let them go there. It’s not worth the risk. Just for groceries .

How to stop them?

She could feel Doug, halfway around the world, waiting for an email from her. If she made him wait too long, he might assume she’d had to break off for some emergency. She closed her eyes, tried to calm herself, forced her thoughts to become orderly. Then she thought of something.

Honey,

I would rather you shopped at Publix. From now on. Until I get home. They are donating 10% of profits to service families in need. Do you copy?

She sent the email, then shook her head. Do you copy? Lapsing into Armyspeak.

His reply came in seconds.

Hi Honey,

Sorry, no can do. Got those boat repairs coming and dough is tight. Plus saving for that vacation we’re taking when you get back. You know all that. But tell you what. I can shop on base and give 10% myself to that family fund and still come out ahead. Hey… have to go. I love you. Will try to call tomorrow. Or email.

LOVE U.

No. No . She typed furiously, all caps. Maybe she could catch him.

NO. YOY DINR UNDERSTNND. CANNOT GO TOI THE CONIMA]

She stopped. More haste, less speed . It was garbled. Panic was disrupting her motor skills. Doug would be gone already. And in a message like that, or like the one she might revise and send, the Army’s censoring software would detect excessive anomalies and route the email to a human reviewer. And then… there would be hell to pay. After this was over, there would be a hard sit-down with the fobbits called insects, partly because they came from Internal Security, the Army acronym for which was InSec. Partly, but not completely. The other reason was that they were slimy men roundly detested for a willingness to walk their careers forward over the backs of other soldiers. She could not let that happen. There was too much need here.