White Noise, page 1
WHITE NOISE
THE MALLET
P A WILSON
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-990509-10-0
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-990509-11-7
Audio book ISBN:978-1-990509-12-4
Copyright © 2022 by P A Wilson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
FREE EBOOK
Sign up for my newsletter and get an exclusive short story and heads up on more free ebooks..
Yes, send me my free book
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Also by P A Wilson
About the Author
Acknowledgments
1
Sofie sat across from Dr. Bindes at his usual table at the back of the Open Pit. She resisted the urge to turn and look for anyone leaning too close, or even staring at them. Being here was a risk in itself because she had no reason to visit him outside a legit clinic. She had to trust he was as worried about observation as she was.
“What changed your mind?” he asked. “You were adamant that the operation was a no-go.”
Fear. She didn’t want to admit it aloud, but the few days she’d had off after the last case had been filled with dread, waiting for the next attack of the Fades. The meds were not working well enough, and if she was experiencing symptoms when she was relaxing, it was only a matter of time before she had a full-on attack in front of her boss.
“You should be happy I agreed,” she said. “You’ve been nagging me about it since I met you. Have you changed your mind? Has some miracle drug been invented so I don’t need the operation?”
It all came out so cranky she almost apologized. But that would make her sound weak and that was the last thing she needed him thinking.
“Nope, the operation is the only way to cure the Fades. When will you have time?”
Never. “I’ll just book when you have an opening. No major case on my plate right now. I just need a bit of notice.”
He looked her over. “Let’s go in the back so I can assess you.” He stood and headed for the small room he used as a clinic for his patients.
Sofie didn’t move. Too many visits to the back room might be noticed.
He stood at the door. “Sofie, come on. I promise it won’t hurt. You’ll be out of here in ten minutes.”
She slid out of the booth and looked around as she turned to join him. No one was paying any attention. Maybe they’d just gotten used to Bindes receiving odd visitors. Maybe some of them were waiting for their turn with the only decent doctor offering unregistered medical help. The Fades wasn’t the only condition on the Mallet that could make it difficult to keep a job once reported.
In the office, Bindes checked her breathing and blood pressure. He didn’t comment on either. Then he took a blood sample and placed it in a scanner. “That will take a bit. So, assuming everything is okay, how about in four or five days?”
She laughed. “Before I change my mind?”
“Before you get too busy and have a good excuse to cancel,” he said. “Well?”
“How long do I have to be off?” Now that she’d made the decision, she wanted it over.
“Before you come in, you need to fast for twelve hours. I’m counting on you doing that at work. We’ll plan the procedure for the evening shift.”
“Total fasting? Like nothing but water?”
“Stim-juice is fine, just no heavy flavoring.”
“I can do that. I’m more worried about taking time off.”
“How are the meds working?” Bindes asked as he checked something on his pad.
“They aren’t. I’m taking twice as many as I should.”
The machine beeped. Bindes checked the results and nodded to himself. “Okay, don’t get sick in the next five days. Come here at end of shift and I’ll take you to the clinic. You should be recovered in three days.”
“And if I can’t get that many days off? I’m not planning to go back to work until I’m ready, but shit happens. If I get called back in, what do I do?” Having to explain she was recovering from surgery that wouldn’t show up on her records would be as bad as declaring she had the Fades in the first place. “I mean, you can put something in my records to explain the surgery, right?”
“You want me to arrange that?”
She almost said yes, but then thought through the ramifications. “No. Too many ways for that to go wrong. And too many people involved in covering it up. I don’t like owing anyone a favor.”
“You need a day. Just one, but you’ll be in pain, and you can’t take anything for it. You’ll have to avoid excessive physical activity because if you dislodge the device, you could lose your sight or ability to speak.”
And then it wouldn’t be long before she was dumped in for processing into nutrients or spaced like any other dead body. Volunteering to do desk work wouldn’t fly if they called her in on a case. She would have to deal with the situation if it came up. Sofie didn’t hold out any hope that things on the Mallet would stay calm for more than five minutes. “Okay. Whatever I have on my plate now will be cleared in the next five days. Anything else?”
“The meds,” Bindes said. “It’s not just yours. I’m seeing more of my patients deteriorating, at the legit clinic and here. The expiry dates must be wrong. I don’t know why it’s happening. We’re prescribing stuff that should be good for a year or more, and they are running at half strength or less.”
“Why would someone fix dates?”
“The usual. Money or power. But it could be other reasons. People do dangerous things for the worst and best reasons. Someone looking for vengeance, or just wanting to kill one person and hide the murder with a lot of collateral damage. Because they think they are saving us from some horrible fate by winnowing the gene pool.”
Not great for anyone. “Can you find out anything else without getting caught?”
Bindes put his pad to the side and looked at her for a moment. Then with a shrug, he said, “I’ll try, but you’re the cop.”
And a victim. “It would be easier if someone reported it.” She shook her head when he started to protest. “I said it would be easier. But I get that you can’t. I’ll do what I can, but official cases will take precedence, and I don’t have a lot of spare time now that I’m prepping for an operation.”
“I could reschedule your surgery. Sofie, not everyone can choose a permanent fix for their condition. Sometimes the meds are the only way to manage.”
I don’t need a guilt trip right now. “I said I’d do what I can. What about the Elites? Any chance they might be affected?”
“That’s more like it. Yes, the Mallet doesn’t discriminate with chronic conditions. And maybe it’s an Elite doing it.”
2
Elites would do almost anything to gain power. Money was the fastest way to increase your control of any and all aspects of life on the Mallet. Sofie believed that pursuit was tempered by the fact that the lower castes in Maintenance and Manufacturing were assets. Not important enough to be treated to a comfortable life. But replacing people cost money, probably more money than a couple of generations of workers could earn. If an Elite family was messing with the medications that kept people working, then something fundamental had changed without her noticing.
Sofie’s attention snapped back to her surroundings as a low rumble of voices intruded on her thoughts. The trip between work and the Open Pit usually didn’t require her to be fully aware of the world around her because most people were hurrying to or from work shifts. Today, people gathered in groups talking, mostly quietly, but the occasional shout made the conversations pause. She scanned the area. Some of the small shops and cafes were shuttered. The groups were moving together. The orange badges with the word enough in blue made a big statement in large numbers. She was the only cop in sight and if violence sparked, she wouldn’t be able to stop even the smallest confrontation.
Two larger groups formed as the crowds came together. They weren’t facin
She moved closer to the crowd to catch the conversation. The participants weren’t cohesive. On the edges they were arguing the need to protest. So not a planned riot, but the right fuel for one to ignite.
“We should wait until there’s proof,” a woman said to her companion.
“When people die, it’ll be too late,” her companion, a young man, said. “People are sick. They aren’t on the line. We have to work longer hours. We’ll get injured.”
“But people get sick all the time,” the woman said when he ran out of breath. “How do you know this is different?”
The man looked at her in surprise. “You don’t believe? Look, if you still have questions, just go. We only need people who are committed. If you’ve bought the Elites’ lies, I can’t help you.”
Sofie moved away before capturing the woman’s answer or being noticed.
“My sister is in the clinic,” a man said. “She was fine one day, and then too sick to work.”
“Where are the headlines?” another man growled. “No one cares if we die until the production numbers drop.”
But a big protest should draw the media. Sofie scanned the edges of the crowd for cameras. None close enough to get pulled down if things went wrong, but a few drones in the air to get background shots. She noticed two drones that belonged to the police.
She had two choices to get back to the station: work her way through the crowd hoping no one would turn on her, or slip through the dark streets and hope the protests were confined to this square. Both were risky, but she wasn’t in any kind of official gear, so if she kept her mouth shut and moved gently between people, the crowd was the best of the two bad options. Some days it seemed like there were no good options on the Mallet.
The mob wasn’t moving in any direction. People were drifting between groups, and the comments were about the same in each one she passed. Sofie scanned the groups before moving between them, on alert for a change in the mood and for anyone who looked like a ringleader. There was no center where someone stoked the crowd’s emotions, no drift toward a nexus of higher tension. No placards, no chants, nothing that might escalate the situation.
She hoped Llewelyn didn’t overreact. That there were no riot-gear-clad officers headed her way. If this was a peaceful griping session — although it felt too organized for that — the cops could easily ignite more passion. That would bring on a sedative mist and she’d fall to the ground with the rest. People got crushed in that kind of situation.
The edge of the crowd came into sight as Sofie dodged around a final cluster of people. The remaining protesters were not yet clumping together for mutual complaining. No wall of riot troops ahead of her. The sight of one or two people leaving the protest gave her hope.
As she stepped past the last straggler, Sofie’s shoulders relaxed. It felt like she was finally taking a breath of air and could start to process the comments she’d heard. What if it was about the meds? What if the problem with hers was only the first sign of a bigger conspiracy? It was hard to dismiss the claims about people falling ill. Too easy to check.
She tapped the code to turn off her pad and hurried away from the protest.
3
When she entered the office, Sofie noticed Amanda’s desk was empty. Not just no Amanda, but no papers, no personal items, and the screen was off. Rick was at his desk and when she approached, she saw he was reading bulletins.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Amanda transferred out?”
“Nope. You still have to work with her,” Rick said. He nodded toward Llewelyn’s office. “She’s filling in as the captain’s aide. Will be for a few months.”
Amanda Mwendwa would love that. She played politics well. Sofie grudgingly acknowledged that Amanda was also a good investigator. Her sniping just made her a hard partner to like. “There’s some trouble out in Maintenance,” Sofie said.
“Yeah, protests.” Rick picked his pad up again. “We got your feed. How bad was it really?”
She told him about the comments and how it felt like people were on the verge of more than just chanting.
“Have you heard anything about this sickness?” she asked. Amanda stepped out of Llewelyn’s office and headed toward them.
“We wouldn’t get called in unless there was something suspicious,” Rick said.
“Sofie,” Amanda said, “good work out there. We decided to let them burn out. No point sending in a force and triggering something bigger.”
Sofie noticed the we. Now Amanda could pretend she was a decision maker. “It seemed to be all about some sickness. Shouldn’t we have heard something? A disease on the Mallet is trouble.”
“Yeah, there have been some reports. Llewelyn told me we’ve had a lot of callouts for people malingering that turned out to be legitimate illness. We haven’t been asked to investigate yet.”
It wasn’t a crime to be ill. Malingering would mean a fine. People were fined for all kinds of petty things. It was a way to keep workers owing money so no one got to leave the Mallet. But being ill or injured was just considered a hazard of any job in Maintenance and Manufacturing. Keeping the Mallet running and processing the ore that came in were dangerous jobs.
“You think it will get that far?” Rick asked. “I mean, what would we investigate? The doctors will get people well or call for a quarantine. We could enforce that, but unless someone is making this happen, we have no crime.”
“We’ll see,” Amanda said. “In the meantime, Llewelyn wants us ready to act if the protests get out of hand. I checked and both of you need to upgrade your equipment. Rick, you need to refresh your riot gear training.”
“Good timing,” Sofie said. “No new cases on our plate at the moment.” She’d planned to do a bit of snooping into the medical supply chain. Look for opportunities to manipulate the expiry dates. It would take less than an hour to get new gear fitted and tested, so she’d have some alone time while Rick sat through his riot training refresher.
“I also looked at your paperwork,” Amanda said. “You need to complete last week’s case-closing documentation. If you’ve got nothing else to do, I’ll see if any of the other teams could use help.” She headed for the next cluster of detectives without waiting for comments.
“I liked the last aide better,” Sofie said.
“You don’t even know his name,” Rick said.
“Exactly. He kept to his job and let us do ours. Amanda is going to be filling our days with busywork.”
Rick chuckled. “I’ll go refresh my training. Must make Amanda happy with me so she won’t assign me to patrol.”
Sofie checked her schedule and made an appointment with the armory for later. Right now, she had some snooping through databases to do.
4
Sofie pulled up the records on the recent callouts. Doing what was basically a sick leave check on workers was something every cop had to take on, regardless of rank. The only benefit of being a detective and not a uniformed officer was that your schedule rarely cleared up enough to give you time. Regardless of how often the callouts landed on your desk, no one enjoyed it. Sofie, like all the cops she knew, wanted serious cases. Not that she wanted people to be murdered, or badly beaten up, but finding those perpetrators was exciting, and knocking on the doors of people who’d called in sick one too many times wasn’t.
