FORTUNA

CHAPTER 2

Dr. Gregory Armistadt stared down at the pieced together woman hooked up to monitors and IV's. Why they were trying to keep her alive was beyond him. He was pretty sure this was the second time she tried to kill herself and this time, she might have succeeded in killing her mind, if not her body. If she did wake up with her mind intact, he doubted the government would leave her alone.

Sharon Walker was brilliant. Her work with the Fortuna virus would keep people like Edward Singer pushing her, pushing her to live, pushing her to recreate the virus, pushing her to forever change humanity. Greg doubted Sharon would allow herself to be pushed again. He touched her steel gray hair. He wanted to stroke her face, but the monitors would report that action back to Singer and his cronies. He turned and walked back to his quarters.

The message light was flashing. Greg debated whether to ignore it, but it might be a patient. His patient load had increased over the last couple of months. He knew the extended journey contributed to peoples' anxiety but the research was scarce in this field. He hoped to add his observations to the topic and make future journeys more tolerable.

"Armistadt, Singer here. Let's meet at the Drifter about seven."

That was it. Singer made his demand and left no room for refusal. Greg's hand curled into a fist and wished he had something to punch. He'd have to go to the gym to satisfy the urge but that would give too much away, wouldn't it? He glanced at the clock. Two hours before he had to meet the illustrious Edward Singer. Ed Singer the pompous power hungry idiot.

Greg decided he might as well go to dinner. He would skip dinner, but that might be noted by those that watched him. He wasn't so paranoid normally, but the whole Walker thing made him jumpy. They had watched her closely and even under their scrutiny, she still managed to destroy all the virus in her possession along with all her notes. She almost managed to destroy herself.

The Drifter Lounge was luxurious with padded seats, padded dividers between tables, thick carpets, and a price tag that kept most of the inhabitants of the New Horizon outside the real wood doors. Only the finest natural liquors were served here, none of the synth product served in the other five bars. Of course, that would last another year or two and then the Drifter would drift right down to the level of everyone else. There were no oak casks and fine grains to produce more distilled alcohol.

Greg settled into a booth on the far wall of the lounge. It gave him a clear view of who came and went. He didn't have to wait long before Singer showed up. Singer waved a finger at the bar tender and headed towards Greg's booth.

"You're early," Edward said. He glanced at Greg's half full glass.

"No point of going back to my room after dinner. Might as well enjoy the real stuff while I can," Greg said. He took another sip of bourbon.

The waiter set a glass filled with ice on the table along with a shot glass filled with amber liquor. Edward poured half of the liquor over the ice slowly. Ice cubes shifted as the warmer liquid made its way to the bottom of the glass then Singer gulped the icy liquid in one swallow. Greg had seen Singer do that before, but it surprised him every time. Singer never told him what the amber liquor was or why he drank it that way.

"Ah. Now let's get down to business." Singer's pale eyes fixed on Greg. "How attached are you to that woman?"

There was no reason to play coy. Greg knew what woman Singer referred to. "No more than any doctor patient attachment."

"Really. Such a gentle touch of her hair. Seems like there's more to it than that."

"I've been working with her for weeks. She's a brilliant woman and her death is such a waste." Greg returned Edward's stare.