Fallout (21 page)

Before you ask, my dosimeter is .28 today, and yes, I have a headache, but I’m pretty sure his name is Tucker rather than radiation sickness.

I don’t know what to do. It’s so ingrained in me to follow instructions and obey authority when I’m given an order, but I
know
Tucker’s orders are foolhardy at best. At worst, they could be fatal. Maybe not to me since I probably won’t be around long enough to see the kind of work he’s proposing get started, but I’d hate to see Lyrica or anyone else exposed to that level of danger.

I shouldn’t dump all this on you. There’s really nothing you can do about it. I just needed to tell someone. If everything goes horribly wrong, there will be a record of my concerns and the fact that I voiced them to Tucker and was ignored.

Sambit hit send before he could reconsider the wisdom of sharing his concerns with Derek.

He closed his eyes and lay back on his cot. His head ached, but rubbing his temples with his own fingers didn’t work nearly as well as Derek’s massage had done. He wished he had a better plan than just letting Derek know about his concerns, but he didn’t really know who else to contact. Lyrica might, but she’d been surprisingly silent all day, letting Sambit bear the brunt of Tucker’s idiocy. He could possibly send an e-mail to his department chair at Texas A&M. He might know someone higher up at the NRC who could override Tucker’s orders. He’d send an e-mail tomorrow.

The sound of his phone ringing jarred him out of his doze. He picked it up, hoping it was someone he could ignore so he could go to sleep. Derek’s name flashed across the screen. He smiled. That was even better.

“Hi, Derek.”

“If Tucker orders you to do something dangerous, you refuse. If you can use the robot to do it, fine, but if it means exposing yourself to excess radiation, you refuse.”

“He hasn’t asked us to do anything dangerous yet,” Sambit assured Derek, the fire in the other man’s voice reassuring him that someone would be on his side if it came down to a fight with Tucker.

“If he does, call me,” Derek said. “Then put on a radiation suit and start walking. It’ll take me an hour or two to get there on my bike depending on what shape the roads are in, but I’ll leave the minute you call. You aren’t a plant employee, and you aren’t in the military. Tucker can’t make you put yourself in harm’s way.”

“It’ll take more than two hours to ride a bike here,” Sambit said, although he was certain Derek meant a motorcycle. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

“It’s a motorcycle and you know it,” Derek snapped, “and if I find out you didn’t take me up on it and did something dangerous instead, I’ll come up there and get you myself.”

“I won’t do anything dangerous without believing it’s the right thing to do,” Sambit promised. He wasn’t going to promise not to do anything dangerous at all. He knew better than to think he could keep
that
promise.

“Not good enough,” Derek said through the phone, his voice a deep growl.

It warmed Sambit’s heart to know Derek was so invested in his safety. “It’s the best you’re going to get. I don’t want to think about Tucker anymore. Tell me about the rest of your day instead. Did you get your yard cleaned up?”

“No, the National Guard knocked on my door to check on me, and I ended up volunteering with them for the rest of the day,” Derek said. “I’m exhausted and wishing I trusted the water enough to take a hot bath, but we got a big section of Broadway cleared from 288 down to Cullen. It was slow going with all the trees and debris from the flooding, but there’s a power station in that stretch, so the utility company can come in and start repairs working out from there as soon as they have the personnel in place. I asked around, but nobody had any real idea how long that would take. I guess they don’t have a lot of experience with this degree of disaster.”

“I don’t imagine they do,” Sambit said. “The only thing in recent memory that even comes close is Katrina, and while that was awful, the biggest problem there was the levees breaking and the flooding. This was an entirely different caliber of storm. The water may have gone down faster, but the wind damage has to be worse.”

“We certainly had scads of trees down along Broadway,” Derek agreed. “Some of the sections along there aren’t developed, just big expanses of trees. We didn’t even try to get back in there to see what shape they were in. We just cleared the ones from the road. Nature will have to take care of the rest. Or some developer when the area starts coming back.”

“So are you feeling better or worse about the state of things now that you’ve spent the day helping out?” Sambit asked, the despair implicit in Derek’s e-mail still fresh in his mind.

“It’s hard to feel better when you see how bad it really is,” Derek replied, “but at the same time, it helped to do something, you know? To not feel like I was sitting around on my ass all day doing nothing when there were people out there working hard. They wouldn’t let me go in any of the buildings or help with any of the search and rescue stuff the local police and fire people were doing. They said I was a civilian, and they weren’t authorized to put me at risk. So, see? I’m being good. You have to do the same. Why did your dosimeter reading go up three rads today? Did you go outside?”

“For a few minutes,” Sambit admitted. “I had to get away from Tucker. Lyrica’s defense was to simply not say anything, which left me to try to make him see reason. I should have followed her example, but I was afraid if I did, he’d order us to do something stupid, so I argued with him. I reached the point where it was go outside or punch him. I thought going outside was the preferable option.”

“Punch him next time,” Derek said, “or else put on a hazmat suit before you go outside. That’s too much of a jump for one day. I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Or what? You’ll come get me?” Sambit teased.

“If I have to. I appreciate your determination to help while they’re shorthanded, but this is not your job,” Derek said. “You don’t have to endanger your health doing this.”

“.28 Gray isn’t enough to hurt me,” Sambit assured him. “If I were exposed to that level of radiation constantly over the course of months or years, it might, but not for the few weeks I’ll be here. I know you don’t believe me, but I’m not trying to get sick. I just needed to breathe air that hadn’t been recycled who knows how many times for a few minutes. I needed to feel the wind on my face, even if it’s a hundred degrees, and see the blue sky and listen to the birds chirping. They’re coming back too.”

“Mother Nature is a lot better at recovering from disasters than we are,” Derek said, “but that’s changing the subject. Please take care of yourself. I want to see you again when this is over, and not in the hospital.”

“Aw, you won’t come sit at my bedside if I get sick?”

“Don’t even joke about it,” Derek snapped. “Not about that. It’s too easy to die from radiation sickness. I’d never forgive myself for leaving without you if that happened.”

There it was, that protective nature over a tender heart again. It never failed to tug at Sambit. He didn’t know how he’d ended up on the receiving end of that protectiveness, but he couldn’t make himself complain about it. Not when it made Derek so attractive.

“I’ll be careful,” Sambit promised. “I don’t want to end up in the hospital either.”

“Is your head still bothering you?”

“Not nearly as much now,” Sambit said. “I think just talking to you helped. Maybe I’ll get a good night’s sleep, and Tucker won’t seem nearly so annoying in the morning.”

“Sleep well,” Derek said. “I’d tuck you in and give you a good night kiss if I were there, but you’ll have to settle for a long distance one since I’m not.”

Sambit chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll manage to sleep without being tucked in. Thanks for listening, Derek. Really.”

“Anytime,” Derek replied. “Send me a text in the morning and let me know if you’re feeling better.”

“You don’t have to babysit me. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but indulge me. What can it hurt?”

“Fine,” Sambit said. “I’ll text you in the morning.”

“I tried doing yoga when I got home tonight, thinking it would help relax my muscles.”

Sambit smiled, thrilled at the thought that Derek had continued the practice even after he left. “And?”

“And I landed on my ass within the first five minutes. I miss your guiding hand on my… shoulder.” The pause lasted so long Sambit knew Derek had changed his mind about what he was going to say. It surprised him, actually, that Derek would rein in his flirting that much.

“Keep practicing. It’ll get easier, I promise.”

“I just need you to keep teaching me,” Derek insisted.

“We’ll see,” Sambit said. “I should really go to sleep now.”

“Text me in the morning,” Derek repeated.

“I will. Good night.”

“Good night, Sambit.”

Derek ended the call before Sambit could reply or comment on his use of Sambit’s full name, but the effect was undeniable. His name in Derek’s voice needed to be on a list of controlled substances, because Sambit’s body had tensed at the sound in anticipation of being touched like Derek had done in the shower before he left. Unfortunately that wasn’t going to happen tonight with Derek back in Houston and Sambit still in Bay City. He’d just have to think of other things until he fell asleep.

Chapter 14

W
HEN
Sambit’s phone rang a week later, he smiled as he picked it up, already knowing who would be on the other end. He and Derek had e-mailed or texted every day since Derek’s departure and had talked on the phone for at least a few minutes almost every night. There had been one night when Sambit was so tired and his head hurt so badly that he’d sent Derek an e-mail saying he was going to bed and to please not call until tomorrow. Derek’s reply e-mail had been concerned, making Sambit promise to call him in the morning instead, but he’d respected Sambit’s wishes. The phone call the next morning had been full of repeated offers to come get him, followed quickly by Lyrica saying Derek wanted to know what his dosimeter reading was. It hadn’t gone up in two days so Sambit didn’t mind her telling Derek, and Derek’s concern had put a smile on Sambit’s face for most of the morning.

“Hi, Derek.”

“How’s your head tonight?

“It’s okay,” Sambit said. “I’m tired, but no headache.”

“Really?” Derek’s voice betrayed his skepticism.

“Really. Tucker got called into some meeting today and wasn’t at the plant so he wasn’t adding to the stress of the situation. When he got back, he said we should be getting more staff and maybe some portable trailers and better beds and stuff. It’ll be another week, maybe two, but the NRC is working with FEMA to set something up.”

“That’s good news! Everyone will be more comfortable that way. So will they let you leave once the new staff arrives?”

“Not right away, probably,” Sambit said. “I’m still the best robot operator they have, thanks to you, not to mention the only one at the moment who has any idea how to do any repairs on it. Unless the new staff includes another robotics engineer, I’m probably stuck until classes start again.”

“I’d be happier if you were back in College Station.”

“So would I,” Sambit said, “but Tucker hasn’t decided to get rid of me yet, and I don’t have a compelling reason to leave so it feels a little like abandoning my post. Enough about me. Tell me about your day.”

“Same old,” Derek replied. “Worked with FEMA and the National Guard again, but we got some good news too. They certified the water as safe again so I’m taking a bath.”

“That will be relaxing,” Sambit said, more than a little envious. “I won’t keep you long so you can go enjoy it.”

“No,” Derek said, his voice full of sly humor and something warmer and more seductive, “I’m taking a bath now. I’m sitting here in a tub full of hot water, thinking about you and wishing you were here with me.”

Heat shot through Sambit at the image of Derek in the tub, long body stretched out along cool marble, steam rising from the water and wreathing his face. “We are
not
having phone sex.”

“Awww, why not?”

“Because I’m sitting in Lyrica’s office, and even though I have the door locked, you never know when someone will come knocking, and this is where I work, which makes it totally inappropriate.” He was babbling, but he couldn’t seem to stop. If he did, Derek would start talking again, and Sambit already knew he wouldn’t listen to admonitions.

“Convenient excuses. That’s fine. We don’t have to have phone sex. I’ll just lie here and talk to you and jerk off to the sound of your voice.”

That did nothing to help restore Sambit’s equilibrium. “You shouldn’t.”

“Why not? I love the sound of your voice. You have the hint of an accent that makes your voice incredibly sexy. It’s probably a good thing I’m not in one of your classes. I’d never learn anything because I’d be too distracted and turned on by your voice to make sense of what you were saying.”

Sambit felt his skin flush hot. He had managed to adopt a fairly American vocabulary after all the time he’d lived here, but he still hadn’t lost the hint of India in his voice, an almost singsongish rhythm that always made him self-conscious when he was speaking in public. Not in class—that wasn’t public—but at forums or other events. Now he’d be even more on edge every time, remembering Derek’s comment about his voice.