Norman Shakespeare

The Congo Affair


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where he worked as a programmer on the communications systems that linked the ground station to orbiting modules deployed by the rockets from the site. Although that was his official job description, he now had the additional responsibility of maintaining the access-control system in the compound.

      Three months earlier the previous technician was evacuated to Europe after contracting some obscure tropical bug and, to date, no replacement had arrived. James hoped the poor chap had survived the ordeal; no one had heard from him since he left.

      James didn’t mind the additional responsibility; he enjoyed the work and it complemented his normal job that required sitting at a computer all day, coding and debugging in C++ and Assembler. Since the last launch (and the temporary grounding of the system), he’d had very little work anyway.

      The access-system comprised a number of turnstiles that operated on pass-codes read off magnetic cards carried by all staff. The community at the site was grouped into access zones according to job description and security clearance. Early every morning, James ran a series of loop-back tests to check turnstile operability and status. The program also generated statistical reports for each access point. There were thirty-seven turnstiles and the test was identical for each. Over the week-end James decided the process needed automation, so he set about writing a small batch-program that would cycle through all sites, run the tests, and log any results in a spreadsheet for easy analysis.

      He was deep in concentration when he sensed rather than saw someone behind him. He turned to see Albert, the French engineer from the front office, almost leaning over him. Albert stepped back and to one side apologetically, “I have brought Ms. Walsh for zee access card,” he stammered.

      James towered over the girl from the canteen as he stood to shake her hand. Close up, she was even more attractive. She wore no make-up and her fine, clear skin positively glowed, exuding a healthy natural beauty. Albert, usually quite the charmer, was also a little overwhelmed and muttered unintelligibly as he took his leave.

      She smiled her thanks before turning to James; a distinctly cooler expression crossed her face. “Here are my particulars. I would like to start work today, so how long will it take to get the access card?"

      “Hopefully while you wait” he tried to smile engagingly. “I’m sorry for staring at you earlier; the fact that you’re new here and so good-looking caught me a little off guard.”

      She looked at him without forgiveness. “You probably say that to every new girl.” She turned her back to him and looked around the room.

      James’s handsome, tanned face dropped slightly, his happy-go-lucky temperament not prepared for the rebuff. It was the first time he’d complimented a girl since the divorce and her response didn’t do his frail ego much good. “Have a seat please,” he said, sitting to complete the form. “This will only take a minute.”

      Although her attitude was cold he instinctively liked her. He thought she must be very unhappy, and resolved to repair the bad feelings as soon as possible.

      Michelle Walsh (Shelly) had arrived from Florida on the last flight into the base. Like all new staff, she’d spent a while in the compound hospital. The isolation phase was intended primarily to facilitate acclimatization, as well as to assist in recovery from the compulsory series of inoculations against malaria, smallpox, and cholera, and some other less well known diseases. In the hospital, newcomers live in a closed environment and are gradually exposed to the local climate, food, and water to minimize dehydration from the heat and stomach disorders. Bacterial activity in the tropics was ten times that of cold, northern climates; the daytime temperatures always over 100º F.

      Shelly, like James and many others, had opted for the post in Congo to get away from her ‘previous’ life. She was the victim of a horrible, violent experience in which her husband, Alan had been murdered and she’d been brutally assaulted by a gang of drug-fuelled thugs.

      Her parents tried to talk her out of going to Congo but she felt a complete change of scenery was the only way to put things behind her. In Tampa, surrounded by friends and associates, she was continually reminded of the soul-destroying events. The immense burden of her experiences had put her off men for life and she hardly noticed when she hurt them with her curt, insensitive remarks.

      Before the incident she’d been contented and fun-loving, close to her family, friends and pets; she dearly hoped to regain some of that former joy by starting from scratch at Orion. In some ways it was an extreme plan, but she’d inherited a stubborn, independent streak from her father.

      James typed the security codes from her registration form onto the computer which matched them with those downloaded from the permanent satellite link to Eurospace. A special terminal on the desk printed a color picture of her on the plastic card before coding the RF ID.

      Once complete, the terminal ejected it with a soft ping. James looked at her, confirming that the picture was a good likeness. “Here you are,” he said, handing it to her. “Let me run through the procedures and the security system.”

      He stood up to point at a large site map on the wall, his athletic frame and rugged good looks obvious to her. “From where we are now,” he pointed to the computer building, “you have access to the following facilities.” He consulted the printout which accompanied the card. “This block, since you are computer personnel. Your living quarters, S3D2, are in the single residential area, road 3, block D, unit 2, which is a few hundred yards in that direction.” James indicated out of the large rear window. “Your luggage will already be there when you get back this afternoon. You have access to all recreational areas.” He pointed out the gymnasiums, canteens, and park on the map. “The launch site, maintenance workshops, and wharf areas are off limits.

      “If you lose your card, just push the ‘help’ button on the first turnstile you come across, and follow the instructions. In emergency, the red button can be used. It is linked directly to the security office which is manned twenty-four hours a day.” He found himself distracted by her exquisite, upturned face as she absorbed everything he said. He turned back to the diagram on the wall to avoid annoying her again.

      Shelly hadn’t noticed his dilemma. “Are there any wild animals in the area?” she enquired neutrally.

      “Yes, outside the fence. Why do you ask?”

      “I would like to see some; I enjoy nature and the outdoors and it would be a shame to come all this way and not experience the wild.” She stopped abruptly, looking out of the window as if she’d already said too much.

      “I couldn’t agree more; it’s sad that so many of the staff have no interest in the wildlife and can’t wait to get away from here. If you’re in the right place at the right time you will see plenty of elephant, lion, hippopotamus, and crocodile. In fact, if you listen at night you will hear most of them outside the fence.”

      Briefly, she looked enthralled so he added hesitantly, “I can show you around if you like.”

      Shelly shook her head. “It’s all right, thanks; I am sure I will find them easily enough.” The thought of being alone with any man made her tremble anxiously.

      “Suit yourself” he said quietly, a little disappointed. “If you need any advice or information don’t hesitate to contact me. You will be working on the software component of the personnel project downstairs.”

      “Yes, I probably will since I am a computer developer.” She didn’t know why she uttered the oddly cynical remark; possibly because the assured confidence of this Mr. Kent unsettled her.

      “So am I,” James said innocently.

      “Really?” She wasn’t convinced that a security guard who issued access cards could program computers. “What languages do you use?”

      “C++ mainly. I designed and maintain the objects and classes for the orbiter up and down-links; I also use Assembler for the access systems.” He derived a little pleasure from the surprise on her face. “What is your specialty?”

      “VB and C++.” She stood up. “I must