August

February 2

He was supposed to go pick Caddy up today. Dr. Phidias Alexander had the date marked off on his calendar, circled in messy blue pen and starred so that he wouldn't forget. He couldn't have forgotten anyway. Visits home were only allowed every two weeks for the first four months, and now, waiting for his son's second visit home since he'd been enrolled at the CEC, Phidias realized that the two of them had never really been apart for this long. Not since Emily had died. He felt the usual tug at his heart when he thought of her - his Emily, so sweet, so perfect. So accepting, even at the last.

He moved on. Thoughts like that did no good to a man who still had two proposals to write and four letters to print before 5 o'clock. He glanced at his watch. Noon now. He should eat; it might soothe his stomach, which had been ill with the separation from Cadmus and the anxiety about all the work he had due.

He made his way down to the old, mechanical vending machines that were shared amongst the tenants of the building. Upon rounding the corner to put them in view, he came across Dr. Alan Long, the most senior member of the Cultural Research Institute staff, already standing there, contemplating a snack. At the footsteps, the older man turned, peering through his glasses at Phidias.
"Phil! No lunch again?"
Dr. Long had called him Phil since the day they'd met, and although Phidias was pretty sure that Alan knew by now that the name was wrong, they were long past the point of correction, and both just accepted it for what it was.
"Ah, been working on the Southern Territory Gender Stratification proposal, sir."
Dr. Long grunted his assent and stepped to the side to allow Phidias to access the machine.
"Hn. How's it coming?"
Phidias exhaled a little as he punched the numbers for a double pack of government-made cookies and a glass bottle of milk. The cookies always tasted a little bland, but Phidias didn't want to risk upsetting his stomach with richer food, and he figured them to be a good complement to the milk. The old machine grumbled as its mechanical gears cranked to deliver the treat. Vending machines such as this one were a common sight in government buildings; they'd become a cultural installation, a good source of income for the building managers, and an essential escape for employees sick of government lunches.
"It's going. But slow. The databases aren't what they used to be."
Dr. Long nodded sympathetically.
"Damn wars muck up all our good information. So busy trying to make scientists into warriors, the blasted government doesn't let us get anything done at all."
With an indiscreet cough, the machine distributed his cookies and milk, the latter delivered in a little glass bottle which would have to be returned to the machine for later reuse. There was no room for waste these days.
Phidias took his food and turned to face Dr. Long, who was still standing, patiently watching him as if expecting something. Phidias glanced nervously away.
"Something wrong, sir?"
Dr. Long surveyed him.
"How's your boy doing, Phil?"
Phidias almost dropped his milk.
"He's doing fine, sir. He - "
"I hear the CEC can be a difficult place."
Phidias swallowed again. So he knew.
"Does everyone know, sir?"
Dr. Long shrugged.
"I'd suggest you make it clear as soon as possible that this change in your son's life in no way be a part of your relationship with your colleagues."
At Phidias' confused look, he sighed heavily and explained.
"I know we would like to imagine that this Institute is a community of compassionate scientists, men who are capable of making kind, ethical decisions. But the harsh truth, Dr. Alexander, is that deep down, underneath all the ethics and underneath all the training and underneath all the objective understanding, they are still just men."
Phidias' face shifted into alarm. Dr. Long clasped his hands together behind his back, pushing his prodigious stomach further forward.
"Cadmus is a valuable commodity. They know you, so they think they have easy access to him. The wolves are howling in your fields, Phil. Better build a fence."
Phidias furrowed his brow.
"Well, Caddy's only 14, I don't think - "
"I suppose you don't."
Dr. Long drawled the words, making their meaning clear, giving them just the right thrust and momentum to horrify. Phidias couldn't answer for a minute, just breathed and thought about the awful nature of what had been implied.
"But who? Who would...?"
Dr. Long shrugged.
"Cannot say for sure, Phil. But trust me, you'll see."
Phidias took a step back; the milk was getting warm from being clasped so tightly in his hand. His stomach felt rocky again. Dr. Long casually watched his retreat.
"Decide now who your friends are, Phil. Because it won't be so easy farther down the line."

~:~