The Grief Team by David Collins Read Free Book Online Page A

Thomases.
    “Mr. Strachan, are you aware that Gordon Latimer may have been a spy for the Papal State?”
    Emmett’s jaw, rescued abruptly by his right hand, did not quite hit the floor. When he finally found his voice, it had the pubescent sque ak of a thirteen-year-old boy. “No-o, I...I had no idea. That is, Gordon never said...he never...I had no idea that he was a recidivist Catholic!”
    “I don’t believe that for a minute,” Elise said sharply, unamused by the ugly little black caterpillars crawling across the man’s forehead.
    John-Roger Scott made the appropriate tick in the appropriate column and smiled. “No one ever does really. These religious types are very good at disguising themselves.”  John-Roger Scott stood, clipping his stylus neatly onto his shirt pocket. “Thank you very much for your cooperation, Mr. and Mrs. Strachan. I believe that I have everything I need.”
    Emmett offered a wan smile of gratitude, somehow masking the tidal wave of disbelief which swept over him. Gordon Latimer?  A spy for the Papal State? What had he been doing in the Crematoria that Emmett did not know about?  There was barely room in his astonishment for the possibility that this Greenband was lying, but it squeezed its way in regardless. It had to be a red herring, designed to keep him off-balance. Gordon and the Pope? Ridiculous! 
    “Thank you for your hospitality,” announced Scott, his caterpillars squaring up in strict formation. “Before I leave, I would appreciate the privilege of offering to your son, Marcus. As you know, a Greenband does not have parental rights.” The caterpillars stretched wistfully. “I hope to be promoted soon and meet my wife. I hope that she will want a boy too.”  He smiled wistfully at Elise, adding sotto voce, “I’ve been to Cedarbrae to look at the Embryo Listings. I’ve always been partial to red-hair.”
    Elise smiled, but did not give voice to her hope that the child would not be programmed with bushy red caterpillars. Emmett followed them into the mallway as Elise called for Marcus.
    Emmett was awash in conflictions. While supervising and enforcing the regulations of the Crematoria, Gordon had somehow discovered the problem in Cedarbrae. The package in Emmett’s possession…something in Emmett’s stomach lurched violently and his hands flew to his mouth to prevent whatever was on its way up from escaping. He forced himself to gulp and swallow; fortunately, out of the line of sight of the Greenband.
    He didn’t think he wanted to know any more. Whatever Gordon Latimer had done or was doing at the time the Wildkids signed his death warrant with a zipstick, it could only lead to disaster for Emmett and his own family if further suspicions were raised. The package had to be destroyed. Thus decided, Emmett made a show of presenting Marcus to John-Roger Scott, making it abundantly clear that the Strachans were loyal Mall citizens with nothing to hide. 
    Deuce, darn, and drat!
                 

FOUR
     
    An opportunity to sit on one of the stools at the Druxy’s counter enjoying a chocolate-frosted donut (or two) and several hot cups of the best instant coffee in the mall—Druxy’s private stock had been purloined from the old Nescafé warehouse—was always a pleasurable experience for Gabriel. Every man had his failings, of course. Gabriel, passionate only about his life’s work, would allow that the donuts at Druxy’s, particularly the double-dipped, were irresistible. Unlike Elias, who gained pounds by merely thinking of donuts, Gabriel ate freely with no visible results. Elias envied him for it and it was a sore point between them at meals on those few occasions when their schedules overlapped and father and son shared a meal in their apartment.
    To the Mall-children, Gabriel was the Grief Team; a celebrated hero, regardless of his own private, slightly-less-glorified assessment of his own worth. Children quickly picked him out whenever he