The Disease (The Adventures of Nora Watson Book 3): The Tales of Nora Watson, #3

By S. Andrea Milne

The Earth's lakes and oceans are mostly gone, and grass has been replaced with red sand. Humans survive their inhospitable environment by living together in huge cement compounds. Survive, that is, if they aren't crippled by a degenerative disease that plagues the world.

No longer welcome in her home compound of Nu, seventeen year old Nora Watson decides to make the long, slow journey to the Central Government Compound earlier than planned. Her partner Tomas Classen makes the trek too, and quickly finds himself a job and meets friends. Nora, however, is denied her life-long dream to become a scientist. How is she going to discover the true cause of the disease now?

Relationships and dreams become more complicated when Nora meets her estranged father, Norman Janner. Worse, he seems to be doing everything in his power to keep the real cause of the disease a secret—and he's enlisted an old acquaintance to help him. Now Nora has to choose between doing what's right, and what her father wants her to do.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. Andrea Milne
• Release date: Feb 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9780992129422

Book preview

Thanks and Acknowledgements:

I would like to thank several people who helped me during the process of completing Nora’s final story. This manuscript fell into the abyss of my computer hard drive without being completed sometime in 2013, during which time I re-located half-way across North America, had a child, re-located again, and wondered all the while what I was going to do with my life.

I have to thank my husband, Andrew, who has always encouraged me to pursue my passion for writing.

Thank you to 17 Studio Book Design for the beautiful cover for The Disease and for all three novels that make up the Adventures of Nora Watson.

Finally, a big thanks goes out to those who were involved in the editing and proof reading of this manuscript including Katherine T and Ruth H.

Chapter 1: Voyage’s End

N orman Janner? I’m you’re daughter, Nora Watson. I paused. It sounded so unnatural spoken aloud, like I’d made it up, and not only was I trying to convince him, but myself as well. I’d been without a father for seventeen years. Why did I need one now?

I continued. Do you remember my mother, Marianne? She moved to Nu compound before I was born. I grew up there. Now what? Do I tell him she’s dead? Does he already know? Is he wondering what I’m doing here now after years without contact? How much do I tell him about that? That I was kicked out of Nu because I’m a troublemaker? No, don’t tell him. If he thinks I’m a problem child, he won’t want anything to do with me.

I’m here to take the scientist exam—and I’m hoping to stay when I’m done. My mother—Marianne—she taught me a lot about the disease, I have a letter from the science teacher at Nu recommending me for early admission into the Central Government Compound scientist program...I’ve still got a year before I reach my adult birthday, but I assure you I’ve been studying advance genetics for several years.

Do I tell him about my accident? That I hadn’t fully regained fine motor control in my right hand and how it might be difficult for me to work in the lab with microscopes and other instruments? No. I was going to prove myself intellectually first—that I had the knowledge and the eye for details required in a scientist—then I’d address my above normal clumsiness. Who knows? Maybe by then I’ll have regained the dexterity in my hand.

I’ve uncovered some interesting historical points surrounding the occurrence of the disease, which I think deserves further scrutiny. It’s all circumstantial, of course—I’m not accusing anyone of anything, you understand—but I don’t believe that things like the disease pop up for no good reason. That’s part of why I’ve come here. I’m hoping you could help me in my research—I mean, since I can’t access the labs yet. I need a full-fledged scientist to take a look for me and see if they can confirm my suspicions—my mother’s really, she was the one who noticed it first—

Nora.

—I’m not exactly sure how she came to her conclusion about the rice, as I don’t think she did the same historical investigation I did, but she realized there was a connection—

Nora.

—and she found some interesting similarities between the DNA in the rice, and the DNA in the disease cells, unfortunately it seems she was stopped before she was able to make a full scientific analysis—

Nora, stop. Take a breath. How much are you planning to blurt out to your father within the first five minutes of meeting him?

I stopped. Took a deep breath in through my nose then let it slowly seep out through my mouth. I focused my attention on the handsome face of my companion, Tomas Classen. I’d settled on referring to Tomas as my companion. Partner seemed too official, too grown up, too long-term and I still wasn’t ready for that, so we were companions. His crystal blue eyes stared steadily back at me, the fingers of his right hand interlaced lightly with the fingers of my left hand. He smiled.

Just say, ‘Norman Janner, I’m your daughter, Nora Watson,’ then stop.

But what if he doesn’t say anything, or laughs at me, or worse, just walks away? What am I supposed to do then? I squeeze Tomas’ hand tighter as I pulled at my ponytail with my bad hand.

Then your monolog will be totally wasted anyway. He’ll need time to process the fact that you’re his daughter. You don’t need to bombard him with a hundred other facts. Tomas stretched his legs out in front of him, off at an angle so they didn’t collide with mine. We’d been sitting for several hours and would probably need to go for a walk around the deck soon.

What if he doesn’t believe me? Then what am I supposed to do? What did my voice sound like now? Was it whiney? Desperate? Whatever it was, it wasn’t confident—this was by far the most terrifying thing I’d ever done—including standing before the council at Nu while being told I had to leave.

Tomas pushed my hand away as he shook his head, looking skyward. We’ve been over this. It doesn’t matter if Mr. Janner believes you—about being his daughter—that’s not why we’re making this trip.

I grasped at Tomas’ hand and pulled it to my chest, clinging to him like he was a safety blanket. I know, but what if he wants nothing to do with me? What if he hated my mother, and hates me by association? Then what am I supposed to do? Maybe I should skip it, avoid him altogether. He’s supposedly not to a scientist anymore—

Nora. Tomas was smiling now.

I was entertaining him, giving him a good laugh. He was probably wondering where my worries would end this time. I needed him to be supportive and comforting, not amused by my neurotic tendencies. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be so calm and cool, and seem not the least perturbed by the fact that he’d left all his family and friends behind?

You’ve been planning to travel to the Central Government Compound for longer than I’ve known you. You were going to come without knowing a thing about your father—

But if he doesn’t want me...Getting rejected, even when you expect it, it really sucks. Tears prickled around the rims of my eyes. I’d been sweating over the first meeting with my father every night for the past month and a half, since I learned he existed.

It was true, I’d been dreaming about moving to the Central Government Compound even longer, since my mother died, but the possibility of a living father had thrown a wrench into things. In some ways, it would have been better to have learned of his identity and discovered that he was dead rather than run the chance that he detested the mention of my name. What if he’s—

To the best of the knowledge of the scientists at Nu, your father is alive and well. His signature was on the most recent laboratory procedures communiqué. Tomas stood and pulled me to him. Let’s take a walk. Or would you rather find someone to join us in a game of Pirates?

A walk, I said and stood. Few things existed in the world that I hated more than the card game Pirates—possibly because what I hated most was real cheats, thieves, and liars.

Tomas looped his arm through mine as we wound our way through the chairs sprawled across the observation deck of the intercontinental solar sailor. We joined the handful of other travellers circling the track, its white lanes painted onto the tiled floor to keep order among the passengers. Walking the track for half an hour at least three times a day was a recommended exercise for all passengers on the voyage, not only to help maintain physical fitness, but also to help pass the time. It didn’t do much for the latter, since I knew precisely how long it took me to walk the two-hundred-yard track and could count the minutes, by keeping track of our many laps.

A number of other busy-work tasks were available to help the month-long journey pass, but we rarely took part. Most of the other passengers were adults with young children, and provided little conversation for us; however, there were always a few who were willing to try their hand against Tomas at Pirates. I usually watched and attempted not to appear bored.

WE WALKED UNTIL THE supper bell rang, five-thirty on the dot. The food on the sailor was the terrible. Nothing was fresh. At the beginning of the journey the ship was loaded with canned and dried foods, enough for each person who’d boarded plus an extra week in case of emergencies. It wasn’t the fault of the food staff. We were stuck on a boat, and after nearly a month we merely picked at the canned tomatoes, which tasted mostly of water, and the mushy carrots that I only assumed were carrots because they were orange—more or less. With no real physical labour to work up our appetites, yet no lack of substance to keep us from starving, we lived in a constant state of non-hunger.

The sailor’s dining hall was identical to every compound I’d visited: a long rectangular room with benches in the middle, and a metal counter at one end where diners picked up trays and were served glops of food. At least here my reputation didn’t precede me, and we were able to eat our meals in peace, without being stared at or whispered about. Even so, we tended to eat quickly then move on. We’d been travelling together long enough that we’d run out of new things to discuss. Even the other passengers, whose stories had provided us with some diversion in the beginning, were disinclined to talk much during meals, or any other time, really.

Our routine by this point in the journey was for Tomas to stay behind in the dining hall for a game of Pirates, while on most nights I studied. Early on, I’d attempted to stay in the hall where I’d at least be in the company of others, but I quickly found that since I didn’t play, and couldn’t converse with anyone not directly facing me, I was ignored. Truthfully, I was relieved to escape to the relative peace below deck. Desk space was limited, and generally reserved for adults—especially if they were a Government employee on a work assignment—but immediately after dinner I could usually find one empty for an hour or so.

I split my time between studying for the scientist’s exam and rereading my mother’s journals. Studying was the same as it had always been, and the journals...all I’d learned was that my mother speculated a great deal but could prove little. By the time she’d gotten a hold of an unblemished rice sample, my mother was suffering from an aggressive strain of the disease and could barely hobble on crutches. On top of that, she’d had to conduct her analyses in secret since the other scientists at Nu wouldn’t hear a word of her theories. They saw her as dangerous—a belief that I’d discovered the hard way was still prevalent.

At the outset of our journey, I’d hoped to find additional proof in my mother’s notes, but I didn’t even have the instrument printouts from the original DNA analysis. All I had were my mother’s handwritten notes recording her findings. Anyone who disagreed could easily claim that I—or my mother—had made up the results, and that would be the end of that. My best hope was to pass the scientist exam so I could run tests myself and support my mother’s theories. If I’d learned nothing else over the past year, I knew I needed absolute proof of my claims before I spouted them off publicly.

Where would I go next if I got kicked out of the Central Government Compound for questioning their honesty and authority? That and I didn’t want Mrs. Classen to have the satisfaction of hearing that I’d been expelled to some third-rate compound after all.

I’d been working for an hour when someone tapped my shoulder. With my eyes still focused on a passage of my mother’s book, I turned the rest of my body in the direction of the shadow. At the last second, I redirected my gaze to find Tomas standing before me. He looked a little flushed, which probably meant he’d had a bad night and lost at cards. When I looked at him more closely, I realized he was smiling.

What’s up? I set my pencil along the crease of my notebook so it wouldn’t roll away. It took me little time on the sailor to learn that round objects like pencils and pens were liable to roll away if I wasn’t careful.

Tomas’ smile increased. A couple of the solar sailor workers said we should reach the continental port in a day or two—

I jumped from my seat and grabbed Tomas around the neck, pulling him to me so tightly that I could feel his heart thumping under his ribcage. He hugged me back and gave the base of my neck a little peck, then pushed me away, so he held me at arm’s length. It depends on the weather.

I know, I know. We haven’t had much sun the last couple of days, and the wind’s been high. The excitement that had quickly swelled subsided to a dull bubbling.

Then we’ll still have three to four more days on another train before we get to the Central Government Compound. Tomas’ expression dulled, as he too seemed to recall that we had little cause to rejoice—yet. He gave my hands a light squeeze as a small smile crept back onto his face. But we’ll be there soon, we’re almost done and then—

My knees turned to jelly and my stomach flip-flopped. I get to meet my father.

It’ll be fine. Tomas’ gaze drifted to some point on the wall behind me. He didn’t really think it would go smoothly. He knew me too well to believe that I could keep my tongue in check, and not spill my entire life story to my father in one breath. I knew myself too well to try to pretend that I wouldn’t either.

If I start to say anything dreadful, I want you to bind and gag me, and drag me off somewhere until I regain my senses. Tomas’ shoulders bounced—a clear sign that once again I was amusing him. I’m serious, I can’t ruin my first meeting with my father—he might never want to speak to me again. Or, he might have me locked up as a dangerous person, or—

Nora.

—I can’t be kicked out of the Central Government Compound the day we arrive. Where will I go? I couldn’t bare the shame—

Nora.

Your mother will have won—

Tomas gripped my shoulders and shook them. When he stopped, the edge of his lips twitched upward as though they wanted to break out into a huge grin, but he was kind enough to fight for composure. Nora, you worry too much. Even if you babble a little in front of your father, I’m sure he won’t have you banished from the Compound.

But—

You only ramble in front of me because I already know everything you have to say, and I love you anyway. Your common sense will kick in enough in front of your father to prevent you from saying too much.

I pried Tomas’ hands from my arms. He had a tendency to hold on a little too tight, like he thought he needed to get a good grasp to keep me grounded or something. I hope you’re right, but if you’re not, you have to stop me, and I reserve the right to say I told you so later.

Now Tomas let his smile spread full across his face. I’ll give you a jab in the shoulder to remind you to shut up—but if I tied you up in front of your father, he might not think I’m very nice, even if it was on your orders.

A small chuckle escaped my lips. I was overreacting, or at least I hoped I was, but I had a hard time keeping my mouth shut, even when I was in serious trouble, never mind when I was nervous.

THE FOLLOWING DAY, the cloud cover cleared enough to spur the sailor on across the murky water, the solar cells soaking up the sun’s power. By lunch, a thin rim of red appeared along the horizon that appeared to be land. By dinner, the strip had grown so that no one doubted that our month-long journey was nearing its end. Instead of taking to the lower levels after dinner to study, I returned to the observation deck to watch the shoreline draw closer. I couldn’t actually perceive the continent approaching, our progress was so slow, but I liked to imagine I could see the distance between us and the land shrink in front of me.

As I sat, I re-ran the first meeting with my father over in my mind. I had to be calm and cool. I would give him my name and my mother’s. Then I would stop and wait. Tomas insisted that he would need to absorb what I told him—he was right. I had to check myself and see if my father was ready to carry on the conversation.

Tomas joined me once the card game had broken up, wearing the contented look of a successful Pirate battle. He didn’t recount the action from the game; rather he slid up next to me on my bench and without a word slipped his arm around my shoulder. By this time, half of the ship’s passengers must have been milling around on the observation deck, all of us anxious to be released from our floating prison. Scanning the assembled crowd, few people talked, and were probably more occupied with counting down the hours and minutes left on the sailor. I nestled into Tomas’ warmth and turned my eyes to the fiery horizon, a mixture of setting sun and the sandy red terrain.

Only when the night had fully closed in around us and the ship’s lights flickered in warning that they would soon turn off, did any of us crowded onto the deck, return to the dorms. Although I couldn’t hear the people around me, I felt a buzz in the air, like electricity throbbing and pulsing, that was probably the excitement in the day’s turn of events. Tomas must have felt it too, as he grabbed my hand and swung it so strong at times that I almost thought he’d throw me off balance. If my spirits weren’t so high, I might have asked him to stop, but as it was, we practically skipped as we navigated the ships maze of hallways and stairs, down to our assigned sleeping quarters.

Below, emotions ran at a more controlled and well-mannered level. Many of the younger children were already asleep or were nestled in with their families for a bedtime story, and with the hint of land out of sight it was an easier to regain self-control. Our bouncing stride sobered as we walked the rows to our double decker bed, where all our worldly possessions were stored.

We’d felt awkward about sharing a double birth, although the ticket would have been less, and instead settled with two single bunks one below the other. More often than not, one of us would crawl in with the other at some point in the evening, claiming to be cold, or unable to sleep, or some other weak excuse for wanting to cozy up. Tonight, I squirmed; tossing from one side to the other, unable to settle down or get comfortable. My mind whirred with the possibilities of tomorrow. Tomas, having no tolerance for my skittishness, returned to his own bed less than ten minutes after joining me.

Tomorrow we would arrive at Haii Complex, the greeting point to the Old Continent, and then we’d only have one more leg left in our journey.

Chapter 2: Wish Come True

We docked late into the evening of the next day, when the sun was only a few streaks of pink and orange in the otherwise black sky. We’d been given the chance to go ashore, but Tomas insisted we’d be better off staying on the sailor for the night.