Not bad for my second day on the job. Major Burt Daniels leaned back and inspected his office. Granted, the place was now nothing but empty bookcases, the desk, three chairs, and bare walls. The monitors across from him showed all six wards of his new universe. The hallways appeared mostly empty, the lunatics all peacefully locked away where they couldn’t harm anyone or themselves.
“But we’ll fix that, won’t we?” He nodded in a gesture of self-assurance. Granted, some, perhaps most, had permanently broken brains, but those others, the malingerers and slackers, they could probably be brought back to some level of productivity.
He frowned at the dawning awareness. What had been a distant helicopter now sounded much closer. His first instinct was to glance out the window—which his office didn’t have. Next, he turned his attention to the monitors, none of which gave a view of the outside.
Daniels pressed his intercom. Janeesha’s voice said, “Yes, sir?”
“Did I have an appointment this afternoon?” Surely, if General Grazier or someone important was flying in, they’d have let him know.
“No, sir.”
He pushed back in his chair, stood, and frowned. Walking over to the monitors, he studied the displays, wondering how the system worked. Surely, they had cameras outside.
Back at his desk, he pulled out the sheet listing different extensions, found security, and lifted his phone as he pressed in the number.
He listened to the ring, then started counting. “Four . . . five . . . six . . .” At twelve he gave up and slammed the phone down. He pressed Janeesha’s button.
“Yes, sir?”
“Who’s on duty at the security center?”
“Corporal Hatcher, sir. Until five o’clock.”
“He’s not at his post. I may be new here, but I’m not a marshmallow like Colonel Ryan was. From the moment I set foot in this facility, things changed.” He caught his breath, red-faced, and hot. “So, you find Corporal Hatcher now. And, Janeesha?”
“Yes, sir?”
“If he’s not in front of my desk within fifteen minutes, you start preparing the paperwork for a disciplinary action, you hear me?”
“Yes, sir!”
“No excuses, Janeesha.”
“No, sir!”
He slammed the phone down, glaring at the monitors where occasional staff strolled on about their duties. He heard the helicopter spooling up, the rotors chattering as they bit air.
“And racket like that is going to stop.”
He grinned as he pressed Janeesha’s button again.
“Yes, sir?”
“Find out who’s flying that damned helicopter. This is a mental hospital, not an airport. See if someone can get the registration number. Whoever’s flying that thing better have a damn good reason, or if I have my way, he’ll end up in here with the rest of the incompetents.”