CHAPTER 16 - A NEW APPOINTMENT PART I

Melanie sat in her seat at the council table like someone was holding her there. While she didn't much care for the meetings, she made an effort at least to attend when she could. And as that this was a morning meeting, she couldn't very well fall back on her standard 'I had to work late' excuse to get out of it. But to her it still felt like sitting in a den of lions and she was the only steak in the room. It didn't matter or help much that Layton constantly assured her more people in the room were for her than against her, she still couldn't shake the feeling of being the outsider.

"Then try attending more." Layton had advised her. "Of course they'll see you as the outsider when you're hardly ever there."

"I have a train to tend to, Layton." She quickly defended. "Council meetings don't keep your train running and they don't always work with my schedule."

Layton frowned at the answer. "Because you don't want them to. I swear, you would blow that engine up if it meant you could miss a council meeting because of it."

Melanie dismissed the suggestion. "Don't be ridiculous." She replied sincerely. "Why would I blow up the whole engine when I could easily disable a circuit board and get the same result?"

Layton sighed to himself. "I'll take that you actually thought that through as a good sign."

But even if she didn't always attend, Layton never missed a single meeting. As head of the council, he maintained it was his responsibility to be there. And so it was with a certain amount of foreboding that Melanie sat in her chair, nervously glancing around the table at the other council members talking among themselves as they waited for Layton to arrive.

It was finally Roche, Layton's head of security now, who approached her with a quiet whisper as he leaned around her chair from the side.

"It's been nearly 15 minutes." He said. "Maybe you ought to see what's keeping him."

Melanie nodded as she quickly got up from her chair, grateful for any reason to leave the room. But her action caused most of the people in the room to fall silent as they turned to her.

She gave them a small, uncomfortable smile.

"I'll see what's keeping Mr. Layton." She said simply, and all but bolted from the room.

Making her way to the cabin, which wasn't far from the front of the train or the council room, Melanie quickly began formulating a plan that would allow her not to have to return.

But all of her ideas quickly dissipated as soon as she stepped into the cabin.

At first Layton was nowhere in sight. But a slight sound from the bedroom quickly attracted her attention. That was the last place she had seen him this morning when she had left to check on things in the engine room before heading to the meeting. She assumed he had gotten up in that time, dressed, and eventually headed for the same destination.

Instead Layton was still curled up in the bed, several blankets wrapped tightly around him as his body shivered slightly. Carefully she caressed her hand over his forehead. Having raised a child, she knew what a fever felt like. And she would bet his was already in the low 100's.

Already knowing the procedures for such a situation, she stayed in the room and waited for someone to now come looking for her. On the train, any contact with someone showing any sign of illness was cause for immediate self-quarantine.

In the meantime she did what she could for her roommate.

Going to the bathroom, she fetched a small washcloth and, running water over it, wringed it out and went back to the bedroom. With a small amount of fighting, Melanie managed to get Layton to relinquish the covers, get him out of top of his thermals, and began rubbing the wet cloth over his arms, chest and face. But for all intents and purposes, she didn't get the impression he even knew she was there.

Eventually a knock sounded on the door. Melanie was betting on either Roche or Till as she hurried to answer it.

"Roche?" Melanie went with her first guess.

"Melanie? It's Till." Roche's second-in-command answered her. "Is everything all right?"

Melanie breathed a sigh of relief. "Till, Layton's very sick. I need Dr. Pelton to come quickly, please."

When no answer came to her request, Melanie returned to the bedroom, assuming Till had immediately taken off.

As straight forward as they came, Melanie sort of liked Till. She was as no-nonsense as they came, which appealed to the train's chief engineer. When you set Till on a task, she saw it through, no question. But Melanie admitted at times even Till gave her a run for her money in the 'Lets get this done and over with' department.

Several long moments later Till returned with Dr. Pelton, who entered the cabin looking like she was headed into a surgery theater with gloves and a mask and the additional head covering which completely shielded her face.

While illnesses were not unknown on the train, everything was treated at first like a life threatening matter until proven otherwise. And while the train had or could produce medication for the standard illnesses that cropped up from time to time, a virus was a different matter all together. One mutated strain on the train could spell disaster for the ruminants of humanity.

Running several tests, Pelton finally turned to Melanie.

"Could be a cold. Could be the flu. Could be bubonic plague. Hard to tell until I draw some blood and run an analysis. How long have you had contact?"

Melanie froze at the question. She would like to have lied and said she came in the cabin and found him that way. While several members of the train knew she and Layton shared the cabin, it wasn't common knowledge. And she liked to keep it that way.

Trying not to look nervous, Melanie simply replied, "A few hours."

Pelton kept her stare fixed on her. "A few 'hours'?"

"We...were discussing a matter...about the Ag cars last night. We were up quite late."

Thankfully Pelton seemed to loose interest in the 'hows' and 'whys' of the situation.

"If it was longer than one hour of close contact, you are to stay in this room until I've finished the blood work. Anyone else he's had contact with in the last three days?"

"Layton sees people all day long." Melanie replied in disbelief that anyone could seriously ask that question. "It's hard to say how many people he's had contact with."

Pelton waved off the explanation. "I'll rush the blood work. Should have an answer in a few hours."

Melanie watched her leave the bedroom after she drew some blood, but all of her thoughts were now on her engine. She could be stuck in the cabin for a few hours or a few days. She was totally at the mercy of something she had no control over.

Sighing to herself as she listened to the cabin's outer door slide shut, she thought that so many things in her life as of late seemed to come down to that situation. She had a plan. She had the means by which to execute it. Than out of nowhere, something or someone would fly directly into the face of her well thought out plan and completely destroy it.

Slowly her gaze drifted to the man in her bed, now calmed down and peacefully sleeping.

She thought this is where it all had ended. This is where her life had begun to fall apart.

With him.

And it was also where her life had started again.

After he had taken the train from her, all she had wanted was peace and quiet for her life. She consigned to let Layton run the train. He had won his revolution, and thereby won that right. And if she was honest with herself about the whole situation, she was more than happy to let him. She was back in the engine room, doing what she loved. She had never wanted to be the leader of the train. It was a position thrust upon her, not one she chose.

But then one day a man, an insignificant Tailie, burst into her safe, controlled life, and stripped everything out of her hands.

Oh, she was angry at first. Furious that this man, who had less than no standing at all on her train, was now running it.

But after the initial shock wore off, she came to find she actually liked her new life. Instead of daily having to deal with the petty squabbles of the passengers, of having to make sure everything balanced out at the end of each and every day, of keeping her secret safe...instead, now she got up every day, put on her engineer's uniform, and stepped into the hallowed spaces of her beloved engine. And there she stayed for the whole of each day, with no one coming to her with a single problem that didn't involve the workings of the train's engine.

But then one day he had come looking for her. Looking for her advice.

She had wanted to slam the door in his face and leave him to figure out his own problems, just as she had had to do.

But then she had inadvertently slipped her hand into her pocket. Her fingers quickly finding the photograph safely tucked away there. She wasn't sure at the time why she carried it around with her like some talisman. But it had found a permanent home in her pocket.

Gently running her fingers over it, she found herself standing there and listening to his problem. She thought about how lost he looked. And frightened. Like he had stepped into a high stakes game where he had no idea what the rules were and no one was willing to help him. In that moment she thought back to her earlier days of running the train. When she had first started and the realization of what she had undertaken was starting to settle on her. But unlike this man standing before her, she hadn't had anyone she could turn to for help. Even Bennett didn't offer her much guidance. He was mainly, and rightly so, more interested in those days in making sure the train would keep running. Another task she was also shouldered with. But at least she had his help on that front.

But Bennett wasn't involved with the 'running' of the train.

In those early days, most of the mechanical operations did fall to Knox, and he had his own share of struggles, learning as quickly as he could from her while she tried to help him. But she also had to deal with the more mundane day to day operations of the train. Those were the days she didn't like to remember. Days where she sometimes serious wondered if she couldn't just run and hide in the Tail, blending in among the insignificant and uncared for. If she couldn't go there and just...exist.

And now here he was. Her worse enemy on the train. Coming to her looking for a short cut. And easy route paved with all her hard won knowledge.

Wanting to use her.

But again her fingers gently caressed the photograph in her pocket. And a new thought began to take hold unbidden from within her. And she listened. And in the end she had offered him a solution.

She had hoped that would be the last she saw of him.

She knew better.

And just as she knew he would, he came back. But to her surprise he hadn't just come back to garner what knowledge he could off of her or empty handed. He came with a gift. And for each time after that, he never failed even once to not show her appreciation for her help.

And she watched him learn, and grow, and become the train's leader. But not alone. In her memory, he was never alone in that. As much as she told herself she didn't want the position, she still found herself watching over him. Guiding him. Helping him through the harsher realities of keeping nearly 3000 of the last members of the human race safe and alive.

Over time she believed he had done it on purpose. Lured her back into a role she hadn't wanted any part of anymore. And he had all but admitted to it later.

"You may not want to lead the train anymore." He told her. "But that doesn't stop the train from needing you, Melanie."

A soft moan from the bed drew her out of her thoughts. Reaching over she gently brushed a damp strand back and laid her hand over his forehead.

Getting up she went back to the bathroom and rinsed the washcloth out, then returned to the bedroom. Laying it over his forehead, she seated herself on the bed next to him.

It was going to be a long day from her estimates.

Thankfully, all Layton seemed to want to do was sleep. He wasn't much of a troublesome patient otherwise, with the exception that during the late morning he had managed to steal every pillow over to his side of the bed and now lay in a veritable Shangri-La of soft pillows. Melanie frowned at him as she mapped out where all her pillows were. She had even tried to steal one back so she could take a nap as well that morning.

He had literally growled at her.

Sighing to herself, she took a cover and rolled it up to use instead.

"You're lucky you're sick." She grumbled back at him.

In response Layton happily hugged one of her pillows tightly to his chest as he gave a deep sigh and settled back to sleep.

A loud knock on the cabin door woke her in the late afternoon. Assuming it was Pelton coming back with the results of the blood work, Melanie was surprised to find Henry Klimpt standing at the door instead.

"Dr, Klimpt." She stated. "I...I wasn't expecting..."

The man all but pushed past her into the cabin. "Yes. I know. Dr. Pelton was treating Mr. Layton. But she asked me to consult when the blood work didn't come back normal."

The fact that the man was dressed in a mask and gloves and was keeping his distance from her spoke volumes to Melanie before he even delivered his message.

"Did you find out what's wrong with Layton?" She asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

Klimpt paused for a moment, raising Melanie's fears even more.

"I didn't come up with anything specific, Ms. Cavill, but I can tell you what it's not. It's not a bacterial infection. But it's no simple virus either. Whatever is wrong, it's aggressive and it's moving through his system fast. Now, this could be something simple and it just needs to run it's course. Most people on the train were vaccinated against common strains before boarding, so they should be all right. We've actually been working the past few months to vaccinate those who aren't. But there's still enough unvaccinated people to make this dangerous if it starts to spread. That's the reason I want to move Mr. Layton to the clinic. Zarah's already been informed and she gave permission to treat him as we see fit."

"Zarah?" Melanie asked in confusion. "What has she got to do with this?"

"She's his closest relative on the train." Klimpt explained even as two similarly dressed assistants entered the room behind him with a gurney.

Melanie watched as they placed Layton on the bed and quickly began to wheel him out of the room. Deciding she wasn't just going to let them take him with hardly any explanation, she quickly ran after them.

"Just a minute!" She all but yelled after them, moving to block the cabin's front door. "You can't just take him without telling me why."

"He's sick." Was the answer she got as Klimpt carefully moved her to the side, allowing the assistants to wheel Layton out of the cabin.

As she started to follow, Melanie found herself stopped at the door. "And you are still in quarantine until we know what's wrong with him." He stated, letting the door slide shut behind him as he left.

Melanie stood staring at the door, frozen there as she thought over the implications of the events.

Klimpt had been a research scientist who also served as one of Snowpiercer's doctors. His diverse background made him invaluable to the train for just such occurrences as this. A potentially unknown virus springing up among the passengers.

But what worried her even more was that Klimpt was also responsible for tending to those consigned to the drawers.

Fighting a strong internal battle, Melanie willed herself to stay where she was. Everything in her wanted to run after them. To stay with Layton. To make sure he was taken care properly. If she was still in charge of the train, she told herself ruefully, she would be able to make sure everything possible was done for him.

But she wasn't.

Slowly she turned from the door and walked back to the bedroom.

Not only wasn't she in charge of things, she couldn't even leave the cabin. If she did, she posed a threat the rest of the train.

Sighing to herself, she went back to the bedroom and lay on the bed. There wasn't much else she could do. The medical staff would inform Bennett of the situation so things would run smoothly there. But at some point they would have to let her out. Bennett and Javi were good engineers, but they didn't know everything about the train. Eventually it would require her knowledge to run all the right tests that made sure the engine was operating properly and prevent potential shut downs of systems.

That evening Klimpt return with several men in tow, all dressed in haz-mat suits.

Melanie's first concern was her roommate. "How is Layton?"

"The good news," Klimpt told her, forever trying to put a positive spin on the situation, "is that it isn't a virus."

"And the bed news?" Melanie asked.

"The infection is bacterial. I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the cabin so it can be sprayed."

"For how long!"

"24 hours should do it. For the protection of the train, during that time you will be confined to the medical car in isolation."

Melanie gave herself the consolation that she may at least now be able to see Layton and assure herself he was being properly cared for. But those hopes also came to a quick end when Melanie arrived in the medical car and found herself immediately placed in a quarantine room.

"We should know if you're safe in about 48 hours." Klimpt told her with a pleasant smile.

Melanie frowned at him through the glass window on her room. "48 hours? You said 24."

The ever pleasant smile remained. "24 got you to come along peacefully, Ms. Cavill." He replied, then quickly departed with a brief wave.

Melanie's frown deepened as she watched him leave. She made a mental note that her first night out of isolation, the heat in someone's cabin was going to get mysteriously cut off.

The next 48 hours were pure torture for her, lessened only slightly by the fact Javi and Bennett came to see her, giving her regular updates on the engine. And she used the time productively to teach them several tests they cold run on the circuits to make sure everything was running correctly and what indicators to look for.

What she didn't appreciate was the entire medical staffs apparent conspiracy to not allow her any information on Layton's condition. Whenever she asked, which on range was every hour of each day, she only got a pleasant 'He's doing fine.' in response before said staff member quickly moved on. Several times she had threatened to simply go find out for herself, to which she would note the person on the other side of the glass window covertly checking the lock on the door before they left.

After the first 36 hours, she finally resigned herself to the rest of her incarceration. She knew the room was well isolated. Escape from it was nearly impossible.

Nearly, but not entirely.

And when those thoughts started to creep into her plans, she steadfastly reminded herself that this was for the good of the train and it was only for 48 hours. After that she could see Layton and reassure herself he was being properly cared for.

When the 48 hours were up, Melanie bolted out of the room as soon as they unlocked the door and headed start for the medical wing with a no-nonsense 'Where's Mr. Layton!' demand.

But once she got there, all she was greeted by was an empty isolation room where the most ill patients were kept until they were properly diagnosed.

A feeling she could barely even name seized hold of her as her mouth hung open in an unasked question.

Where was he? This was isolation. This is where he should be.

Her mind worked through scenarios at a brake-neck speed.

Maybe he got better. He was waiting for her in their cabin. They would have dinner. They would go to bed, get up in the morning, and life would go on just it had for the last several months.

Everything would be fine.

But the thought quickly slipped away as another shoved it's way in to take its place.

All they ever told her was 'He's fine.'. No details. No change in the statement. Just 'He's fine.'.

They knew she was worried. How worried surely showed in her near constant pacing of the room. Her constant requests for updates on his condition. To be allowed to see him.

But they hadn't acquiesced to one single demand for information.

Why?

To keep her calm? To keep the truth from her? Not to upset her while she was in her own isolation?

Turning quickly to the staff member behind her, Melanie tried to hold her voice steady.

"Where is he?" She asked.

The orderly took a step back. "I think you'll need to take that up with Dr. Klimpt." She informed her.

The feeling Melanie had had before now fell like a rock into her stomach. She wanted to hear something from the young woman.

Anything!

Just to say he was still alive.

Turning slowly, Melanie followed the assistant back out of the isolation ward to the doctor's office area.

Leading her into a room, Melanie now found herself facing both Pelton and Klimpt.

In her opinion, the situation was deteriorating quickly.

"How are you feeling, Ms. Cavill?" Klimpt asked.

"Where is Mr. Layton?" She asked in return. She was trying to be civilized and polite, but she swore if someone didn't answer that one question she was on the verge of losing it.

Klimpt sighed quietly as he stared back at her. "It's not a casual question, Ms. Cavill." He replied. "Mr. Layton was extremely ill. And we're still not sure..."

But Melanie only heard one word out of the man's mouth.

"Was?"