The great bell of South River woke Angelo before sunrise.
Its deep metallic sound rolled across the town, followed by the distant rumble of machinery beginning somewhere beyond the houses.
Angelo opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
For several seconds, he didn't remember where he was.
Then reality returned.
South River.
He groaned.
A knock came at the door.
Before he could answer, another knock followed.
"Master Angelo?"
He sat up.
"Come in."
The door opened and a young woman stepped inside carrying a bucket of warm water.
Angelo blinked.
She was probably around his age. Maybe twenty-three or twenty-four. She had dark hair tied neatly behind her head and a quiet, pleasant face.
She placed the bucket beside the washstand.
"Good morning, Master Angelo. My name is Maya. I've been instructed to help you get ready for work."
Angelo stared at her.
He didn't know what to say.
Maya waited.
When he still said nothing, she gave a small bow and turned toward the door.
"Wait."
She looked back.
"Sorry."
"For what?"
Angelo rubbed his face.
"Nothing. I was just..."
He couldn't finish.
Maya smiled faintly.
"I'll bring breakfast."
She left.
Angelo sat on the edge of the bed.
"What is wrong with me?"
Yesterday he had arrived in South River convinced that everyone here had given up on life. Now he was sitting like an idiot because a young woman had brought him bath water.
He shook his head.
"This is going to be a long two years."
After washing, he attacked the bowl of porridge Maya had brought him.
He couldn't identify half the ingredients, but hunger quickly made that irrelevant.
When he finished, he stepped downstairs.
Sis Dolly was waiting.
"Good morning, Master Angelo."
"Morning."
She smiled.
"Come. They are waiting for you."
"Who?"
"Your mine staff."
That got his attention.
She led him through a narrow corridor and opened a door.
Angelo stopped.
The room looked nothing like the rest of the boarding house.
It was clean, spacious and surprisingly modern. A large desk stood near the window. Filing cabinets lined one wall, while a telephone and several pieces of office equipment occupied another.
There were six men inside.
Unlike the miners he had seen yesterday, these men were clean and well dressed.
A short, broad-shouldered man stood.
He had a thick moustache and enormous hands covered in calluses.
"Mr. Black."
He extended his hand.
"I'm Moses Russell. Most people call me Russell. I've been managing the South River operation."
Angelo shook his hand.
"Angelo."
Russell smiled.
"Of course."
He introduced the other members of the management team and briefly explained their responsibilities.
Angelo listened carefully.
For the first time since arriving, he felt something approaching responsibility.
This wasn't university anymore.
This was his mother's company.
And apparently, it was now his problem.
"Before we get into the paperwork," Russell said, "I thought you should see the operation."
"Good."
They left the boarding house and climbed into a small company truck.
The mine was only a short distance away.
As they approached, Angelo's mood changed.
The deeper they drove into the mining district, the worse the conditions became.
The roads were barely maintained.
Waste was scattered around the edges.
The air carried a strange chemical smell.
Angelo lowered the window.
Then immediately raised it again.
"What exactly is being mined here?"
"Uranium ore," Russell answered.
Angelo turned toward him.
"Uranium?"
Russell nodded.
"Processed here and eventually refined into yellow cake."
Angelo looked back toward the mine.
He had known his family owned mining interests.
He hadn't realized this was what he was being sent to manage.
They entered through the main gate and continued toward the administration building.
Angelo noticed workers everywhere.
Some were carrying equipment.
Others were coming out of the shafts.
Their faces were covered in dirt.
Many were coughing.
He frowned.
"What's that building?"
He pointed toward a battered structure at the far eastern side of the compound.
A group of workers sat outside it.
Some were lying down.
Others simply stared into space.
Russell hesitated.
"The sickbay."
Angelo looked at him.
"What kind of sickness?"
"Nothing unusual."
The answer came too quickly.
Angelo narrowed his eyes.
"Nothing unusual?"
Russell cleared his throat.
"We can discuss it later."
Angelo said nothing.
But he remembered the faces.
They continued the tour.
The mine itself was worse than he expected.
Safety equipment was outdated.
Sanitation was poor.
Several areas appeared dangerously overcrowded.
Angelo began making mental notes.
This wasn't simply an old mine.
Something was wrong.
After nearly two hours, Russell finally announced that the tour was over.
They returned to the administration office.
Angelo sat down.
Then remembered the sickbay.
"Why didn't we go there?"
Russell looked uncomfortable.
"There wasn't much to see."
"I disagree."
"Mr. Black—"
"Take me there."
Russell didn't move.
"Sir, I think it's better if—"
Angelo stood.
"Then I'll go myself."
He walked toward the door.
Russell hurried after him.
"Mr. Black, please."
Angelo turned.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Russell lowered his voice.
"There's an outbreak."
Angelo stared at him.
"What?"
"An illness has been spreading among the workers."
"How many?"
Russell hesitated.
"More than we can handle."
Angelo's expression hardened.
"And you're telling me this now?"
"We've been trying to control it."
"Trying?"
Russell looked away.
Angelo stepped closer.
"How long?"
"Several months."
Angelo felt something cold settle in his stomach.
"Several months?"
"Yes."
"And production has continued?"
Russell didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Angelo understood.
He walked past him toward the sickbay.
"Then show me."
"Sir—"
"Show me."
Russell finally followed.
Neither man noticed the figure standing on a distant ridge overlooking the mine.
The figure raised a pair of binoculars.
And watched Angelo carefully.