A freighter at the dock appeared fully loaded, but no workers were on the vessel or the dock. Regina thought it odd that it just sat there. Downtime for a freighter would cost Jenkins Industries much more money than Sam would be willing to pay without exacting a price from someone. The freighter was one of several that would carry thousands of Phase One Space Toilets to ports all over the civilized world. Even with a retail tag of over twenty thousand dollars each, the demand was high. The inaction around the huge vessel reminded Regina of the stakes of their trip. Her vacation was over. The jet banked sharply in descent toward the airstrip near the dock, causing another wave of nausea to hit her.
Sam’s eyes lingered on the freighter as well, which did nothing to improve his sour expression. He stuffed documents back into the envelope, and clasped the file folder closed.
Regina closed her eyes tightly, but resolved to learn what it was in the manila envelope that had upset Sam. This was not the day for additional unwelcome news.
The jet landed smoothly, much to Regina’s relief, and after a short taxi, it pulled to a stop in a concrete hanger. Four security guards in blue shirts and sunglasses stood near a Dominican business man with a shaved head, round glasses, and an infectious smile. Chauncy Perez. His smile faded when he saw Sam and the others stepping down from the plane.
Chauncy’s accent had faded little despite spending six years earning an undergraduate and master’s degree in business at Harvard. “Mr. Jenkins, so happy you came right away, but I did not expect you to bring so many.” He turned to a blue-shirted security guard and said something too low for Regina to hear. “We will need a second car, which will take a couple of minutes to arrive.”
Regina felt sweat forming on her forehead and elsewhere almost immediately. They could walk to the factory – it would take maybe fifteen minutes, but her blouse would be drenched by the time they got there.
“While we wait,” Sam said loudly to be heard over the sound of the crew attending to the jet, “you can tell us about the problem that was too secret to mention over the vid this morning.”
Chauncy’s forehead beaded with sweat and his hands fidgeted. “It would be best for you to see it for yourself. Before I compile my daily report to the Board, I thought you should see it with your own eyes and then we can discuss.”
“Damnit, Chauncy!” Sam’s face glowed with anger. “At least tell me what phase of the operation is having problems.”
Chauncy took a half step back and stammered, “Okay, that should be fine. It is with the floor workers, and the cleaning crew. Well, overall, many of the personnel throughout the facility.”
Sam laughed out loud as his head shook in disbelief. The team members from Houston gathered around, wisely saying nothing. After several tense seconds, he said, “You have me drop everything in the middle of the release of Phase One, while we’re transitioning into Phase Two, and fly to the island. Also, you refused to tell me the nature of the problem, so I decided I should I bring a member from every department I think might be needed, with the only exceptions being someone from human resources, and I arrive to be met with a personnel problem?”
Chauncy nodded. “Well—"
Sam bellowed an interruption, “You have my permission to fire anyone who stands in the way of Phase One being completed! Now, if all you have is a personnel problem – take care of it! I have a dinner with my daughter.” Sam turned and stepped toward the jet.
Regina put a hand on his forearm, partly to calm him, and also because she felt dizzy all of a sudden. She was surprised that it felt noticeably hotter there than it had in Houston. Perhaps it was her body going through that change some women start to endure in their forties. She had been feeling hot flashes in recent weeks. Maybe it was not just work stress.
Sam looked at her, concern replacing the anger for a moment.
Regina said, “We’ve come all this way. We might as well see the problem.” She lowered her voice, “I think Chauncy was trying to help you avoid being surprised by an unfavorable report to the Board.”
“Are you felling well?” Sam’s coloring had at least tempered closer to normal.
“I’d feel better in an air-conditioned car.”
Sam nodded. “Chauncy, my brilliant wife wants us to see this problem, but we want to go with you now. The others can catch up in the second car. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
Chauncy gave Regina a grateful look. “Yes, Mr. Jenkins. This way.” He hurried as though he did not want to give Sam a chance to change his mind.
Regina turned the air conditioning to max and aimed every vent within reach toward her during the silent ride to the factory. Chauncy gave her a concerned look several times during the short drive.
At the private entrance from the executive garage, Sam put his palm on a scanner and inserted a chipped card, not waiting for Chauncy to fumble his card out of his pocket.
Inside the building, several long, dark concrete hallways illumined automatically as the group walked through them, turning dark moments later. A double door enclosing an air lock was their final barrier to reaching the factory floor. It made Regina wonder what besides helicopters had been manufactured in this enormous building.
At first, Regina failed to see any problem on the factory floor. Looking out from the second story management office, which was large enough to host a World Cup party, with the entire wall on the factory floor side being a sheet of tempered glass, workers operated computerized production machinery from one end of the immense room to the other. The office wall opposite the glass was a bank of video monitors where cameras could be zoomed in on every inch of the factory.
“Should that woman be operating a chemical bath control panel? She’s pregnant!” Regina pointed down to a young woman thirty feet blow and near the stairs who had that tell-tale look of a woman in her third trimester.
Nobody immediately answered.
“Or her?” Regina asked, pointing to another pregnant worker, beginning to get irritated. She stepped closer to the glass. Half of the floor workers were women, and the closer she looked, she could see that each one was pregnant. “What is going on?” Her thoughts raced to what might be happening on the island.
“They’re all pregnant. All of them.” Chauncy said, his voice dripping concern.
“I presume not all are married?” Sam asked.
“No. The majority, over 380 of the 450 female floor workers, are single.”
“Are they being raped?” Regina asked, irritation growing to rage.
“No!” Chauncy looked wounded. “Most of the workers stay on the island for months at a time, living in barracks that are divided by gender and secured. Keyed entry with bio confirmation is required to get into the buildings. Halls and entrances are monitored here.” He pointed at the wall of monitors. “Most are from Central and South America, and only go home once a quarter, which is the frequency of travel we provide at no cost.”
“Still, they could be attacked coming or going to their barracks—” Regina began, but Chauncy stopped her.
“We asked them all this week, having the same concerns you’re expressing. Every woman denies she was attacked.”
Sam walked near the window and looked down. “That’s one hell of a coincidence.”
Regina was not ready to let go of her irritation so easily. “These women are in their third trimester – and you just got around to asking them this week?” She felt light headed with all of the excitement, so she leaned against the glass, enjoying the coolness from its smooth surface.
“That’s another thing,” Chauncy said, “They weren’t showing until this past weekend.”