My dear Tombshard,

Thank you for finally taking Thomko off my hands. Now, when will my new replacements and additions arrive?

We are stretched rather thin here, as you must know. Our ability to get meals past the blockade relies on two factors: first, our brave troops to escort supply runners; second, those like myself who labor over patients in order to provide for your hunger.

Our first few days of intelligence monitoring of Zero-A have been fruitful. This was especially so in the context of the reports Division has provided with regard to the father’s medical condition. His likely terminal condition certainly impacts our strategy, but fortunately it is a way off and we have some time to consider the effects of his illness on the rest of the family, and how it might be turned to our benefit.

The Zero-A household consists of Father, Mother, Elder Son, and the Younger Daughter. The Father does not know yet what we are aware of. His discovery is perhaps as little as several months or as much as several years away. The question is whether to encourage or to discourage the revelation. If he finds out earlier, there is the possibility he will successfully meet the spiritual challenges as well as find a cure or at least an extended postponement of its terminal nature. If he finds out later, he will have less time in which to grow bitter and a greater chance of a crisis that shoves him to rediscover his spirituality, but there is also a greater chance of a family explosion that will wreak the havoc of bitterness and perhaps break the Younger Daughter’s certainty in her loyalty to the Other Side.

The Mother is at the moment an uncertain play. It is possible she, upon learning the news of his illness, will fall into our hands, but it is equally possible she will side the other way. She is somewhat vain and more than a little given to gossip, and something of a social butterfly, flitting here and there. At the same time she has many deep friendships for whom she appears to care deeply in that markedly unselfish way the Others have, which is so hard to analyze and deeply confusing. Monitoring her and experimenting with approaches may be a College project that may yield fruit in this eternally challenging area.

The Father’s current passion for his work, and the Mother’s for her friends, fortunately leaves them less time than either would like with their children. This leaves a useful gap which we can exploit. What will happen when the illness is revealed is a guess only the Intelligence arm would care to take (and probably, as usual, fail at). However, the more wedges we are to drive here, the better off we would be in the long run when the illness is revealed. The ideal condition is one in which the Father and Mother both retreat into bitterness and isolation upon learning the news, leaving the Elder Son—who is well in hand at the moment—to go even more strongly into our camp, and the girl to deal with a crisis of faith on her own.

The son is vain and shallow, and secretly already bitterly jealous over the attentions afforded his younger sister. He has acquired the attentions of several young girls at his school, and one in particular which he regularly encourages. This one–our potential Zero-B–is also a shallow-thinker, and gives in very easy to sensuality. All sorts of feedback loops between the two of them, their friends, and their families are possible, with likely explosively damaging results, each adding to the cup of woe so appreciated in the shadowed realms. He is perhaps our most ideal Index Patient, and I will go deeper into his case in my next report.

The Younger Daughter is, as I have mentioned before, the wildcard, the uncertain variable. She has latched on to faith and loyalty to the Enemy. Her room cannot be penetrated—we would probably lose any force that dared to try. We are having a hard time guessing at her thought patterns, for she is quite circumspect in her words to others. At school she has a few close friends but tends to keep herself away from others (which could be made to work for us), but we cannot approach the church where the rest of her friends gather for regular events. We have tried but the atmosphere becomes far too muggy and foggy as we draw near, and direction is lost. Even if we could follow her in, I’m afraid the light and sound would blind and deafen us, so that we could gain no useful intelligence. So we are at the moment forced to monitor her phone conversations and her emails, to see if her words will betray any chink that we could use.

In summary, gaining access for the seeds of evil which will eventually kill and provide a meal for us will be fairly easy in certain cases. At the same time we wish to take care before investing ourselves in Zero-A, for the Younger certainly has the power of Resurrection. Introducing any seed into her at this time is impossible, and introducing it into the others might very well unleash a Crisis in which this power could be made manifest. Isolating the others from her insidious smell will have to be the first operation if we are to be successful in the long-term. Yet if we are, here are at least three very good meals to be made–not to mention the many that they touch.

Yours affectionately,
Greystone.

My dear Tombshard,

I feel we are now ready to begin the work in earnest, although I should have liked to have gotten rid of the tiresome Thomko by now. When will the detachment arrive? In any event he is under lock and key, along with two of his middies. I’m afraid one fell prey to the same kind of pilfering that they have become reviled for. But I suppose that’s what you get when you trifle with the advance corps of a hungry nation: a certain sense of vengeance coupled with a satisfied belly. The jailed three certainly were cowed by the howls.

In any event, I making some headway even in these initial days. The Slattery clan is our initial outpost: we are keeping them under close watch. They seem an ideal candidate for a Patient Zero, but I am not sure at this time whether it should be him, his wife, or elder child–the son, of course. Certainly not the younger child, of course: she being the fly in the soup for that particular case.

There is another potential Patient Zero: this being the girlfriend of the son. We’ll call this one Zero-B for the moment. Lover, really—and the fact that this is not acknowledged does tend to give the possibility of so many scenarios that almost—almost, mind you!—overrides the danger of the Slattery daughter.

The third potential Zero—Zero-C, I suppose—is more of a long-term project. This is a teacher in the local school, by the name of Finnegan. She is rather lonely and bitter but in an excellent position so that, if infected, she might actually have a fairly long reach. But inward isolationism has weathered all attempts so far to use her as a vector: I suppose this is a time when evil unleashed works against us, rendering inert an otherwise fine weapon.

The fourth potential Zero, Zero-D, is the longest of long-shots. This is actually a missionary recently returned from abroad whose son will likely attend the same school as the Zero-A and Zero-B children. I know that normally missionary types would be seen as virtually impervious to our work. Of course they are always vulnerable to a little short-term sniping that might even remove them from the field of struggle: but they are almost always immune to becoming a long-term vector. However, this is a quite unusual case. I do not know that I should say more; our communications channels are typically quite safe but with such a sensitive subject, I am uncertain to trust them even here.

Of course I know we must keep a record of all our work, so that if anything unfortunate should happen to our leadership, new workers will know where to begin. Not that I expect anything unfortunate to happen, of course: I have guards quite loyal to me. So I shall keep private records of some of our doings, so that they can be accessed if necessary while not committing all our tactics to this possibly breached channel. (I know it has happened before.)

In any event, there are many possibilities here. Do send us the additional manpower. I have Alikan and his resources out gathering information so that we will have a very clear picture of the relational lines, and then we will have some idea of how to proceed.

Yours affectionately,
Greystone.

My dear Tombshard,

Here forthwith is the promised assessment. I have charge presently of four Seniors, nine Middies, and two score of Juniors, the latter of whom are hardly worth counting. I will run down my views of the Seniors and such Middies as are worth mentioning.

The four Seniors are of course Saltslug, Thomko, Alikan and Zho.

First, Thomko has to go: he is clearly as corrupt as any devil, perhaps three times as much, but worse he has organized the pilfering of the food supplies. This of course cannot be borne. His three Middies must go with him. We must have a clean sweep. Send a detachment at once to bring them back to face the Table. From the look of them, I do not think the detachment even need be very strong: they are sly and cunning but weak and easily cowed.

Saltslug is positively brilliant in his work. I cannot recommend this black hearted spirit enough. He has set up what amounts to a small college here, complete with practical field work, and the Juniors he is running through it are presently the most promising of the lot. He only has two Middies at the moment, and needs two more. This is the first of the requests. I am certain with the results of this effort we will attract more to our side.

Alikan shows some promise, and seems best suited to the intelligence work necessary even if he is a little weak on compromising the targets. I will keep him for the moment.

Zho, too, I will keep, though not eagerly. I have known him from work before, and am pleasantly surprised to see him here—if guardedly so (for why did you not tell me he was here?). Nevertheless I know him to be a master at the task of seed-planting, and I am certain any Middies and Juniors under him will come to be excellent field hands in time.

With the loss of Thomko and the three Middies under him, we are left short handed. I need five extras. Please send these without delay. Zho’s Middie, Greensnot (a name that suits him quite well!), is an excellent example of the sort I want: devious and quick to take advantage of opportunities, yet loyal. I expect the same loyalty from these that you should desire of me.

Please inform me as soon as may be when I may expect the new arrivals, as well as the detachment to take the dead weight off our hands.

Also, send as soon as may be a complete dossier on the Slatterys of 21st Street. I have need of that as soon as possible.

Yours affectionately,
Greystone.

My dear Tombshard,

Thank you for the intelligence file, but while I knew a few months or even a few weeks was too much to ask, you might have waited at least a few days before you began sniping about our progress. You and I are old campaigners in this struggle, and you know the early days are always the most difficult: particularly when one (even one such as I) takes over from the shoddy work of a predecessor. It will take a little while for me to arrange matters in anything like an orderly process.

The first priority, of course, is to maintain the status quo—not to lose the Patients that are so close. A first glance at the files kept here tells me many will soon be on their way past the blockade to storage in the cold. So do not whine to me: your meals will not be interrupted and we both know when the pinch is in, it is our Juniors who go without. Perhaps instead you should look to doubling your own guard against marauders, and keep close by your terminal to send me what I need.

It is far too early to consider Patient Zero. An infection must be introduced with care. We need a target which will not immediately repel our efforts—in whom we can at least get a germ of a thorn that can start working its way inward—but who also will have maximum broadcast exposure once the seed sprouts in full bloom. Such a Patient is not always easy to find, even in a Zone as populous as this. It will take some time to comb the records: but that, of course, is one of the things I do best. So let me do my job.

Meanwhile in the next day or so I will send the assessment of the current workforce and my requests for replacements and additions. Yes, you read that right: I have seen enough here to know both will be warranted. Not all of the Middies and even one or two of the Seniors are worth keeping on; in fact, one or two are positively worthless and more to the point fat enough to serve at a meal—they have evidently been sipping a bit before passing food on. They know it, too: they are shedding pounds just sweating over what awaits them.

On the other hand, there is reason for optimism, too. Some of what I have seen in my survey last night suggests this Zone may be ripe for not just one but several Patient Zeros. And if that is indeed the case, I will need reinforcements to manage it properly.

Yours affectionately,
Greystone