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[FURY] Shy Breakfast (Bon 1.0, Dog 1.2)
Bon
Your infirmary, somewhere beneath SafeCo
Last night was a storm like you haven’t seen in a very long time. The thunder rumbled the infirmary’s walls, knocking down a picture that broke in the frame. Who’s in that picture? The lightning flashed over and over, lighting up the rooms like day. It was impossible to sleep for a while. Mox crawled into bed with you at some ungodly hour. He’s been fighting a bit of a cold and you heard his soft snoring as you fell back asleep.
Shy didn’t come in until late, sneaking in quietly and obviously hoping you wouldn’t notice. You only did ‘cause Mox was keeping you up. Why didn’t you say anything to her?
There’s only the one patient in the infirmary this morning. What’s wrong with Ducks?
The morning is quiet, but you know it won’t be for long. Admiral has set up a big motor duel, and the drivers will come knocking at your door soon enough.
Cold or not, Mox took off at the crack of dawn to go study with August at the old gift shop near the promenade. Do you think Mox really is interested in August’s stories, or does he go every time he can for some other reason? Won’t be easy working at half staff, he better get back before things get bad.
You wake to the smell of breakfast cooking, Shy standing at the burner browning toast for two. She looks over her shoulder at you with a smile that hides a hint of guilt.
What do you do?
Your infirmary, somewhere beneath SafeCo
Last night was a storm like you haven’t seen in a very long time. The thunder rumbled the infirmary’s walls, knocking down a picture that broke in the frame. Who’s in that picture? The lightning flashed over and over, lighting up the rooms like day. It was impossible to sleep for a while. Mox crawled into bed with you at some ungodly hour. He’s been fighting a bit of a cold and you heard his soft snoring as you fell back asleep.
Shy didn’t come in until late, sneaking in quietly and obviously hoping you wouldn’t notice. You only did ‘cause Mox was keeping you up. Why didn’t you say anything to her?
There’s only the one patient in the infirmary this morning. What’s wrong with Ducks?
The morning is quiet, but you know it won’t be for long. Admiral has set up a big motor duel, and the drivers will come knocking at your door soon enough.
Cold or not, Mox took off at the crack of dawn to go study with August at the old gift shop near the promenade. Do you think Mox really is interested in August’s stories, or does he go every time he can for some other reason? Won’t be easy working at half staff, he better get back before things get bad.
You wake to the smell of breakfast cooking, Shy standing at the burner browning toast for two. She looks over her shoulder at you with a smile that hides a hint of guilt.
What do you do?
Comments
The smell of the toast condenses out of an impossible but horrifying dream of burning flesh. I blink my eyes open and I look over at Shy... see the smile and smile back, then put my hand over my eyes a moment. Flood. It's going to be a long day. I don't sleep much or well as it is and Mox woke me, climbing into bed. It's one of those things that tells me he misses the Pack.. he was always on the inside of that pile. Shy hasn't climbed in with me at all since we set this place up. She wants the pack back too, she misses Dog and the others. I hoped, after six months, she would have reconciled herself.
I sit up and look over at the picture lying on the floor. It's a reminder that Shy came in as late as she did. It's a likeness of Nee, done by an artist. It captures her look well. Some people might mistake it for me. Easy to do since Nee and I were twins. But no... it has a... something to it. Something that was her. On bad days I think it's her salf assured smugness. It's one of Shy's prized possessions, hanging above her bed. She couldn't see that it had fallen in the dark. I didn't say anything to Shy when she came in, because I couldn't face having another late night fight with her.
I sigh and then I pull on a dark shirt over my tank and drag on my camo pants, socks and boots, stand and go through the curtain to check on Ducks. Ducks was shot, and fell in some deep red. By the time they dragged him in it had already gotten inside him. The bullet came out but now we're trying to keep him from getting infected and keep the water from eating his guts out at the same time. I've got a few mixtures which have shown some promise, but it's a day to day thing. I was up three times last night checking him, giving him more red-killer. It's the kind of thing Nee could seal up and send the man out the same day.
You're right. Mox better be back. Autoduels are messy business. I think he likes August's stories but his big thing is Joey, who is his best friend, even if he is two years older. Again... he misses the pack. It's funny, August doesn't really like kids. Yet another reason she wouldn't really... Splash it, I told myself I wouldn't think about that. Not any more.
Ducks isn't good. I think we're going to lose him, and there isn't much more I can do about it. I check the candle...not enough time gone for me to give him red-killer again. If it concentrates too much, it will kill him instead of helping.
I walk back into our living area. "Good morning." I say "When did you get in?"
"Not too late." Shy lies, putting the toast on a plate, walking the plate over to sit it on your table, at your place. Peace offering. "Mox slept with you again? Storms?" She slides into a seat. No plate in front of her.
What drink did she pour for you?
Some kind of fruit juice. I sniff at it. Something raised indoors for sure. She must've brought it in with her last night. Expensive. Val maybe?
"You know how he is." I motion to my plate "You need to eat something, Shy, it's going to be busy. So... what did you get up to?"
Embattled teenager here, you know. I'm watching her carefully for sure, without seeming to.
+1 xp for Sharp on following roll.
Shy answers smoothly, "I already ate. You slept way the rot in." She takes a drink of the fruit juice. She swallows it down, then answers, "I went to Val's. It was flash. Belka was there. She threw a bleeding table on some fool. It was hilarious." Her tone is snide. "Got stuck there, with the rain. For a bit. Took the tunnels halfways. Then ran it."
What's dangerous about the tunnels under Safeco?
"Language." I say automatically. I curse internally a lot more than I do externally, but cursing was forbidden among the Medicai, seen as a form of disease, and some things just stick. Not that I don't ever, I'm just always aware of it and reflexively guilty when I do it.
As for the tunnels, what isn't down there? Flash floods from the surface if you're not careful. Deep red puddles. Blood-cursed animals and people that are hardly better. Cave-ins, fumes. When you're a doc, you see the ugly end of everything... a lot. Other people have the luxury of pushing some of the dangers out of their heads to keep themselves sane, or believing themselves immortal.
"The tunnels and then the rain? In a storm? Sakes, Shy, what were you thinking? You should have stayed at Valentine's until the rain let up. You know she would've let you. And what was it this 'fool' did to deserve a table thrown upon him?"
Shy's mouth twitches with guilt when you call her on the curses. She's testing boundaries, but not ready to break them without pause. Always testing. She looks down at the small table, covers the embarrassment with another drink of the juice. "He was messing with me, Bon. Said I looked good enough to eat. And Belka showed him what's what." She swallows, looks up again. "I'm... I'm an adult now, you know. Remember 'Garden?" Shy asks, mentioning the girl who looks to be her age. Nobody knows for sure. "She's preggers." Shy says it like it's a proof of concept.
What do you do?
I raise an eyebrow at her.
"Your floods started four years ago, were you an adult then?" I ask mildly.
Shy sees the trap. She's not stupid. "No. I was like... like Mox. Baby-headed. Now. I'm a woman. Grown up." She sets her mouth, like there's more to say, but she doesn't let the words out.
Of course she's not stupid. And the thing is, she's not far off. Nee was her age when she had Shy. But it's not as simple as Shy thinks it is.
I look down at the toast she made. More than apology then, a petition. I look up at her again.
"And? Say what you want to say, Shy."
"I wanna join Dog's pack." Shy says, meeting your eyes. "I wanna be an Arrow." Her knuckles are white on the glass, she's holding her breath, waiting for your reaction.
In the other room, you hear a coughing wheeze from Ducks. He's waking.
I knew this was coming. She idolizes Dog. The rest too, but Dog for sure.
I let out a breath and set down my glass and look at her. I let the silence drag out, filled only by the noises from Ducks.
How can I talk her out of this?
If you guilt her, she'll stay for a while longer. She'll still be touchy and spiteful, moreso, but she knows she owes you for raising her. It will keep her for maybe a year more if nothing changes.
You could beg her to stay, let her make some demands, get her own jingle. She'll move out into her own place when she can afford it. This will be a job. Better than most.
I mull my options. I want to tell her no. I want to scream it, shake her hard. Make her remember the members of Dog's gang that we watched die after we did our best to save them. I think about that moment crouched on the ground and covered in Nee's blood when I promised her I'd keep her kids safe. At the same time, I'm looking at Shy, and she's right, she's a woman herself... physically. Nee and I were on our own younger but we were damn lucky, honestly, to have survived our own stupidity. I'm not sure we would have if not for Nee's gift. Time... I need time.
I lean back in my chair. Shake my head slightly.
"You are so much like your mother." Your stupid, careless mother, who I loved more than anything in the world and who died to save some jerk we hardly knew. "I want to deny you." I blow out a breath. "I promised your mother, with my very heart..." I look at her. "But 'tis a lost battle, because you are right, you are grown up. You are old enough to make decisions for yourself, such as how late into the night you return home, though the people who love you worry for you."
I lean forward.
"But there are degrees of grown up. 'Tis not a puddle to be jumped. You could run off now, join up with Dog," It feels like I just tasted something bad. "and I probably couldn't stop you. But where am I going to find another medic as good as you are? How long will it take me to train someone even half competent? Mox is getting better, but I cannot... I cannot run this place without you right now. I need your help, Shy."
Shy is a damn good medic. She's not Medicai raised. She doesn't have the machine of the flesh and blood, the repair of the sick and injured etched on her body, mind and soul from the book of pain the way I do. She doesn't have her mother's gift... so far. But she's not an ordinary rain either.
Shy listens to you, Bon. The guilt creeps in, her mouth becomes a thin line and you feels her trying to come up with some objection. Then you turn it, tell her how important she is, show her some power she has over you.
For a moment, she holds a breath, thinking. Her shoulders slump slightly, and she says in a flat tone, "No. You can't." It sounds like capitulation. "I... I miss them, Bon." Her tone shifts, questions, "Why did we leave them?"
I hold up may hand in a 'wait' gesture.
"I was not finished. The important part of what I said is that I cannot do without your help right now, Shy. Though I do not wish to lose it at all, that was not meant to burden you with obligation. I recognize that the call of the rain will not be denied forever, much as I might wish it. I only ask for a smooth transition."
I reach across and take her hand between both of mine. "Here then is what I propose: you shall find someone for your place and help me to train them. When you feel they are adequate, then you may do as you wish. It will be your decision alone. In the meantime, since you are a woman grown, I will pay you a wage, and so you know the value of it, keeping our records of debt will be added to your duties, though I will o'erlook them from time to time."
I let her chew on that a moment.
"Have you any amendments or additional proposals to this bargain?"
Shy narrows her eyes when you hold up a hand, but she remains silent. Her face softens when you propose a replacement. Her eyes brighten and you can see her mentally running a checklist of all the people she knows. She nods at the mention of debt, swallows when you offer a wage, nodding softly, trying not to seem too eager.
Finally, you ask if she has changes to what you've laid out. Her mouth opens for a moment as she takes it all in. "Uhm... I... I want to go to the motor duel today. If there's a wreck, I'll come back. And, I want to have time off, away, without feeling like I'm making you all damp about it. But like... most of it. It's pretty great, Aunt Bon."
Dog,
You come up to the door of what was once a gift shop at Safeco, beforetimes, now it's the small infirmary of Bon, where she and her family (do you know if Mox and Shy are her kids or whatever?) heal folks.
It's an infirmary, a place of business, so you walk right in. You smell some baked toast. Have you eaten today? What was it?
Shy is sitting at the small table with Bon, they're eating. Shy turns around and beams when she sees you.
Bon,
Dog comes in the door. She's alone. You've probably lost Shy's attention for a bit.
What do you do?
When I woke up this morning I had a few big guzzles of water and an orange potato with some smoked meat. I'm definitely hungry again though, and toast reminds me of the frybread I used to get back east. It's hard to find a time when I'll turn down food.
I smile back at Shy and put one of my big mitts on the top of her head, ruffle her hair right and left, ease softening my face. I know Mox and Shy are Bon's nephew and niece, and they lost their mom. I know how people remember Nee. They're good kids and I like 'em.
"Can I have some bread and talk?"
I stand, expression hardly flickering, though I'm both annoyed by the interruption and anxious about what Dog brings to my door this time. As usual I am not demonstrative. Emotion is not contagian I know, despite my 'education', but old habits die hard. The pack has long since gotten used to my usually reserved affect.
"Of course. You are always welcome. Please find your ease. If you will excuse me a moment, I must check on a patient. Shy, please see to our friend's refreshment."
It's a few moments while I look in on Ducks. There is probably little I can do, and unless things have gotten complicated I'm back quickly.
Shy slips up from her seat to come over to you, Dog, offering a hug, "Hey! You want some food, Dog?" she notices you leaving the room, Bon, then drops her voice, "What's up? Are you hurt?"
Bon always talks so good. Her smarts make me nervous sometimes. I'm gonna have to talk stuff that she knows really well, too.
I scoop Shy up in a hug that gets her feet off the ground. "Yeah! I'd like that."
I set her back down as Bon walks out and stoop forward towards Shy so she knows I'm listening close. "I'm fine, I just saw stuff this morning I wanna know if Bon's seen it, too."
"Stuff, Dog?" Shy asks curiously as she walks over to slice some bread from the loaf, turning on the burner on the small stove. "Whatcha seen?"
Bon,
Ducks is slipping away. The rot's taken him. He won't be waking up. It's only a matter an hour or so now.
What do you do?
I reach out and put my hand on the poor man's forehead and look into his face, ridden with pain even though he is no longer conscious of it. I stand there a moment, memorizing his features so that I can meditate on my failure later.
I blink and swallow hard, my hand going to my cheek to wipe away the errant tear. I close my eyes and even my breathing until I am calm again.
I look at the candle again. Three big ticks and I will return to witness his ending. Then samples and, a learning opportunity for Mox and Shy as we examine the machine's workings in painstaking detail.
I wipe my eyes once more, take a final deep breath and go to attend my guest.
“My thanks for your generous indulgence, Dog. How may I serve?”
I watch the bread attentively. What's here for spread, anything?
Bon talks and I have to check my gut to see if I did anything wrong. I didn't do anything good, either. I straighten up. "Some soak-head stole Tin-Girl's bike. We chased him out to the new growth and knocked him down, Tin-Girl blooded him, but something wasn't right. He was desperate to see the forest. Didn't beg for his life, he begged for the forest. His eyes weren't right. And he was alone. It don't square with me. Has anybody been like that lately? There some way to get high makes you tree-crazy? Some new kinda sick?"
My eyebrows perk up, remembering what I got earlier. I pull out Soakfella's punk pelt.
Dog,
Shy pulls a butterknife from a drawer that's held together with some duct tape, grabs some strawberry jam that's very thick, spreads some for you. She seems eager to get you some good food.
I look at the remnant of a man in Dog's hand and feel my lips tighten. I look at Shy, then back at Dog.
"You permitted Tin-Girl to murder him." I say, my voice gaining a faint edge. "A piteous misfortune on both." I sit back, glance away, breathe. Continue more evenly. "But mayhap I have seen it before, two weeks past. I thought it another form of blood madness, though one unique in its displays. A second case is worrisome, a new contagion may be stealing the march."
I look at Shy again, realizing that Dog hugged her. And who knows how many Tin-Girl has touched.
I want to accept the jammy toast from Shy but I gotta keep my eyes on Bon. Point straight. I swallow. "I did, and it is. You know what trouble an Arrow with no ride has in living." I don't point out how August is keeping Bon's ride warm.
"Flood." That's all there is to say to Bon's answer. Now I take the toast, real careful, and bite into it and pace the room. My boots feel heavy. The jam is so good. I pace more, bite more off.
I watch her pace the room.
"The time for quarantine is past. We must be vigilant and hope if it is a contagion that it does not spread by touch. You must come to me immediately if you feel strange. The same for Tin Girl. If it is communicable, you should be the first to show signs."
I shove the last of the toast into my face and nod. ::I'll do that. Thank you. Where..:: The Thank You was made in a bigger motion than usual for emphasis. I swallow and wipe jam off my lip, then suck it off my thumb. "Where was your last guy who had it from?"
I smile faintly at her sucking the jam off her thumb. There is something endearing about Dog, even if I see nothing but doom in her.
I shake my head.
“Only the drops know for sure. She wore the habit of a sounder, which is why I suspected blood madness, since it is more common among those who fish. But she spake as a Piker.”
Hrrrrm. "Weird." I don't want to forget to tell Shy I like her toast. "That toast was good! I'll look into this bloody stuff."
I step towards the door, look back at Bon and Shy and their coupla rooms. They're always here nowadays and I miss them, but I get to visit them all the time. In Bon's place, with Bon's own Alpha rating.
I wave with one hand and hang on the doorframe with the other. "See you Bon, see you Shy." Then I'm outtie, walking down the hall. Some kind of huge gun goes off in the arena proper loud enough to make a shake and I laugh.
The room deflates somehow when Dog leaves and I listen to her laugh echo in the hall. Spaces expand to accommodate her and the world always seems a little less colorful when she goes. I find myself idly playing with the pendant of carved bone through my shirt. August gave it to me. I let go of it to finish my juice. I glance at my niece.
"We'll talk again. You would be wise to catch up to her if you're going to the show. Be careful."
I have to watch a man die.
Shy comes over to give you a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, "Thank you, Auntie Bon!" She grabs a couple bottles of clean water and a few bits for trade, then dashes out.
Dog, as you're still laughing after the shot, Shy comes barreling out of the infirmary, "Wait! Wait!" She runs up to you, then falls in beside you, "I'm heading to the show. You're working security, right? I hear it's a big one!"
I assume you don't mind the company, right, Dog? As you take a pair of slowly crumbling concrete stairs, Shy glances back down the corridor to the infirmary, then catches back up, "Hey Dog, how come Vignette gets in the pile? She isn't an Arrow."
Bon,
What's it like for you, watching someone die?
I bump into Shy, friendly-like, as she falls in step with me. "Yeah, it's a big show, we're patrolling around the outside and the gates for bad rotters." Could be a good payday.
Of course Shy is welcome. I can look after her a while, it's cool. I keep an eye on her feet as much as I do mine while we're going up these grotty stairs. "Vignette?"
I make a bit of a grumble while I think about it. It feels like it should be easy to explain but it isn't. "It's kinda like..a test? Or something I just felt like? Liiike...who needs to be an Arrow? Women who got nobody. Right?"
Plus I think Cujo feels it real for Vignette, but that is Cujo's thing to say to anybody.
I used to be surrounded by people, in a place kind of like this, but I knew I didn't have nobody. People would patch me up, hand me food, give me jingle and kit but nobody would touch me or talk to me. I was alone then, and it's better now that I'm not.
Shy's steps are careful and quick. She's not as agile as Chance, but she's much more surefooted than Belka, no doubt. She bumps your shoulder back when you get to the top of the stairs and start heading out to your ride. "Is she passing the test? And Dog, women who got nobody? Really? You got nobody?" She pushes some hair out of her face and peers at you curiously as you pass by some guys selling ratonnastik.
I smile. It sounds silly when Shy puts it like that. "No, I got the whole pack now. Get it? But like, without the pack, no." I end on a lower note.
I scratch my scalp a little, don't wanna mess up my 'hawk. "She's..I dunno? She's doing okay. She could do better. I'll know if things got to change."
I try to put Vignette on a bike in my thoughts, which is kinda funny. A small bike. Or she could ride second on someone. I know August is against it. Cujo might be for it. When it comes to a head I'll have to bring it to the whole pack, maybe. But Vignette may fade on us, or us on her. I dunno. "This needs to be real slow. I think. Sometimes it's real fast but every ride is different."
You make it outside to see Chance still helping Tin-Girl with her h-bike. Sounder, Rainey and the others are around, you hear them revving bikes and see them darting about.
"You'll know," Shy repeats. "Every ride is different, yeah." She nods, walks with you over to your bike after glancing over at Tin-Girl, and Chance. "Can I, ah, ride with you, Dog? Is that cool?" She fidgets a little, unsure, looking around, not meeting your eyes, not wanting to seem like she's begging or anything.
I give a wave to Chance and Tin-Girl, return the fists in the air I get from Sounder and Rainey and other Arrows. I throw a leg over my bike and settle in the seat. Now that I'm more 'at work' I harden up, try to get alert.
Shy asks to ride along and I look her over. She got any armor on? Any weapon? Come down to it, have I ever seen her fight? "I'm working a job, so if you wanna ride and something goes down, you have to keep cool and do what I say." Hard to say if today will be easy. It's a big show in there.
The Arrow Pack's big sweat times will be when they're over and people filter out of Safeco, heads still in the fights but maybe no extra jingle to party on with. A ride-around when people are still sorting in and the show is on should be quiet. A thought, especially if Shy's got nothing to defend herself with. "Did Bon say you could ride?"
"Dog," Chance calls when she sees you wave. "Harbor's inside, brought a bunch of his people with him. Hope's one of them."
Which member of Arrow pack is related to Hope, Dog? How did Hope end up one of Harbormaster's?
"I can stay cool. Cool like ice." Shy assures you. "And Bon isn't my mom. I work for her. She doesn't tell me to ride or not. I. I can do this."
It's hard.
A world dies with every person. A world of knowledge, memory, experience, and emotion. That in itself is a tragedy. But when you've accepted a life into your care, it's worse. The death of one in your care is a failure of your understanding. A name added to your ledger. The meditation adds meaning to the name forever. I recall every death, of course, in detail. I can touch each name on my skin and recall the precise circumstances of the case, and of my failure.
I was always envious that Nee's ledger was so short. A few names only. With her gift, deaths were rare. She could wear pretty things, exposed things. I cannot. To expose the names of the dead... and your own record of incompetence, is both shameful to you and disrespectful to them.
I go to Ducks. quiet myself and watch. When the moment is immanent, I lay my hand on his forhead and my ear against his chest and listen to the life depart.
Bon,
It doesn't take long. Two ticks. He slips away, growing still. Then, the last breath. A slow exhale, all of his pain, his cares, his loves and wishes, all flow out from him. You feel it, the release, his spirit, off and away. His forehead grows cold, colder still. His face slackens, everything... settles. Ducks is no more.
Who will write his name on you, Bon? What do you do with his body?
I give Shy a long, old-fashioned look. After sweating her out a little, I pat the seat behind me. We can have a chat about wearing something to stop knives and rot and packing when there's work later. I check my gun and machete real quick, make sure they're not in my way and I'm not in their way.
I don't like the way Chance says People but it's hard to parse out why. Hope is Ace's sister. They were from this hold where nobody hears, kinda small, kinda rich. It got broken up by some random scum, Ace and Cujo and What-a-Mess (now gone) got picked up by Nana but Hope threw in with a different set of outsiders. Harbormaster's her new boss.
"That so? How's Ace?"
The Pack have patronized a tattooist named Zazzle for the past few years. He seems competant enough. Names are not complicated and he's careful to get size and placement just right. He doesn't understand what the names are and I have not offered to explain. He might think them kills or sexual conquests. Given my usual demeanor, he's more likely to think me a murderer.
As for the machine, I will take samples from it in order to continue to develop the red-killer. And then, if we have time before it rots, Mox and Shy will help me disassemble it and allow it to instruct us in both it's structure and the nature of its ailments. For now i will remove the garments and clean it, then cover it with rough weave until later.
Dog,
Chance's mouth quirks unhappily, "Too skinny," she answers about Ace. "He got her foot fixed, though. She's walking straight." Tin-Girl gives a nod and hops on her ride, starting it up. Chance skips back towards the stadium to keep a lookout with her whistle.
Shy's dressed in a simple top and shorts, nothing fancy, but definitely not good enough for a fight. She has no weapons either. When you mount your h-bike, she slips in behind you, spending a moment of indecision between whether she should lean back and hold onto the sides, or wrap her arms around you.
What do you do?
Bon,
You've stripped Ducks and began preparation of the corpse, the "machine", when Mox comes in, followed by Ghost. Ghost remains near the entrance to your infirmary, hesitant to enter even though Mox motions for her to come in. He walks forward, peering at the body without hesitation.
"May Ghost come inside, Auntie?" Mox asks as he fetches a saw to help begin with dismemberment. This is his life, right? He's got no gag reflex to this anymore, if he ever did.
Ghost sees the saw, turns a bit pale, still waiting, maybe afraid to run away, maybe fascinated.
What do you do?
I turn to look over my shoulder, smile at her. "Of course she may, provided she does not find our work distressing. Welcome, Miss Ghost, we are honoured by your presence.” I motion to the machine. "There is nothing to fear here, the essence... the person... has departed, only this crude shell remains. But there is no shame in going, if you wish."
"Subassemblies first, Mox." I say to my nephew, tapping the breastbone. I have already drained the fluids. ”You shall open the cage. After anointing your hands, if you please." He does tend to get a little excited with that saw. Limbs are the easier and less delicate work.
"You'd better hold onto me." I tell Shy. My bike's not leisurely. When she's holding and her feet are up proper I idle over to Chance. I look at Tin-Girl's eyes. Just checking in.
"I need to check in with the Admiral soon. I might see Hope. Thanks for letting me know." Then I motor off, picking my way through to the clearer road that gives me a view this way and that..turn off onto the next to do my patrol.
Dog,
Let's move you to a new scene. Please go here.
Bon,
Mox gently sets down the saw, rushes over to the basin and begins washing his hands excitedly. He'll join you in the work soon. He sings the little song you taught him to make sure he spends enough time cleansing. How does that song go? Who taught it to you?
Ghost blinks a few times, taking this in. She hovers near the door for a moment longer, then ducks her head, "Thank ya kindly, ma'am. I've seen a few dead bodies in my time, but ne'er anyone cuttin' on 'em once they stopped movin;," She comes inside, moving closer, within a few feet, peering at the drained body. "Like they say... wood is only a little less delicate than flesh."
Bon, it looks like you're trying to research the red-killer, right? With your infirmary, you can get lots of good information. What are you after? A straight up cure? Single dose? Cure the world? Understand it more?
I nod. “Truth indeed, Miss Ghost. And all of it naught but an empty dwelling.” I look at her again, still with the relaxed but minimal smile as I prep the tools. “Shall we fear the empty shells, forsaken by the mad fattened red-crawlers of the beach, when they search for new? The part of beauty and danger is fled for drier places, the rest is matter only, on its own carrying, like the great ruins, many things to know that may be of benefit. And it excites in our hearts a whispered reminder that our own time in the wet is not long.”
Mox sings the Chant of Bones in the background in his high clear voice. “Ox sip a tal, Pair ee et al, Fron tal. Tem por al. Sphen oid. Eth moi-oid….” It was taught to me by Elder Pym, when I was half Mox’s age, and I used to sing it to both Shy and Mox to get them to sleep. The melody is soothing and I didn’t know any… what did August call them? Lullabies.
As for my research, ultimately I seek a cure for deep-red infections. Not an instant one, I expect, but one that does more good than harm. Understanding too, of course, but lives come first.
Ghost listens to you, Bon. But yes, she watches Mox, watches him sing and wash and excitedly take up the saw. She is unsettled, but your words give her some comfort. Still... this is quite a thing to watch, isn't it? Are you Manipulating Ghost to calm her fears and learn?
Could she be the one to assist you when Shy leaves? Shy, who is off with Dog even now, riding h-bikes and cavorting with the Arrow pack?
"Auntie," Mox announces as he comes over to the machine with his saw. "My saw's teeth are sharp, as am I. I wish to open the shell and study what lies beneath." He places the saw at the breastbone, checking his elbow's angle, watching the form and posture, all excellent. All like you taught him.
With a grit of teeth and a shove forward, the saw bites deep into flesh and bone and the rending sounds of the machine torn apart by the tool begin. It is soon now, soon and it will open before you like a flower, the innards of what was once Ducks.
I should be concerned if Ghost's composure were unmoved entire. Though the machine is nothing sacred now, it did once house an essence and we were made of stone should we forget it utterly. To err on the side of respect is wise. Mox is, if anything, too cavalier, for which part of his situation or character to lay the credit of it I am unsure. However he is yet young and changeable as the rains.
It is hard to tell whether Ghost would be a good assistant. Her reactions so far speak well, and Gate's folk are hard working. With intelligence she seems gifted well enough. A year or more would it take to get her to even half Shy's skill in the most generous estimate, and that only if she is well suited in temperment. But mayhap the proposition is worth testing.
"Caution and a craftsman's aspect, Mox, observation is our purpose." I turn to look at Ghost. "Fear we only what is obscure and mysterious. Come child, Ducks makes us a gift of knowledge. Will you accept this his last contribution to the living?"
I hold out my hand to her.
(manipulating.)
"Yeh..." Ghost says haltingly, "Yes, ma'am." She steps closer, watching and wincing with each draw of the sawblade on bone. "Do ya... talk to it?"
"Not in words, Ghost. Like a riddle, or a puzzlebox." Mox sets the saw aside, reverently, then reaches to pry the breastbone free, revealing the rotted innards.
The smell is putrid, forcing Ghost to gag, but she holds her composure, eyes watering, hand over her mouth and nose, but not fainting. Mox, for his part, pulls a small rod from a tray and begins moving things around, watching and making sounds of interest, his brain abuzz.
Bon, if you want to figure out a cure for deep-red infections, you'll...
First, need help finding victims. Newly infected would be ideal. Dog and her pack could help with this, since she travels.
Second, need to keep them quarantined. need to observe the final stages.
Third. it will take dozens of tries, seeing it in many victims.
What do you do?
The odor is terrible. I am long past gagging at things like this. But I look at Ghost and wrinkle my nose.
“Alas, the gift is not without its drawbacks.” I whisper to her and make a face.
I assess the damage, pointing various things out to them both. I’m looking particularly at which organs have degenerated the most and which seem more intact. I am memorizing as I speak, placing things in very particular places in my interior reflection of the Medicai compound so I know where to find them later. It was a technique that all of us learned, but that I was particularly good at. I have Mox and even Ghost help me gather samples into old jars with lids and mostly rotted labels proclaiming delicacies of the golden age.
All told it takes probably a few hours.
It is clear that I need to see the infection progress quite a bit more, and I’ll need somewhere to keep those I find. I’ll have to speak with the Admiral or Valentine about that. As well as have the Arrows keep their eyes out for more of the infected.
Bon,
The work is long. Dismantling the machine is rewarding, but taxing. Ghost has to excuse herself near the end, either too tired or too overwhelmed by the smell. She had persevered most of the process, however. Mox puts a kerchief over his mouth and nose and continues methodically breaking apart what was once Ducks into component parts. He collects samples in jars for you, labeling them with grease pens and ancient pencils.
In the end, he is gathering the parts of the machine to be removed, the greater portion of it, and starts the process of wrapping it in tarp to drag away for disposal.
What do you do with the dismantled machines?
That's when you hear commotion coming down the hall. Missed and four other workers from the farms are carrying someone, a limp form. "Bon!" Missed calls ahead, panic in his voice, "Geo took a bullet in the duel!" They come rushing in, three of them holding Geo up, blood oozing and dripping from the hand that hangs limp at his side.
Ghost moves to the wall, trying to meekly stay out of the way. Mox sets the machine parts down, quickly covering them. Who knows you dissect bodies down here? Is that a problem?
What do you do?
Nearby is one of the circular holes in the crumbling sidewalk just outside Safeco. In some cases a metal lid is on these holes but many of them are missing now. In any case, the red concentrates easily down there. The remnants of the machine will go in there, to be dissolved.
I look toward the door when my name is called. When they appear with the injured I motion to the worktable I just finished wiping off."Onto the table if you please."
Once they have him there, the priority is to control the bleeding. If it's too messy for direct pressure, I'll get some rope and a stick to make a tourniquet. He still breathes? Once the blood is stopped or slowed I evaluate him with a critical eye.
"Were there other injuries in the duel?" I ask Missed.
We have only been here six months. If the patient has no kin who wish otherwise, and disposal is up to us when they die, then it is an opportunity to learn. I know from experience that most are not comfortable with the notion, they still see the machine as being somehow essentially their loved one, so I do my best not to confront them with it. There are some who have strong beliefs about what should be done with the body after death, and my activities would not please them, but I have not experienced much difficulty thus far.
Burial is generally not an option, with the ground so consistently wet, but there are those that burn, and there are places, I have heard, that are used as crypts. I have heard too, of some who feed the dead to the plants. However a great deal of people simply die and are left in the streets to be rotted by the rain.
Bon,
"Yo Fish, did Neck get tagged, too?" Missed asks one of his companions as they lay Geo on the table.
"Yeah, but it was just a graze. She don't got any jingle for medico." Fish replies, looking around at all the clean, shiny. "I think Algee's driver's drowned, dunno. Maybe." He adds the second part without much feeling for the loser, the outsider.
As for your new patient, Geo's going to need a tourniquet, for sure. May lose the arm. If you want to save the guy, he's at 10:00. Touch and go. Lost blood, losing more.
What do you do?
I do not look up from my task applying the tourniquet, cutting off the bloodflow for the moment.
“One of you go and fetch her back, please. And the other driver, if they still live. As for the rest, one may remain with this man if they wish. Others must depart so that we may work unobstructed.”
I call to Mox and give him a list of things to fetch while I reach for a probe to get a better look, hoping the bullet is still in one piece, or better yet, gone clean through.
"He'll grow less if he's dead." Mox says softly as he fetches bottles and equipment from your list.
Ghost, for her part, is still here, watching from a corner, a mixture of horrified and fascinated. Finally, she says quiet, "Miss Bon. I oughta let ya work. I been idle for too long myself. Needs must." She turns to go.
I touch Mox's arm, annoyed at his cheek. One must endure these things with some grace. Missed may be expressing that Geo is only as valuable as his labor, or as people often do, he may be deflecting the weight of his emotions. However at Mox's age, the footrace between the mouth and the brain is not only lost to the former, the defeat is often staggering.
"I will do my best to preserve it, sir, but it will depend greatly on the severity of the damage." I say without missing a beat.
I glance quickly up at Ghost and offer her a smile when she announces her departure.
"Learning is not idleness, Miss Ghost, but you best know your own path. Should you wish to learn more, you are always welcome. You handled yourself admirably."
With that I get down to business. 2-stock spending to stabilize Geo.
Bon,
Ghost ducks her head in thanks, leaves. Mox blinks at your touch, not sure why, but knowing he'll later learn it. You are able to coag the bleeding and while Geo will be out of it for a while. You save the arm, but you need to narcostab him. In his pain and drug-fueled delirium, he says in slurred speech, "Miss'd.... Miss'd. there's no way there's enough clean water, I wonder... I wonner who been given dirty water..." Then he's passed out.
What do you do?
I look up at Missed. Slightly alarmed.
"What is he speaking of?"
Bon,
Missed's jaw is set for a moment. "Doesn't matter. He gonna make it?"
I move from behind the table to confront him more directly, eyes reproachful.
"If such things did not matter, this would not be my profession. Someone has been deceived, and had suffering inflicted upon them. Tell me what you know of this matter at once."
I shall read.
Bon,
Missed's shoulders slump as he answers glumly, "He only told you in his fever, fearing death. He could be killed for that secret, whoever's passing bad water off to the people either has Admiral's blessing., or would be in Admiral's sights."
My eyes soften. His concern for the man’s life disposes me more kindly.
“I will not betray him to his death,” I say. “But I must know who is drinking that water.”
Bon,
Missed continues looking at the floor. "The fixits, in the garage. They're drinking pink. Aint red, but it don't look safe."
That seems strange. If Admiral does know, it seems odd that he would endanger that particular resource.
I reach out and touch Missed's arm.
"Geo will make it. He needs rest now. He should do very little but rest for at least a fortnight, or he risks damaging the arm permanently. Certainly no exposure to red water. You can take him home in the morning. I lower the arm again, folding my hands. "And now the matter of payment?"
Bon,
Missed clears his throat, "We got stocks o' food I can share." He looks up, hopeful a jingle is enough. "What do ya need?"
I nod, “My thanks. Do you wish to stay with him?”
Bon,
"I'd best get back to work. Ah, should I bring ya some food now?" Missed answers, eager to leave this place. A few minutes later, the other growers carry in the driver of Algee, who's a mess. They drop them on a table as you direct them. They don't stick around.
What do you do?
“Bring it when you come for him in the morning, if you please.” I say, turning my attention to the other driver.
Once Missed is gone I direct Mox to finish disposing of the husk of the machine while I evaluate what needs doing on the new patient.
Bon,
Mox hustles to take care of the husk while you focus on Tally, the driver of Algee. She's suffered burns on her right arm and legs as well as some trauma due to a small explosion in her car. You see this kind of thing often enough, price they pay for driving in the show. But she’s going to take up a bed for a while.
How many beds do you have in the infirmary?
There are seven beds, though there used to be more. Most of them are at waist level. If there are many people, then there is room on the floor to lay them out, where the other beds used to be. There are two side rooms. One is the lab and more secure storage, the other is our living area.
Tally is stable? If so, the best I can do is bandage her and try to make her comfortable.
Bon,
Please go here.