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Is she willing to pay the price?
Remi's chest painfully constricted as she struggled to
breathe. Rushed to the hospital, she received a mysterious treatment due to a
medical error, which miraculously stopped the asthma attack and restored her
breathing. While she felt healthier than ever before, along with this shocking
recovery came strange abilities, and this miraculous treatment may have a price
that she’s not willing to pay.
“This book contains no AI‑generated writing. All text was created by the
author.”
The
flashing lights of the ambulance illuminated the night as it came to a stop at
the entrance of the bustling hospital. The doors flew open, and they wheeled in
Remi on a stretcher.
A
kind-looking nurse with blonde hair approached them with a warm smile. “Hello, dear, my name is Anna,” she introduced herself before leading them to Bed B.
With
gentle hands and a sense of urgency, they carefully transferred Remi onto the
bed as Anna immediately began assessing her condition. She listened intently to
her lungs, checking for any signs of distress.
As
Anna worked, the paramedic gave his report, and she quickly started an IV line
in Remi's hand. Meanwhile, a nurse's aide unhooked Remi’s oxygen tube from the
tank, connected the tube to the central connection, and attached the cardiac
monitor electrodes to her chest.
The
heavy curtain that separated the beds was suddenly pulled aside with a loud
swoosh. In its place stood a tall man with thick, salt-and-pepper hair. He
swept his gaze across the small cubicle before fixing his attention on Remi.
Introducing himself as Dr. Schwarz, he took note of the discarded nebulizer
pipe lying on her bed before directing his piercing blue eyes to her face and
hands. “Let me listen to your lungs,” he said in a no-nonsense tone, holding
out his stethoscope.
Remi
nodded weakly and struggled to sit up, wincing at the sharp pain in her chest.
The doctor placed the cold metal against her skin and listened intently to her
lung sounds, his brow furrowing in concern. After a moment, he asked, “How long
have you been dealing with asthma?”
“Since...as
far back as I can remember,” Remi gasped out between ragged breaths, beads of
sweat forming on her forehead. “I take preventive medications and usually use
my nebulizer during sudden attacks, but I didn’t have any solution and the
inhaler didn’t help.”
The
doctor's expression turned sympathetic as he nodded understandingly. “We'll get
you taken care of,” he assured her before turning to the nurse.
“It’s
my fault!” Emily informed the doctor with tears in her eyes. “Remi is staying
with me while her parents are in South America with Doctors Without Borders,
and I didn’t know she’s allergic to cats.”
“It’s
okay,” Dr. Schwarz spoke in a soothing voice. “We’ll make her better, but I’m
afraid, you need to get rid of your cat.”
“It’s
not mine, just cat-sitting for a friend, but I’m going to call my other friends
right now. I’m sure one of them will take the cat,” Emily said and pulled out
her cell phone. “I’ll be in the waiting room,” she flashed a nervous smile at
the young girl and hurried out of the room.
The
doctor turned to the nurse. “Anna, let’s give her 125 Solumedrol, hook her up
for continuous nebulizer, and get a portable chest X-ray as well.”
The
nurse nodded and left the room. The doctor smiled, pulled the curtain that
separated Remi’s room from bed C, and greeted the patient. “Hi Konrad, are you
ready?”
“Yes,”
sounded a young boy’s voice.
The
doctor stopped for a second, thinking, and then turned back to Remi. “Do you
speak German by any chance?” he asked.
Caught
off guard by the unexpected question, Remi hesitated before responding. Despite
having learned the language from her nanny since she was a toddler until high
school, she decided against admitting it upon seeing the doctor's peculiar
expression.
“No,
but I speak French,” she replied.
“Never
mind, I just thought... because of your last name, Hansen,” he mumbled,
stepping out of the room and pulling the curtain closed behind him.
That
was strange. Why did he ask me if I speak German? Perhaps he doesn’t want me to
know what they’re talking about in the next cubicle. Remi
wondered, listening to the conversation coming from behind the curtain.
“Are
you sure you want it done this way?” Dr. Schwarz asked, speaking in German, and
continued. “Don’t worry, the girl in that bed doesn’t understand the language.”
Remi
heard a boy's and an older-sounding man’s voices answering, “Yes, we definitely
want the treatment.” And the older voice continued. “My son is sixteen, and
with cystic fibrosis and a rare blood type, finding a cure or donor is close to
impossible. He might have a year left. But with your treatment, he could
live a full, healthy life.”
She
heard the doctor’s sigh, as he said, “I want to make sure you understand what
will happen after the treatment.”
Konrad
assured the doctor, “We thought it over very carefully what you said, and I
fully understand the benefits. And...” he hesitated. “And I accept the
obligation that comes with your treatment as well.”
“We
took the necessary precautions as you instructed, and his handler will arrive
tomorrow to discuss more details with us. Everything is ready,” The older man
said.
“Okay,
I’ll be back in a minute,” the doctor replied.
Remi
wondered what that treatment was. Poor Konrad. He’s my age, and it sounds
like he doesn’t have long to live. That’s terrible. Remi thought,
feeling so much empathy for the boy. But why didn’t the doctor
say medication or something specific? He repeated the German word behandlung,
which means treatment. And because we’re in the hospital, it must be medical
treatment.
***
The
nurse felt sorry for Remi. Poor kid, only sixteen. She knows what it
means to gasp for air. And the boy in bed C... why must young kids
suffer like that?
she thought bitterly, entering the med room. She pulled the drawer open,
grabbed a syringe, and then took out a small box from the medication cabinet
that was labeled Solumedrol 125 mg. She poked the needle through the rubber
cap, drew the liquid from the small bottle, and then injected it into the other
bottle with white powder in it. She mixed it well and drew the clear liquid
back into the syringe.
***
Meanwhile,
Dr. Schwarz entered bed C with a prepared syringe in his hand. "You never
told me why a simple IV injection couldn't be administered at home," the
boy’s father said, his voice laced with worry.
Dr.
Schwarz sighed, his face a mask of solemnity. "As I told you," He
began, "his heart will stop for a few seconds after I give him the
treatment. Therefore, I will turn off the alarm to prevent any unnecessary
commotion from the code team rushing into the room. Ideally, his heart should
restart on its own, but there is always the possibility that it will not, and
we will have to restart it. This is why I need the code team close by, and this
is why I need to do this in the hospital."
A
tense silence hung in the air as father and son processed this information. The
steady beeping of the monitor seemed to grow louder, filling the small hospital
room with an eerie sense of fear and anticipation as the doctor reached up,
turned the heart monitor off, and picked up the syringe.
“Doctor
Schwartz to bed A STAT!” The urgent voice through the intercom stopped his
movement. He put the syringe back on the bedside table, wrenched the curtain
between the cubicles, and nearly knocked the nurse off her feet by pushing the
table out of the way. “Sorry,” he yelled, and to get to Bed A faster, he ran
across Reni’s cubicle, yanking the curtain that separated her bed from Bed A.
Anna's
hand trembled as she clutched the syringe, her heart racing. With a sharp
inhale, she dropped the syringe onto the table, not caring about closing the
curtain between the two beds. She didn't waste any time as she sprinted after
the doctor.
“Hi,”
the skinny, sick-looking young boy with an Oxygen tube coiled over his face
smiled at Remi. “What a commotion, huh? I’m Konrad by the way.” He greeted Remi
in English.
“Hi,
Konrad, I’m Remi. Yes, typical ER buzz,” she smiled back.
“You’re
not from around here,” he said. I haven’t seen you before.”
“No,
I live in the Bronx. I’m just staying with my aunt for a few weeks.”
“Nice
to meet you, Remi,” Konrad said. Maybe we’ll see each other again. It’s such a
small town, I’m sure we’ll bump into each other.”
“Yeah,
it’s small, but I love it here. The mountains are so beautiful.”
“See
you around,” Konrad said when he spotted the nurse walking toward Remi’s bed.
“Are
you ready?” Anna asked Remi as she reached for the bedside table and picked up
the syringe. She closed the curtain between the beds.
Remi
was familiar with the effects of steroids. When Anna injected the medication
into her IV line, she was expecting a headrush and a feeling of warmth all over
her body. But this time she felt something different. As soon as the medication
entered her bloodstream, she felt a pleasant tingling in her body as it spread.
She was curious and followed the spread of the drug from her hand to her arm
then to her chest, head, belly, and then her legs. She felt warm, but not as
much as other times.
Before
she could ask why it felt different than other times, they heard another urgent
intercom call and Anna ran out of the cubicle. Remi felt drawn and tired. The
tingling passed quickly, and she started to feel better. Taking a careful deep
breath, she happily noticed that the tightness of her chest had completely
eased up, although it was unusual for the medication to take effect so fast,
she was happy to feel the almost instant relief.
“Is
everything all right with that patient?” Remi heard Konrad’s voice from the
next bed, speaking German.
“He’ll
be okay, don’t worry,” the doctor replied. “Let’s get your treatment going. Are
you ready?”
“I’m
as ready as I’d ever be,” Konrad said, his voice sounding cheerful but with an
undertone of worry.
Remi
heard the light rustling of bedsheets and the doctor’s voice. “All in. Now, we
wait. It takes a few minutes before your heart stops. Don’t worry, it’s not
going to feel too bad.”
Emily
entered the cubicle and plopped down on the chair. “How do you feel?” she asked
Remi.
“Surprisingly
well,” Remi mused, taking off the nebulizer mask, smiling. “I don’t even need
this anymore; my breathing is so good that I could run a marathon.”
“Thank
God!” Emily sighed. “I was so worried and so sorry. It was my fault.”
“Please
don’t worry, Aunty Em! You didn’t know. Cat dander is not on my allergy list
because we didn’t know either.”
“Well,
there is some good news. Cathy, from my volunteer group, is picking up Midnight
today. She will care for the cat until Marley is in the hospital, and we’ll
stay in the guest house until I arrange a thorough cleaning of the main house.
The cleaning company is great, they will get rid of every piece of dust and cat
dander in the house.”
Thank
you!” Remi smiled at her aunt when suddenly, she felt a painful thud in her
chest as if her heart flipped and bumped against her ribs. Everything turned
dark in front of her eyes, and her mind sank into nothingness.
The
loud alarm of the monitor made Emily jump, and she frantically scanned the
screen which showed a flat line instead of the rhythmic heartbeat. She pulled
the curtain open and screamed. “Help! Somebody help us, her heart stopped!”
We are brothers, before the masses we stand together. No matter what issue may exist between two members of this brotherhood, all brothers will be united against all others. To ensure our members are joined in unity, we declare the following as the bylaws which we will live by.
- The declarative statement of the Bylaws of The Brotherhood
-
Steve Baker walks into the lobby of the Galactic Geographic
building. He strolls towards the lifts, stopping for a moment to take in the
paintings on the walls. Over the last century the institution has accumulated
an impressive collection of artworks depicting the scenery and creatures of
hundreds of worlds from renowned artists throughout human space. His favorite
has always been the one of the dragons from Sigma 5 Omega. It has been hanging
in the lobby for as long as he can remember, at least twenty-three years. That
is when he was transferred from London to Sydney.
He walks up to
the painting. It is a meter wide and two meters high. The tortured landscape,
and the orange and red sky, are brilliantly depicted.
The subject of the portrait spreads its massive wings as it roars towards the
heavens. Having been on an expedition to study these creatures early in his
career he can feel the passion the painter felt as she captured the essence of
these reptilians and their primitive world.
In all the years
that he has admired this painting he has never looked at the painter’s
information so Steve glances at the artists signature, Jennifer Anne Sebring.
He gazes at the artist photo on the information plate, Wow, she could be Kathy
Masters older sister, they are almost twins. The
information plate says she lived on Safe Port. Hmmm, I wonder if she survived
the Chinese attack.
Steve goes to the
lift and rides it to his offices on the thirteenth floor. He walks past his new
receptionist giving her a perfunctory good morning and continues to his office.
What is her name? he asks himself as he enters the room.
Steve crosses the
floor to his desk, as he does, he realizes there is someone else already in the
room. He turns to face the big leather chair in the corner near the window. A
man sits in the chair sipping tea. "Good morning Mr. Baker," the man
says.
Steve carefully
looks him over. He is in his sixties perhaps a
little older. Very athletic. The man wears an expensive dark gray three-piece
suit and black Italian leather shoes. He has a black leather briefcase sitting
on the floor beside the chair.
"What the
hell are you doing in my office?" Steve demands.
The man simply
holds up an ID wallet. Steve at once recognizes the Planetary Law Enforcement
Agency badge. He gulps nervously, What the hell is he doing here?
"I love that
painting too. In case you didn’t know, she traveled to Sigma 5 Omega,
spent three weeks photographing the dragons, then studied those photos for six
months before she painted that dragon."
"Really?" Steve replies, somewhat
intrigued.
"Did you
know that Jennifer Anne Sebring is in fact the first Mrs. James Ulysses
Black?" the man asks.
"You mean
she was married to Commodore Black of the Rapier?" Steve queries.
"Yes, that's
exactly what I mean. And the answer to your musing is no, her and their
four-year-old daughter were killed the night the
Chinese attacked. That's the main reason Commodore Black became a
privateer."
"How'd you
know I was wondering about that? Do you have implants?" Steve asks.
"No, and the
only way that would work is if you had implants as well. That is something we
learned during our examinations of Kathy and Cindy Black. It is just simple deduction Mr. Baker; the fact you spent so
much time looking at the information plate shows you were wondering about
something. Because it tells you the artist was from Safe Port leads one to speculate you were thinking about whether or not she survived the attack. Like I said,
simple deduction," the man in the suit replies.
"What do you
mean by the first Mrs. Black?" Steve asks.
"Ah, I take
it you haven't heard yet. Our dear Miss Masters married Commodore Black just
before he died. I am sure it will all be explained
when you open the package that came for you in the morning post," the man
in the suit says, as he takes another sip of tea.
"What
package?" asks Steve.
"The one
your receptionist will bring to you in about," the man looks at his
chronometer, "five minutes."
"How do you
know all this?" Steve asks.
"It's my job
to know these things. More specifically, I have a
number of contacts, on and off planet, whose jobs are to keep me informed
on things of importance," says the stranger.
"You mean
spies, you run a massive spy ring," declares Steve.
"That's one
way to put it," the man in the suit states. Then he takes another sip of
his tea.
Steve changes the
subject, "Then it's confirmed, Commodore Black is dead."
"Yes, it's
confirmed. A shame really, I truly wanted to meet
him," the man says with a touch of sadness.
"Really and
beside putting him in prison why would you want to meet him?" demands
Steve.
"Mr. Baker,
most men that enter his profession are truly pirates, like Bartholomew and his
crew. Others, the privateers, border on being pirates just barely holding onto
their humanity. But Commodore Black was a man that kept his humanity despite
all that happened. Yes, he came close to losing it but somehow, he did not. I
think Kathy may have been the reason, her, and Cindy. He made sure the captains
and crews that served under him also kept their humanity, a remarkable
accomplishment. And he was a man of honor, even knowing his story you do not
seem to see it, but I do, and that Mr. Baker makes him a truly exceptional man.
I meet all kinds in my profession, but very seldom do I meet a truly
exceptional man," replies the man in the suit. There is a short pause,
then he says, "She's pregnant again."
"Who's
pregnant?" Steve asks.
"Kathy Erin
Masters-Black of course," he replies.
Steve looks
surprised then asks, "Is that important?"
"It could
be," replies his unexpected guest with a grim expression on his face.
There is a knock
on the door, then it opens, and Steve's new receptionist walks in with the
morning post. Again, he asks himself, What the heck is her name? She lays out
the letters on Steve's desk and sets a small package next to them then walks
out the door, closing it as she leaves. Steve walks to his desk and sits down
in his chair. The man in the suit picks up his briefcase and moves to a chair
in front of Steve's desk. He sits and sips more of his tea. "I suggest you
open the package," the man in the suit tells Steve.
Steve unwraps the
package, it holds a small box. Inside the box is a holographic projector. He
sets it on the desk and turns it on. It projects an image that grows to about a
meter in height, the image forms into Kathy.
Steve looks
closely at Kathy's holographic image. The gray streak in her hair has turned
white. She wears a sixteenth century blue skirt with a white blouse and blue
vest, that cover a slight baby bump. A black tricornered leather hat with a
white ostrich plume on its right side sits on her head at a slight cant. There
is a rapier on her left hip and a laser pistol slung low, gunfighter style, on
her right. The leg strap for the holster goes through two slits in the skirt
and around her right thigh. She has a twentieth century slug thrower on her
belt by the buckle over the baby bump. It is holstered
for a left-handed draw. Though her eyes still sparkle
he can tell they are filled with a deep sadness.
"Hello Steve," the image says.
"Hi
Kathy," he replies.
"I take it
someone from planetary law enforcement is in your office," Kathy's
hologram states.
"Yes,"
Steve answers.
"That's
okay, he can stay," Kathy says.
"Thank you,
Mrs. Black," the man in the suit says.
"You're
welcome," the holographic image of Kathy replies. "The recorder only
has limited response capability, so I won't be able to answer all of your
questions, especially yours Mr. Aimes."
"Ah, so you
know who I am," the suit says.
"It is wise
to learn all you can about those that pursue you,” Kathy's image responds.
"So true,”
Mr. Aimes states.
"I'm sure by
now you've heard about the death of Commodore Black," for a moment she
chokes up, "and the extinction of the nanchiks." A tear runs down her
cheek. Steve finds himself wondering, Is the tear for the commodore, is it for
the nanchiks, or is it for both? "Then of course there's the rebellion of
the houses of Chan, Zhu and Yi against the Chinese Prefecture. So much has
happened since we left Earth Steve," Kathy's hologram declares.
"Yes, it
has," Steve agrees.
"Well Steve,
I've got another exclusive for you. A story that will tie it all together, so
it makes sense. And I'm sure the suit in your
office would like to hear all that I have to say on this," the holographic
image says. Mr. Aimes nods his agreement.
"If you
agree to the same terms as last time place your thumb on the scanner,"
Kathy's image instructs.
Steve looks at
the suit for a minute, he turns on his transcription bot, then places his thumb
on the scanner of the holographic projector. It reads his thumbprint, and the
hologram continues.
"We were in
Reavers Cove for a couple of months buying and upgrading a ship, then
recruiting a crew. For the record Mr. Aimes, the ship has advanced nanchik
tech, one might say two generations more advanced than what we traded for our
freedom. While we were doing that Lien was taken to
Xerxes Major by her grandfather to present herself to the emperor. As soon as
we were ready, we left aboard our new ship, the Razor, and made best speed for
Safe Port..."
R. A. “Doc” Correa
https://www.amazon.com/stores/R.A.-Doc-Correa/author/B073R82QC5
A retired US Army military master parachutist, retired surgical technologist, and retired computer scientist. He’s an award-winning poet and author. “Doc” has had poems published in multiple books and had stories published in Bookish Magazine and Your Secret Library. His first novel, Rapier, won a Book Excellence award and was given a Reader’s Favorite five-star review.
