Rise

by S A Shaffer

  “What about her?” David asked. “Is she ok?”

  “She’s suffering from a fever, and despite my ministrations, it only seems to worsen.”

  David didn’t wait to hear more. He ran the rest of the way back to his apartment and burst into his mother’s room. Placing a hand on her forehead, he sensed what Ella had described. Her skin felt as though she’d been sitting to close to a fire. It also had a yellow tinge to it. David stooped and looked into his mother’s eyes and noticed the same tinge there; though, even in sickness, his mother made no response. The faint breath that came from her nose felt hot and moist. David didn’t waste any more time, as he lifted his mother’s emaciated frame and charged out of the room.

  “Where are you taking her?” Ella asked from the door.

  “The hospital. I don’t think this is an ordinary sickness.”

  “But David, they won’t have room—”

  David didn’t listen. He rushed into the steam lift and ran through the twilight of the dirty streets he knew so well until he arrived at a Third District public hospital a few blocks away. He entered the center for emergencies, and his mouth fell open at what he saw. People packed the square room to capacity, all dressed in dingy old clothes that smelled of urine. Rusty girders arched across the ceiling giving the space an industrial feel.

  David ignored the rabble and pushed his way to the reception desk at the back where a young man in a lab coat sifted through some files. The tag on his jacket only designated him as doctor without any surname.

  “Hello, doctor. It's my mother she’s—”

  “Fill in your name and have a seat. We will be with you as soon as we can.” The doctor never looked up from his files, and he spoke with a dejected voice.

  “But… But she needs to be seen right away.”

  The doctor looked up then. His eyes were ringed with fatigue. “We are required to see patients in the order they arrive. You will have to wait your turn. I’m sorry, but there is nothing I can do to alter that.”

  David opened and closed his mouth several times before leaning his mother against a table, which was the only available space nearby, and stepping up to the sign-in sheet. He filled in her name as well as her date of birth. However, he put his name down as her guardian, and after a moment’s thought, he added his occupation in hopes that it might open some doors.

  David turned to pick up his mother, but when he saw the throng in that stuffy waiting room, he despaired. Turning back to the doctor, he pressed his case again.

  “Sir, are all these people waiting to be seen?”

  “They are.”

  “And how long would you estimate it to take for my mother to be seen?”

  The doctor looked around David at all the people behind him and winced.

  “Perhaps, sometime tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow!” David said with shock.

  “Or the next day, it’s difficult to say.” The doctor added, and then he put his hands up in a placating gesture in response to David’s frustrated face. “We don’t have a choice. Our beds are packed to capacity.”

  “What if I made an appointment and returned?”

  “Appointments are booked two seasons out. The hospital doesn’t have enough rooms or personnel to deal with this kind of volume.”

  “But, wasn’t legislation passed last season that boosted the public hospital funding?”

  “Yes, and with that funding came a drastic increase in patients.” The doctor sighed and rested his hands on the counter. “You see, when the populace realized they could enter the hospital for free and receive beds, meals, and treatment for their self-imposed illnesses, mostly caused by illegal usage of antipsychotics, they came by the droves. As you can see, most of the people here are homeless reprobates.” He whispered the last part in a conspiratorial manner.

  “What about a private doctor?” David said.

  But the man shook his head. “There aren’t any left. The city requisitioned every doctor to meet the public hospitals’ growing demands, and they issued an ordinance to revoke any private practitioner’s license to dissuade any from practicing outside the hospital.”

  “So there’s nothing I can do? My mother might be dead by tomorrow!” David said as his frustration mounted.

  The doctor looked at Mother for a moment where she lay against the table. Then he reached out a hand and placed it on her forehead. He leaned across the counter and used a thumb and forefinger to hold open one of her eyes.

  “Why is she non-responsive? How long has she been like this?” The doctor asked with a quick look at David.

  “She’s been paralyzed for the past 5 cycles. Airship Accident.”

  The doctor pulled his hand back very slowly as he pursed his lips. “It must have been a terrible accident. Did… Did the doctors tell you about potential health problems after the accident?”

  David nodded. “They said she only had a few cycles before her organs would begin to fail. Is that what’s happening?”

  “Your right about her needing immediate attention.” The doctor said, ignoring the question. “But listen to me, you won’t find any help here. The hospital implemented immediate provisions to speed up patient care. When we see patients, our diagnoses are based on their age and probability of recovery. Your mother may have some time left, but on paper, her condition is mortal, and she is in the final stages. If you wait through this interminable line, and by some miracle your mother is still alive at the end of it, the only thing the hospital will do is give her a sedative and send you on your way.”

  David opened his mouth to berate the doctor, but the man pressed on before David could say anything.

  “I desperately want to help you, but if I did, the hospital would throw us both out before I could do anything useful.”

  “So, am I just supposed to watch her die?” David said amidst a feeling of hopelessness.

  The doctor was at a loss for words at that. He looked around for a moment before he held up a finger and disappeared around the corner. After a good while, David feared the doctor might not return, but then he reemerged walking with forced casualness. He placed his hand on the counter palm down and heaved a great sigh.

  “I’m sorry. You’re just going to have to wait your turn, sir. I can have some more chairs brought in if you would like?”

  David wanted to shout at the man, but then the doctor removed his hand from the counter, leaving behind a small brown pouch. He looked David in the eye and gave a barely perceptible nod.

  “Um… no, the chairs won’t be necessary.” David said as he grabbed the pouch and retrieved his mother.

  “You’re sure? It’s no trouble.”

  “Yes, I think we will tough it out at home. Thank you for your help, doctor.”

  The doctor nodded. “Bear in mind, even with medication,” he placed special emphasis on that word, “your mother only has a short time. She needs significant help if she is to survive the week.”

  David swallowed hard and nodded. Turning, he left the pungent reception room and stepped out into now dark streets. He held the small pouch in his fist, which he suspected was filled with pills. They didn’t give him much hope. Although the doctor hadn’t said it, he guessed the organ failure he’d feared for so long was finally ravaging his mother’s body.

  As soon as he entered the night air, the sounds of the city assaulted him, and chilled mist swept over him. He shivered and held his mother even closer, not knowing where he should go next. Home to spend his last few days with her? Or should he seek help elsewhere? Such was the depth of his desperation that he actually considered going to see Blythe.

  But as he stood there contemplating, an air-taxi descended from the murky clouds, landing several strides away. It struck David as strange, as this was not an appropriate landing zone. Presently, the rear hatch opened, and to David’s shock, out stepped Francisco.

  David gawked at the man, but Francisco gave him his usual drab look.

  “Are you going to gape like
that all night?” Francisco asked. “Get in, it’s bloody chilly out here.”

  David recovered from his surprise enough to nod and stumble toward the skiff. He laid his mother down on one of its plush benches. Then he took a seat across from her and held her hand as the airship ascended. David looked around the air-taxi’s interior and at Francisco, who sat beside him.

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  Francisco jerked a thumb behind him. Only then did David see a figure sitting in the shadows on the far side of the ship.

  “We were watching your apartment, remember?” a voice said from the darkness. “They notified me that you took your mother to the hospital, and I came directly. What’s wrong with her?”

  “I think she’s going into organ failure.” David said as he felt his mother’s forehead yet again. “The hospital said they weren’t able to do anything for her other than a few pills.”

  “That would figure after the last medical directive out of Blythe’s office.” Mit said from the shadows.

  David nodded. “So the doctor told me.”

  “Well, don’t you worry.” Mit said. “I’ll have my doctors take a look at her.”

  David continued to hold his mother’s hand for the journey, which was far shorter than he imagined. In no time at all, he felt the taxi bump up to a dock at the base of an old factory and heard some clamps fasten. The rear hatch lowered, and David jumped as a medical team raced into the skiff and lifted his mother onto a gurney. As the team wheeled her away, he stepped out of the skiff into a long hallway with armed guards flanking either side. Without thinking about it, David followed the medical team as they wound through a few corridors. He passed several rooms, some filled with people, some filled with munitions. They took his mother to a surgical room, one of many in a long line. A man in a lab coat, presumably a doctor, did a quick vitals check and then gave some orders to his colleagues. The last thing David saw before they shut the door was his mother’s pale, weary face.

  “Not to worry, David.” A man said from behind him, as he stood staring at the closed door. “She is in the very best of hands.”

  David nodded as Mit gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. But as his mind shifted from thoughts of his mother to thoughts of where he was, he got a chill, especially as he realized who it was squeezing his shoulder. David turned around very slowly and faced Mit in the shadows, except there were no shadows here. He looked up at a man in his forties with a stern face, yet an honest disposition. Some might describe him as handsome, others, brooding. He had a shaved head, something that concealed his receding hairline, and his brown eyes shown with intelligence. David had to look up a long way to meet those eyes, but when he did, he saw no danger in them.

  “Aren’t you concerned at revealing yourself to me?” David asked.

  “You’ve proved yourself trustworthy.” Mit said. “Besides, after seeing me, do you have any idea who I am?”

  Mit smiled and nodded down the hall. “Walk with me.” He led David down one corridor and rounded a corner into an observatory that overlooked an airship hanger with a few dozen military-grade skiffs docked three high in elevated berths. There was a table there with a steaming pot of tea and a pair of mugs. They sat there, and Mit poured each of them a cup of tea. Other than Francisco, who stood a few paces back, no one else was in the room.

  David massaged his forehead with his clenched fists and let out a long breath, the stress of the evening taking its toll. He stopped when he realized he had something in his hand. It was the brown pouch the doctor had given him.

  “What do you have there?” Mit asked and slid a mug of tea across the table.

  “The public doctor gave me some medicine for my mother.” David said. “I forgot to give it to your doctor.”

  Mit motioned for the pouch, and David handed it to him. Mit opened it, poured some of the pills into his hand, and held them up to the light.

  “Mmm,” he said after squinting at a code on the pill. “These are an antiseptic, and not even a very strong one. Our supply is much better. I wouldn’t trouble the doctor with these.”

  “Lousy doctor told me it was the best he could do.” David said with a snort.

  “I wouldn’t be too hard on the good doctor.” Mit said. “He couldn’t help you even if he wanted to. You’re lucky you got this much.”

  “He said as much.” David said with a snort. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t picked me up. Speaking of which, what is this place?”

  “It doesn’t really have an official name.” Mit said. “Most of my men call it the underground. After Blythe came to power, we went dark. Most of us are ex-armada, commandos, or old sneaks who know Alönia is headed to ruin unless something changes.”

  “But all this costs money and a lot of it. Where do you get the funds?”

  “All that is to come. But first, you’ll be happy to know that the transmitter you helped steal… be nice, Francisco,” Mit said after Francisco snorted in his corner. “He did help us.” Mit reiterated. “The transmitter that you helped us steal has been extremely informative. Were you told exactly what it was you were stealing?”

  David shook his head.

  “Well, it’s a long-range communication device, highly experimental. We’ve known for some time that Blythe’s been talking with people some distance away, but we haven’t been able to establish who. While you were having a smoke on top of the orbital, as it were, Francisco cloned the device, and we’ve been listening in on Blythe’s communications. Most are in code, so we still have no idea who Blythe is speaking with, but we did piece together a discussion about a meeting to take place on the twelfth golden day at 11:00 pm.”

  “That’s during the speaker’s retreat in House Thornton.” David said.

  Mit nodded. “We want to eavesdrop on that meeting, in person if we can. If we can get an eyeball on whoever Blythe’s mysterious friends are, we might be able to discern his future plans. The trouble is: security will be quite strict at this event. We probably won’t be able to implant any of our own people into the retreat. That means you and Francisco will have to do the eavesdropping by yourselves.”

  David looked over at Francisco, who sat with his head in his hands. “I’m of course willing, but wouldn’t I just get in Francisco’s way? I just don’t see what I would add to the operation.”

  Francisco looked up and nodded vigorously.

  “Francisco is a sneak, not a politician. You have a knowledge of politics and foreign policy that is unmatched in the Fertile Plaines. It’s possible you’re one of the only people capable of identifying these mysterious friends on sight. We will of course send you with insta-cameras, but there might not be a good opportunity to snap a picture.”

  “I see.” David said. “Well, if Francisco is willing, I certainly am.”

  “Oh, Francisco is willing whether he is willing or not. Aren’t you Francisco?”

  Francisco grunted and looked away.

  “Well now that that is settled, there is one other matter I wanted to discuss with you.” Mit said as he leaned forward in his chair and took a sip of his tea. “Do you remember my promise? I told you that if you worked with us, we would give you some training and an equipment upgrade.

  David nodded.

  “Well, for starters, how would you like a new arm?”

  David looked at Mit with wide eyes. “I… You’d do that?”

  “Well, I always send my men in with the best possible equipment, and no offense, but you’d probably be better off with one arm than that rusty contraption.”

  David looked down, unsure of what to say. It was what he’d always dreamed of but never thought could be a reality.

  “Of course, if you’re attached to it, we can just see about cleaning it up…”

  “No sir, you misunderstand my speechlessness. This arm may be attached to me, but I am not attached to it. I’d be very grateful for a replacement.”

  “Excellent!” Mit said as he drained his t
ea in one gulp and stood. “You can write Blythe a note telling him you’re having surgery to replace your arm, and we will begin right away.”

  “Now?” David said in surprise as he stood with Mit.

  “Why wait?” Mit said. “You’ll need a season to get used to it before you and Francisco snoop about in Thornton.”

  David stammered for a moment, but before he knew it, he was jotting down a simple note to Blythe informing him that he would be out for a week due to his mechanical arm. It was hardly necessary as Blythe would probably not even notice his absence. He also checked on his mother. Her condition stabilized after the doctor administered some very strong antibiotics but seeing her almost made him change his mind until he realized that she was in the best of care. There was nothing he could do to help her. An hour later found him in a surgical room beneath a bright light and beside a long table of intricate, sharp instruments. He shivered as his bear skin touched cold metal. A doctor gave him something to drink, and in a matter of moments, his eyes fluttered, and he drifted off to sleep.

  ◆◆◆

  David awoke in a most unnatural manner. He lay for a long while unable to rouse himself. He heard and saw much of what went on around him, but his body felt sluggish. In time, he awoke fully and sat on the side of his bed. To his surprise, he lay in not but his shorts. He felt strange, and when he tried stretching, pain lanced across his shoulders. He looked down and gaped at a mechanical arm unlike any he had ever seen.

  It looked remarkably similar to his natural hand, with the exception of the polished black surface. He opened and closed the fingers with fascination. This new mechanical arm shone with a sleek black finish, and it felt light, considerably lighter than his old one. He glanced around and saw a mirror on the far side of the room. Sliding off the bed, he stepped onto the cold floor with his bare feet and gasped when he felt the same excruciating pain shoot up his weak leg. It buckled beneath his weight, and he fell on top of a surgical table, sending dozens of intricate instruments skittering across the floor. His fall against the table jarred his shoulders, causing more pain. He breathed between clenched teeth and looked down at his leg. What he saw shocked him: two legs of the same length. He rotated his former gimpy leg and saw a row of incisions stitching down one side of his knee and calf. He looked back at the mirror, and despite the aches and pains that throbbed across his shoulder and leg, he straightened and walked across the small room with stiffness. He grunted with every step, but he would see himself in the mirror!