by Linsey, Tam
Levi searched his brain for meaning. “FDA?”
Dr. Kaneka bent and said something to her. Again, her pale green eyes glazed and refocused. She spoke to the doctor, who directed her to Levi. “I’m to ask you what you’ve come for.”
“My son has cystic fibrosis. The salt trader told me about you. That you can cure him.”
“Salt trader?” Her eyebrows rose as if in disbelief, and she scrutinized Levi head to toe. His entire, nearly naked body flushed under her scrutiny. God wants me to be humble.
“Please, Rosalee. The salt trader, Antonis. He carries salt from the Great Salt Lakes. Last spring your people healed him of leprosy.”
“You have leprosy?”
Taking a calming breath, Levi explained again, “No. My son has cystic fibrosis. Antonis said he spoke to you about a cure.”
“Who?”
“The salt trader your people cured.” He glanced at Dr. Kaneka for help, but the man obviously didn’t understand a word being said. The woman’s attack on Tula made a little more sense, now. He’d better keep things simple. “Can you tell Dr. Kaneka I need a cure for cystic fibrosis?”
She frowned. “Why don’t you tell him? He’s right here.”
Humble, Levi. Humble. “He doesn’t understand me.”
“Doctor, this man wants medical treatment for his son. Can you look at the boy?” She still spoke in German.
Levi interjected, “Josef’s not here. He’s too sick to travel. And Dr. Kaneka doesn’t speak German.”
Dr. Kaneka said something to her and she giggled. She turned to Levi. “He doesn’t speak German.”
His confidence in the capabilities of the Fosselites was quickly deteriorating. They were supposed to be a people who could cure anything, yet this woman obviously suffered from some form of dementia, and people with Down’s Syndrome surrounded them. “No, that’s why I need you.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve heard that line a hundred times. You’re very handsome, but I’m not dating right now.” She rose from her seat. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go lie down.”
Levi looked helplessly at Dr. Kaneka, then scanned the room for anyone else. Several people watched him with interest, but no one was the least bit disturbed by Rosalee’s behavior. She and her companion exited through another door at the other end of the room.
Dr. Kaneka stood shaking his head. He shrugged his shoulders and said a few words Levi couldn’t understand.
“Where is Tula?”
“She is okay.” The doctor nodded once. That much Levi understood.
The man gestured into the room, leading the way to a stainless steel cabinet covered with steaming food. The smells Levi had been ignoring caused his stomach to rumble audibly. Mashed potatoes, beets, salad greens, and some kind of little bird roasted golden and crispy. Dr. Kaneka handed him a plate.
“I want to see Tula.” But Levi’s eyes wouldn’t leave the food. How long had it been since he’d had a real meal?
“Eat.” The word was familiar from his time in the Blattvolk prison. It brought up images of the cage and the plain metal canister. This spread was no plain metal canister. “Tula … medicine,” Dr. Kaneka said.
At least, that was what it sounded like. She had said the Fosselites could help her. And Josef. Perhaps he should relax and trust them. What if they were protecting Tula from the crazy Rosalee? He licked his lips and reached for the serving tongs.
Tula fought against the big man to no avail. Her captor continued down the hall and branched left into a darker corridor. “Put me down!” she ordered, but he didn’t act like he heard her. Tula’s eyes required a few minutes to adjust. The hall wasn’t completely dark. Every few dozen feet, a meager spot of light shone from what appeared to be emergency ceiling fixtures. She stopped thrashing, waiting for a better opportunity to fight back.
The man halted and she craned her head to see around him. Tugging at the lanyard around his neck, he bent to stick a keycard in a lock. With a click, the door pivoted open. He set her on her feet inside the room. Beyond sat an exam table dangling restraining straps. Monitors and instruments on carts surrounded the table and lay on gleaming steel counters. A few portable gurneys waited along one wall, and another door led through the back wall. Three radiation suits hung from pegs near the opposite door. One cart held what looked like a telomerase drip system, much like the ones used back home for conversions. A computer and gamma pad rested on a cabinet in one corner. The man pointed to the exam table.
She didn’t move. “No way.” What did he have planned for her? She looked around for a weapon. A scalpel lay on a steel countertop. If she made a move for it, would he stop her? She backed further into the room until she reached the cabinet. Behind her, her fingers found the scalpel. He didn’t move, just looked at his feet as he shuffled. She asked, “Why did that woman attack me?”
The man looked up at her with sagging brown eyes and then dropped his chin to avoid her gaze. His long, horsey face was hard to read. Hard to look at, and yet she couldn’t drag her eyes away. “Do you understand me?”
To her surprise, the man nodded. What had Dr. Kaneka called him? Michael?
“Michael, what happened back there?”
Michael’s shoulders raised and lowered in a shrug. He glanced at her and away again, then pointed at his mouth.
She thought of Jo Boy, and how shy he was around new people. “You don’t talk?”
He shook his head.
“Can you take me back to Levi?”
Again he shook his head. His mouth turned down into a deep frown. He pointed into the room.
“I’m worried that woman hurt my friend. Please?”
He didn’t look at her. His left hand crept to his temple and with the heel of his palm he pounded his own head as if in frustration.
“Does your head hurt?”
His brows drew together as if he might cry. He shook his head and balled his fist, dropping it to his side. Leaning out the door, he stared down the hall, as if searching for someone, then looked back at his feet.
“Maybe there is some medicine in here to help your head.” She scanned the cabinets and cupboards.
His eyes scrunched.
How could she communicate with a mute? Her eye caught the gamma pad. She smiled. The interface was slightly different than she was used to, but she activated the screen and found the manual illustration mode. “Do you like to draw?”
His shoulders rose and fell.
She put the stylus to the screen and drew two stick figures holding hands. Her artistic skills left much to be desired, and she wished Levi was here. “See? This is me and my friend, Levi.”
Michael nodded, but didn’t reach for the pad.
“Can you draw a picture?” She held the gamma pad at arm’s length to him.
His big hand rose slowly, taking the pad and the stylus. He held the unit cradled against him. After a moment, he put the stylus against the screen and drew a big stick figure next to her smaller ones.
“Wow! Is that you?” She gushed enthusiasm, hoping to win him over.
The long lines of his face creased in a shy smile and he met her eyes for the first time.
“What else can you draw?”
He erased the screen and drew again. He’s intelligent enough to know how to use the device. Maybe he could write? He turned the screen to her and she smiled. A green face with circular eyes surrounded in lashes could only be her.
“Me. Tula.” She looked at him for confirmation.
He smiled softly and flushed, his attention sliding to his feet once more.
“Can you write?”
His frame stiffened and his sagging eyes grew round. The gamma pad slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor. Taking a step back, he shook his head rapidly as his whole body seemed to curl in on itself. He wrung his big hands against each other.
Tula assessed his reaction. Why would he worry or lie about being able to write? She picked up the pad. Carefully clearing the screen so he could see w
hat she did, she placed the pad back exactly as she had found it. In a low voice, she said, “Are you not supposed to write?”
His eyebrows drew together like he might cry. With a tiny shake of his head he turned to face the hall.
“It’s okay. I won’t tell.”
Overhead, a com system came to life. Dr. Kaneka’s voice echoed through the room. “Michael, where are you? Report to Medlab immediately with our guest.”
Michael flinched, then his shoulders fell as he looked at Tula. Apparently, this wasn’t the Medlab. “Can I walk this time?” she asked.
With a shrug, he nodded.
Medlab looked much like the room she and Michael had just been in, except no radiation suits and only one gurney. A small woman with dark skin and close-cropped hair surveyed the screen on a diagnostic unit next to the exam chair. The sight of her white lab coat put Tula at ease until the woman turned and considered Tula with blood filled eyes like Dr. Kaneka’s.
“You must be Tula. I’m Dr. Rice.” She extended a hand.
Trying to not let her repulsion show, Tula forced her arm forward in a jerk to shake. “What’s going on? And what happened to Levi?”
“I’m not sure what you mean? Michael, you can go back to your regular duties.”
The big man shuffled his feet and gave Tula a parting glance. She smiled encouragingly at him. “Thank you for saving me.” She assumed that’s what he’d been doing, rescuing her from the crazy woman.
Dr. Rice patted the recliner under the diagnostic unit. “Take a seat and we’ll give you a quick once over.”
Too tense to sit, Tula moved to the unit but didn’t lower herself to the seat. “That woman back there. Why did she attack me? Is Levi all right?”
“Rosalee is sometimes afflicted with delusions. I apologize on her behalf. Your companion will be along shortly. Dr. Kaneka said you’ve been in the desert for some time?” The woman looked Tula over, much the same way Dr. Kaneka had, and Tula tried not to squirm.
“Our skimmer crashed. We’ve been walking for days.” Settling into the seat, Tula put her arm in the pulse-rest, but couldn’t relax. Should she tell this woman the entire story? Would they help without contacting the Protectorate?
“I’m surprised to see a Haldanian traveling with one who is unconverted, as you call them.” Selecting options from the exam screen, Dr. Rice activated the arm of the scanner and stepped back.
Tula imagined her skin tingling in response to the imaging radiation, although she knew her cells would not react to this low dose. “Yes, well, it’s a long story. And it’s Levi’s, too. I’d like to wait for him.” She struggled with a plausible way to ask for help without condemning them both.
Dr. Kaneka arrived, but Levi was nowhere in sight. Remaining in the doorway, he spoke in low tones to Dr. Rice. Stuck in the chair, Tula could not move. She strained her ears to catch his words, but the scanner arm made too much noise.
Were they going to call the Protectorate? Her heart rate had to be excessive, likely skewing the results of the scan. When the sensor cleared the edge of the chair, she pulled her arm from the pulse-rest and rose, surprised at how tired her legs were. The hum of the auto-sanitization mode reminded her of her lab and how often her patients begged for an end to the pain during conversion. She promised if she ever resumed her job as a Conversion Psychiatrist, she’d be a better listener.
As she approached the doctors, she caught the tail end of the conversation. “… with Vitus.”
Her entire body seized. There was only one thing left to do if they’d already told Vitus. She held her head high and steeled her voice. “Dr. Kaneka, I’d like to ask for asylum.”
Dr. Kaneka’s bloodshot gaze speared her. He had a new scab across his left cheek. “Asylum? Now, that is an interesting turn of events. Why is it you seek asylum?”
“The Protectorate issued an order to exterminate me, which may or may not have been suspended. And Levi does not belong to them. I won’t go back. Not after … everything.” She was too exhausted to explain. How much had Vitus already told them? She wanted nothing more than to collapse into a chair and drink a protein canister.
“So you are what the Haldanians call a reversion?” His attention travelled to the pink scar on her arm.
She involuntarily stepped back. Was she a reversion? She never considered herself such, but according to Protectorate protocol, she was. “I’m not trying to return to the way I was before my conversion. I disagreed with decisions the Board made regarding the treatment of prisoners. Levi in particular. I am still in support of conversion.”
“So, you ran away with him?” Dr. Kaneka raised his black brows high over the rim of his glasses. She blinked, trying to maintain eye contact in spite of his horrid visage.
“I only intended to save him from euthanization. As if the term makes murder any better.” Her voice trembled as she thought of all the other patients she’d neglected to stand up for. They were cannibals. Levi was different. “Levi’s not a cannibal. He’s not a threat. The Haldanian mandate of conversion should not apply to him. But because he’s a carrier of the F508 mutation, they decided he had to — to —” she stuttered, enlightenment washing over her. “His son has cystic fibrosis! That’s why he’s here!”
Dr. Rice chimed in. “If his son is the one needing treatment, then his son should be the one here. We cannot be expected to travel the globe to cure everyone. The cost for our services is quite steep as it is.”
“But if his son is too sick to travel, surely you could fly over there and retrieve him?”
“We do not ‘fly over’ and retrieve people.” One side of the doctor’s lip curled upward in a sneer as she looked down her nose at Tula.
Tula wondered what Levi intended to trade for these people’s help. What else had been in his bag when they’d captured him? The only thing she could remember was the notebook, now turned to ash. “Is he with the translator?”
The doctors exchanged a glance Tula couldn’t read and then Levi appeared behind them, escorted by a man in a crimson tunic. His face lit up when he saw Tula and he pushed his way between the doctors to grasp both her arms. “Tula, are you okay?” He looked her up and down as if assessing the damage, for once not avoiding the nakedness of her breasts.
“I’m good.” She leaned toward him and put her arms around his waist in a hug in spite of the crisscross of cattail twine and yuvee leaves over his back “Have him take a seat,” the black-skinned doctor pointed to the diagnostic chair.
Tula wrapped her fingers around his and led him to the chair. “Levi, good medicine. Sit.”
He settled back against the headrest and Dr. Rice placed his arm in the cuff. The screen immediately flashed warning lights.
“His blood pressure is abnormally high. I’ll need to sedate him.”
Nodding Tula, smiled encouragingly at Levi. Dr. Rice coded the chair for sedation and Tula watched Levi’s eyes blink once, twice, and remain closed.
Dr. Kaneka cleared his throat and Tula jumped. “We will offer you both lodging for the night. Your friend has already eaten. You require methionine and lysine, I believe? Would you like us to do a nitrogen balance panel to determine any other deficiencies?”
The thought of a protein canister sounded like manna right now. “I would appreciate that.”
“Dr. Rice will see to you, then.” Dr. Kaneka left, and Tula turned back to an unconscious Levi.
“Let’s get these putrid leaves off and see what we’re dealing with, shall we?” Dr. Rice pulled on protective gloves and picked up scissors before taking a seat on a round swivel stool next to the diagnostic chair. “These cannibal remedies are so hit and miss.”
“He’s not a cannibal.” A flash of déja vu seized Tula as she spoke the familiar words.
“Where are his people?”
“We were in the process of discovering that when the Board ordered his — execution.” She made a conscious effort to change the word. No longer would she think of the murders in terms of eutha
nizing.
The doctor twisted her chair so she could look Tula directly in the eye. “You were a doctor?”
Tula straightened and lifted her chin a little. “I still am a doctor. A Conversion Psychiatrist.”
“I understand. Almost all converts are children. Why were you so intent on this particular adult?” Dr. Rice tilted her head.
Shifting her attention, Tula looked Levi up and down. Slack in sleep, his face appeared more youthful. But not a child. The golden stubble of his beard glimmered along his jaw and outlined the fullness of his lips. “He was with a woman in labor when we picked them up. He was helping her. We thought they were a family, and I was going to study cannibal family dynamics. But it turned out he didn’t even know her.” The memories were like another life. So much had happened, she’d forgotten the mystery of the Levi she’d first met.
The doctor raised a condescending brow, and out of instinct, Tula tacked on a scientific justification. “The altruistic behavior was unusual. And he arrived with a primitive notebook full of drawings of what appeared to be a stable community. I was assigned to study him and find out if there were more Outsiders like him.”
The doctor turned back to her work. “I see. And the Haldanians believed his people might have something to offer?”
“A group of peaceful Outsiders, people who could still live off the land, would be a valuable asset.”
“That they would.” The doctor pulled the cattail wrap from Levi’s wounded arm.
Tula leaned closer. How could they see in the watery illumination from the ceiling? “Don’t you need a light? Fiber optics would be easy to run in here. You could channel full spectrum sunlight.”
“Unfortunately, we have severe skin sensitivity to solar radiation. This is why your friend must bring his son here for our help. We cannot risk exposing ourselves to ultraviolet or other potentially damaging activity. One of the side effects of the longevity enzymes, I’m afraid.”
“Are there a lot of side effects?” Tula thought of the red eyes.
“There are always costs when man alters nature — his own or the world around him. Rosalee is the perfect example of the price for our longevity. Our bodies can be maintained, but our brains deteriorate. Telomerase is ineffective on brain cells.” Rice used a toe to open a bio-waste disposal unit and tossed the cattail fibers inside.
