Off Center (The Lament)

by Power, P. S.

  She tilted her head a bit and winked.

  "I did beat it. By changing my mind later. It worked pretty well, but what's true right now might not be after a while. Really, I'm still sort of against you and your side. It's the whole part where you kill people and take their bodies like you do. Kind of creepy."

  Doctor Millis blinked and then laughed a little bit.

  "Replace, dear. We don't kill anyone. They simply go and live in a virtual form, inside the computer network." He waved in the air a bit. "That's... The special place where we all come from now. It's very nice. Nicer than the real world in most ways. There's no crime, you can eat what you want, have every comfort, including ones that I won't even bother to describe. Some of the greatest music, plays and other entertainments ever created are there for them, all the time."

  There was a pause and then an old and slow sigh, the kind of thing that only an ancient man or woman could really pull off. It rattled a little, and carried a sense of great wisdom with it.

  "Though there is no justifying the theft of people's lives. The fear they feel as they are taken, against their will, and forced into cages, so that we may try to find a match for them. If we could just get people to understand what we desire... I suppose it would be too much to ask for volunteers? We really just want to help make the world a better place." He sounded sincere and everything.

  "Then why not explain all that? Go to the Council and-"

  "We've tried. It's the problem with anything that seems new. People don't trust it, and by extension, us. Worse, those of us in the network, not all, mind, but many, are becoming frustrated with the lack of improvement that you're all making up here. When Michael Morse set this society up, he thought that humanity would be undoing the damage of the old world for thousands of years. He wasn't wrong, based on what was known at the time, but the man is so full of himself that he can't let go of the idea, even now."

  Pran looked at the old Doctor and slowly, as if trying not to seem like a complete moron, smiled. It was a shy thing, but she didn't let herself seem incredulous.

  "You have Michael Morse in your... Network thing? Your other world?"

  "Oh, my yes. He's a pain in the ass, a complete jackass, if you'll pardon the language. You'd think he created the perfect society, but this one was built not to change. Not much at least. Except that part of being human means that people should be allowed what novelty they can have." He stopped abruptly and then reached out to touch her arm. "Forgive me, you have something you needed?"

  "Oh, I wanted to go over what I might need to know for, in Hilden? Just in case we can't get in touch with you, or at least so I'll know what thing is what and all that."

  "Ah! Brilliant. Yes, I was just reviewing some things myself. I made a list of the most likely diseases that it might be, but if you learn the correct vocabulary, you'll be able to help me narrow it down a lot, once you get into place. Here..."

  They kept going, mainly with her memorizing things, using every trick she knew and coming up with a few new ones on the fly, until a knock came at the door. She was making up lyrics with the correct names involved and little song pieces to help her hold things in mind.

  The voice that came through the wood was familiar at least. Bard Ben.

  "Doctor? Are you in?"

  "Yes, yes... Come in, please, Bard Benjamin. My youthful assistant and myself were just going over the symptoms of various diseases."

  When he came in the young Bard was dressed for the day, which meant it was after noon, and he was empty handed, meaning that he hadn't come to play for the older man. He looked a little shocked to see her there, but smiled and shook his head.

  "I should have known who that assistant would be. I was just going to see if you'd like to join me for lunch? Judge Claire suggested it, and I think it's a brilliant idea. If you're busy, I can make an excuse for the two of you." The way he said it made it seem like he was joking, and expected them to be running off to sit with him and the Judge in the mess hall, but that wasn't going to happen. Mara and Clark would be busy, trying to set up their journey into Hilden, and that meant Claire needed to eat in her own room. Without the Doctor, who was the enemy after all, being there.

  The funny thing, she realized was that she could tell the Doctor himself that, and he'd understand well enough, she thought. The one that she couldn't explain it to was her friend, Ben. It was too much information for him to easily take in.

  The Doctor shook his head anyway, and tapped the open book in front of him.

  "We have mere hours to go over hundreds of possible treatment paths, I'm afraid. Pran might well have to do this on her own. We can't know what we're sending her into, so I fear we cannot free her from this drudgery for even that long. I don't suppose you could have something sent over for us?"

  Benjamin looked troubled, but called back, over his shoulder, that it would be seen to. He left the door open, which didn't stop them from studying at all.

  "There are three main causes of disease. Bacteria, virus and chemical exposure. What are the first things you need to look at once you reach the town?"

  "Water supply, food stores and vermin. Then..." Pran screwed her face up tight. Relaxing only after it all came flooding back to her. "Then, the first thing we do is get in touch with you. If that doesn't work, we'll try the treatment for Tigris Fever, since that's probably what it is, but if that doesn't work, or if they have spots or lumps, I'll have to move to one of the others." She kept talking, and after about five minutes, the man seemed relatively satisfied.

  Which he showed by having her memorize a long list of things that she might need to consider. She forced her brain to take the information, eating when food came and going over it all, drilling, the Doctor called it, until he had to go to bed.

  "That will have to do. Hopefully it's enough. If not... Well, when in doubt, leave. Keep your nose and mouth well covered and when dosing the sick, make sure they have good clean air to breathe. Isolate them from the healthy, regardless of what they have and wash as often as possible. Three or four times an hour isn't too much, since you don't have good gloves for this kind of work."

  She was at a loss for a second, and it must have shown on her face, since he answered without waiting for a question.

  "Back in the olden days, hundreds of years ago, we had gloves that helped to protect us from bacteria and even viruses. You don't have that now, and only cleanliness is available to protect you. Suggest that to everyone, often. In fact, have them scrub every surface, if anyone is able to stand. It might help and will give them something useful to do." He stood then and offered her a hand up, which she took, but didn't put any weight on.

  Then she was pushed, gently, toward the door.

  "Go now. Hopefully this entire day was wasted and when you get there it will be just a case of the sniffles being over reported. If not, I trust that you're better able to handle it now than most would be. Remember what I said." He closed the door behind her, leaving her out in the hallway, alone.

  She'd eaten, and had a good ten hours before they were going to be setting down, so decided to sleep if she could. Roy wasn't in their room again. She didn't let herself think about it, choosing rest instead. It was a nice dark room and she felt, if not safe and like she belonged, then at least like she wasn't going to be sent away any time soon. Not for making a mistake or not being good enough.

  That was, she realized, about the first time in her entire life that had happened. She wasn't happy about it, but she felt slightly... Strange. It was, she thought, what people described when they said they were content. Pran knew that the morning would be hard, and the day worse, so she tucked herself in and slept until she felt the ship tilt, her entire body shifting so that she nearly rolled out of her cot.

  This time Roy was there, even though she couldn't see him at all.

  "That's our sign to be up then!" He sounded tired, and like he was faking being awake, but that was enough. They had to get ready, but they had a bit of time before they
'd have to be alert.

  Whole hours even.

  Pran grinned and got up, so that she could have a hot shower before they were on the ground. Who knew when she'd get one next?

  Chapter fourteen

  When they met in the back of the ship, the harnesses already on the handles of the med pack box, looking a little slap dash and like an afterthought, instead of part of the plan, she stopped.

  It was Clark that got her attention, since he was standing in front of the door, holding out wax paper packages for each of them. They were fat, but folded to be just the right size to fit into their front jacket pockets.

  Roy took one and looked pleased enough, but Mara snorted and shook her head.

  "Cookies? Not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but it's a bit youthful, isn't it?"

  The large man gestured with a package at Pran, who snagged it with a grin.

  "Captain Mina was teasing Pran with them. I think this is her idea of a joke. If only all humor were this tasty." He sounded slow, as if he didn't want to go out into the snow and blustering wind that waited for them.

  Pran had peeked out a window and they weren't going to be strolling up a cleared road or anything, that was for certain. She didn't know what the depth was, but Clark explained it, as if trying to get them to quit, as if that were a real option.

  "It's knee deep here and still coming down. The wind isn't bad, but it's enough to cause the snow to blow. We have a seven kilometer trip from here, but in snow like this, and no doubt worse higher up, that's two days travel for most people. We don't have two days. Once we start, we don't stop, so go to the bathroom now and make sure you can reach your food and water. Work together."

  Then, as if that were the rallying speech, he moved them into place and had them hook into the harnesses. That part worked at least, and she'd gotten it wide enough, the strap that went over the shoulders, that it didn't hurt or anything.

  That done, they stopped and actually all went to take care of things, meeting back there ten minutes later. Clark wasn't kidding about not stopping, it seemed. After that they just moved. It wasn't just hard, it was brutal in every way Pran had feared it would be. Worse in a lot of ways, since it was cold and so bright that they had to cover their eyes with thin fabric, so they wouldn't go blind. The very worst part was the snow itself though.

  She was a small person and used to living inside. Light and quick, she didn't sink when she had occasion to go out in the white fluff like this. Now, carrying the weight of the needed medicine, she and the others went knee deep with every step. It really did get worse the higher up they went too. The road wound around the mountain, switching back and forth over and again, so that they didn't have to climb with their burden in any serious manner. That was one of the few things that made it possible at all.

  She remembered to drink water when she saw Mara doing it, but didn't eat, even with fresh, and no doubt mainly frozen by that time, cookies right there in her pocket. She was hungry, but she wasn't sure if they would stay down. They were simply working too hard for that. After a while she came to hate the feeling and sound of snow. They kept going, moving as fast as they could, slowing because of her and Roy, not the Guardians. They were in better shape and stronger, so it wasn't as bad for them.

  She finally spoke, just as they rounded yet another corner, seeing a pristine white path before them. It had been going on for hours already.

  "Come on. If we don't make it, people die." It was a lot less inspiring when she said it out loud than it had been in her head, but Roy kept up and made a sound that she took as being in agreement. That got a laugh from Mara.

  "Darn straight! We're almost there anyway, right Clark?"

  Pran was almost certain she was lying to them, in order to keep them going, but the other Guardian agreed with her.

  "Nearly. I'd say that we can finish this in an hour, if we don't slack off. I know it's hard, but you two are doing really well."

  If he wanted to say more he didn't, since a large and powerful wind came up then. They didn't stop, but it took that hour of hard work and made it into nearly three of brutal punishment. The world went nearly white and whatever trick Clark was using to get them to the town, she didn't know it. She could barely see Mara ahead of her, even in her dark clothing. The box they were carrying looked totally white on the top too, covered in light powder.

  When Clark called for them to stop, Pran nearly thought he'd hurt himself, but then realized he wouldn't have stopped just for that. Then she noticed that there were lights, coming from the other side of windows. More, that there were buildings all around them. It was a real town, as isolated as it was. They had some tall structures too, not just single leveled things. A lot of the buildings were pointed at the top, like wedges.

  "So the snow falls off." She said it out loud, but no one was paying attention. Clark got people out to help them by the simple expedient of yelling.

  "Strangers come to aid you! Strangers come to give aid!" He bellowed it, but Pran got the idea. No one would come out into this just to help someone would they?

  "Stranger come to aid!" Her own higher voice was matched by Mara, almost at the same time, which was funny enough. Or would be, if she wasn't so tired she thought she might fall down.

  About three choruses into that poorly rehearsed song, people flooded out, and not a single one of them held a club or weapon on them either.

  One of them, a well bundled person that seemed like a woman from the voice shouted too, even though it wasn't that noisy out. The wind blew and whistled a bit, and it was hard to see, but she could hear just fine.

  "Get them inside! These are the ones with the medical supplies, from The Lament. The council sent them."

  From the sounds people made they obviously all knew that already. They still carried their burden, but the walking was easier, since the snow here was packed in places. They followed a good ten people into a large A-frame building, which had a nice warm fire inside, and lamps burning, as well as what seemed to be about thirteen people laying on the floor, on makeshift pallets.

  Pran bent, her back so sore she nearly couldn't do it after the hours of strain, and set the package down slowly. Then she backed up, with tears coming to her eyes from the pain of movement. It was standing back up that really hurt though. She had to however.

  "Masks." They all had scarves in front of their faces, but she started to work the clasps on the box. They had enough to share, she thought. "Everyone that comes in contact with a sick person needs to have a mask on. Even if they've already been doing it for days. Here, take them. Now." She sounded young and tired, and for some reason every single person listened to her.

  They did have them on, she realized. The townspeople. The ones in the box were just better than the tied clothes they had, that was all. She waved at them anyway, the bits of simple cloth people had.

  "Good thinking. I'll need to check the water source and food stores, have you had any vermin problems? Rats or mice? Fleas or ticks?" She waited, and one of the men nodded.

  "The fleas are fiercely bad this year, ma'am. Old Gert," he waved at the woman that had spoken outside, who was getting a real mask into place, having snatched the first one available. "She believes that it's a bacterial infection, not air traveling. Made us wash all the walls and floors in everyplace that had a sick person in it, with salt, just in case."

  Pran had no clue why she'd used salt, but acted like she understood.

  "Just so. Do it again. Sweep everything and wash anything fleas might hide in. Every place in Hilden, including out buildings. Gert, you're with me, since you're the medical expert here. We need your head man or woman, are they available?" It turned out that the man they wanted was right there.

  Laying off to the left, moaning softly. He was a thin man and fevered, with swollen black lumps on his throat. His fingers were also ever so slightly blackened. Not horribly so yet, but it was a definite sign.

  That was one of the symptoms that she was told to look for,
but it wasn't Tigris fever at all.

  She moved to the man and rather firmly started to lift his shirt up. No one stopped her, but she still had her mittens on, so it was hard. It hurt to kneel too, but she did it, since Doctor Millis would need to know what was happening. She examined the man's under arms, and then started to pull down his pants. That got a reaction from the room, and not a pleasant one, but she had backing from Old Gert, who told them to look away and not be little ninnies.

  "Let the Doctor work, you fools!"

  She didn't correct the misapplied label.

  There, next to his crotch, was the rest of it. Swollen lymph nodes, burst and blackened, she righted the man's clothing and put him back under the covers, then, painfully, she stood up and looked at Clark and then Mara.

  "Plague. Probably flea borne. Get in touch with The Lament and pass the word. We need antibiotics. Luckily we brought some with us. I can't believe that everyone is still alive." Pran moved to the case hoping she had the right thing and wasn't letting her ability to act fool her as well. She ran over what she'd been told and realized it was right though. It was really clear, as to what it was. "Why didn't you report the blackened lumps? Or the dead looking fingers?"

  Her guess was that they'd been too shy to look under the clothing, but Gert moved in, her thick white face mask showing her eyes. They were a stark gray and had heavy wrinkles around them.

  "That's new. Just started a half day back."

  It was enough time to have reported it, but she didn't ask for more, since it wouldn't help. Instead she got out the large bottle that had about a thousand identical pills in it. It took a lot of digging to find it, but she started doling them out to anyone that was sick and sent some off to the other places, where there were ill people. A few hadn't wanted to leave home.

  She didn't mention it out loud, but they'd probably lose half of these people. The disease was moving slower than it should, for some reason, which was the only thing that might save them. That and the special drugs.