3rd World Products, Book 17 (35 page)

Steve Lane, 25, brown/brown, six-one, one-seventy-five, other info. A cop in a town north of Dallas. Sifting hospital info turned him up in ICU, of course. Two forty-cal rounds in the chest and a cracked skull. A round nicked his aorta. Other internal damage. Seven units of blood and plasma used during transport and prep for the OR.

I sent probes to ICU to have a look. They had him on machines in a room by himself. A video camera above the bed watched him sleep. No windows and one big door. An exterior wall to the west, but there was a major building support running through it. Couldn’t just carve a hole and grab him. Wouldn’t anyway. Couldn’t disconnect him without setting off alarms.

Well, yes, I
could
disconnect him if I left a sim to keep the machines happy, but getting him out of that room presented a problem. He’d need life support however I did it. The AIs could act to immediately save someone’s life, but they’d likely also stop me to stay within the law.

Athena linked to say, “Ed, I’ve been monitoring your activities since your bios rose in Admiral Wallace’s office. Your probe activities indicate you’re looking for a way to extract Mr. Lane from ICU. I fail to see how it would be helpful to Mr. Lane to be sure of that at this time, so I’d like to offer some thoughts, if I may.”

“Anytime, ma’am. You know that.”

“Thank you. If I knew with certainty that you intended to harm or kill someone, I would be duty bound to stop you. As I interpret your intentions, that is not your goal. If you attempted to kidnap someone, I would be duty bound to stop you, but again, that is obviously not your true intention. You appear to wish only to take Mr. Lane to better medical care. If someone authorized to release Mr. Lane to you would voluntarily do so, I could regard Mr. Lane’s transportation to a superior facility as a medical emergency and act to preserve his life without interfering.”

“Thank you, Athena. Is there anything else I should know?”

She chuckled, “Oh, undoubtedly, Ed, but nothing that would affect the success of this still-hypothetical endeavor.”

Turning on my refractive field and flitting down to the ER entrance, I took a seat on a big blue Post Office mailbox and replied, “Ha, ha, sweetie. And thanks again.”

Nobody came or went for a couple of minutes so I looked in the garbage can for something that would trigger the motion sensors above the door without alarming anyone watching security cameras. Someone had thrown away a newspaper. Maybe a full page fluttering by would do it?

Fielding the paper out of the trash, I opened it and removed one of the large folded pages, then put the rest back. Suspending the page fully opened in a circular field, I sent the field rolling past the doors. They obligingly opened and I hurried inside.

ICU was on the second floor. I was about to risk the elevator when a woman in scrubs opened a stairwell door. Sending a field to slow its closing, I scooted through after her. She started up the steps and I used my board to elevate myself to the next landing.

The woman checked her pulse against her watch at the top of the steps, nodded, took a few breaths to return things to normal, and then opened the door. I followed her through and narrowly avoided a collision with a man who caught and held the door for her, then turned to go through it himself.

Moving carefully to avoid people, I thought, ‘
Okay, I’m here. Now what?
‘ and looked for a place to stand while I figured that out.

First, locate all personnel. I checked duty rosters and found two on break, one at the nurse’s station, two in hallways, one administering medications, and two doctors. One doc was reading a chart and making notes behind the nurse’s station and the other was napping on a black leather couch in an office.

I did some rooting in hospital regs. Oddly enough, neither doc could authorize treatment changes, but either doc could sign transport stuff. Yay. Accidentally score one for inept bureaucracy.

The doc with the chart was in his early forties, married, had three kids, was heavily mortgaged and otherwise deep in debt, and worked long hours when he wasn’t golfing. A bribe might tempt him sorely, but he probably wouldn’t take it for fear of losing everything.

The other doc — Ted Morely — was in his late fifties with a fairly modest set of utility bills involving a small house, a car his insurance had recently replaced, and alimony to an ex-wife. He had a two month old back injury from the car accident. No kids and no unusual expenses except for two two-week trips to Mexico every year.

I almost wrote the trips off as his pet extravagance, but then I noticed some cross-referencing to a couple of charities and dug deeper. Apparently Morely spent a full month each year working for free at clinics in Central Mexico.

Bingo? Seemed like it to me. Probes found no active cameras in the office. The door was locked, but a tendril through the door flipped the lock’s tiny handle up. It also made a snapping noise that must have sounded like a damned gunshot in that sparsely-furnished office. I switched to my rabble-rouser field suit for the corridor cameras and had the suit alter my voice for Doc Morely.

Sure enough, when I pushed the door open, I saw Morely leaning on an elbow, peering around the end of the couch at the door. I eased the door shut behind me and fed the doc theta waves as I locked it.

“Doc,” I said, “You’ve gone to Mexico twice a year for the last eight years. You work for free there. I figure that’s because you wouldn’t be necessary in the robodoc countries and can’t do the same thing here in the States without losing your insurance. Close enough?”

Somewhat glassy-eyed, he managed, “Uh… Yes. Esh…essench… essentially so.” I let up the thetas a bit and he sat up groggily and asked, “Who are you? What do you want?”

“Let’s hold those questions for a minute. Who funds your trips to Mexico and the work there?”

Shrugging, Morely replied, “I do. I get a few donations from a few supporters, but its never really enough.” Gesturing around, he grunted, “That’s why I work here.”

“On the night shift. On a weekend, no less. For extra money, or because you aren’t on any of the right lists?”

His gaze narrowed slightly. “Some of each. Why are you asking me all these questions?”

Time was wasting. I decided to go for it and said, “Because you can sign Steve Lane out. To me, for transport to a better facility.”

That cleared his head. He sat straight and blurted, “A better… Are you out of your mind?! Do you have any idea what’s…”

I interrupted with, “No, and I don’t care ‘what’. I can get him to a robodoc clinic alive. I need a legal release to make that happen.”

Shaking his head, Morely said emphatically, “I still say you’re out of your mind. He’d die the moment his life support stopped.”

“It won’t stop.” Calling up a screen, I showed him flitter medical capabilities and demonstrated how to page through the screens.

Morely studied half a dozen pages, then returned to the index and tapped up three pages in particular. When he looked up at me again after a few moments, he seemed to want to say something, then shook his head tightly.

He said, “Never mind. How would we get him out of here?”

I echoed, “We?”

Doc stood up and said, “You don’t think I’d stick around here for the shitstorm this is going to cause, do you? I’m unpopular enough. If you want my signature, I’m coming with you. And that’s not all. I’m going to want a new life somewhere else. That takes money.”

Huh. Well, not everyone wants to be a hero. I pinged Milla at the Georgetown clinic.

When she answered, I said, “I’m about to call you on a screen, ma’am. Please don’t mention my name during our chat.”

“May I ask why?”

“I’d rather explain
after
I deliver the patient.”

“I see. Okay, Ed.”

“Thanks, Milla. Stand by one.”

Using the screen, I sent her another ping. After a moment, she answered, “Hello. How may I help you?”

“Hi, Milla.” Thumbing at Morely, I said, “Doctor Theodore Morely has expressed a strong interest in working in disadvantaged countries. I’m kind of in the middle of something important and I could really use his cooperation, so I thought you might look him up and see if you could use him on your staff.”

She paused a full second before replying with a salary amount and accommodations in the clinic’s housing floors, then said, “Doctor Morely, we also export standard Earth medical services to nearby countries which do not allow robodocs. If you wish, we can furnish you with a small clinic in your choice of locations in Mexico.”

Morely seemed stunned. “You… you people must already have studied me for this. It has to be some kind of setup.”

Milla sent a copy of herself to Morely’s office. Appearing in front of him, she said, “I assure you, Dr. Morely…”

He backstepped fast, fell over the coffee table, and ended up suspended above it as Milla directed her field. She turned him rightside-up and stood him on his feet less than a yard away from her gorgeous apparition. He groaned and clutched at his lower back as he slowly straightened

As she held a hand out to him, I said, “She can fix that back problem, Doc. This gorgeous AI is Milla, the robodoc in Georgetown, Guyana. She’s real and her offer’s real. Now shake her hand, accept, thank her, and let’s get the hell out of here.”

Morely didn’t move as Milla looked at me and coolly asked, “Is there a reason to hurry?”

Pretending tenseness, I replied, “Oh, yes, ma’am, there definitely is. But you officially
don’t
want to know about it yet and you only dropped in here tonight to offer him a job, okay?”

Arching an eyebrow, she said, “Perhaps I should leave now and discuss this with Dr. Morely if or when he arrives at my clinic.”

I quickly agreed, “Yes’m, that’s probably a
great
idea.”

Nodding, she said, “Dr. Morely, I apologize most profoundly for causing you pain. My offer stands. Goodbye, gentlemen.”

With that, she disappeared. Morely gawked at the empty space. Unhooking my coffee mug from my pants pocket, I took a sip and put it back. Morley’s eyes noticed and followed my motions, then he seemed to galvanize in some manner.

Walking to his desk, he shuffled some plastic folders, picked one, opened a desk drawer and took out a form, and set it on the folder. Taking a deep breath, he looked at me as if coming to some kind of final decision, then plucked the desk’s pen out of its holder.

As he wrote, he asked, “You just need valid authorization, right?”

“Yup. Two of them, both originals. One for the folder and one as a backup. Just say he’s going to a better facility. With that, an AI keeping Lane alive during transport would technically only be emergency medical personnel.”

“Uh… okay. Where? What facility?”

“Just put ‘
a better facility
‘. Lane can tell them later.”

Morely spread his hands and stared down at the papers for a moment, then looked at me disbelievingly and said, “This is absolute
bullshit
! Nobody’d
ever
transport a man in Lane’s condition!”

“The law only requires a valid release, Doc. It doesn’t have to make sense because it was written by politicians, not doctors. How much longer are you going to keep Lane waiting?”

Returning to his scribbling, Morely said, “This isn’t going to get him out of here. How do you plan to get him out of the building?”

“The same way I got in. The stairwell. He’ll be in stasis…”

Looking up, Morely snapped, “In
what?!
”

“Field stasis. Think of cryosleep without the cold. He’ll also be inside a refractive field…” Morely’s mouth opened and I held up a hand to stop him, then said, “Invisible. Light bends around it. They’ll see whatever’s behind us.”

His gaze narrowed. “Prove it. Show me.”

I keyed on my three suit and effectively disappeared. Morely got up and walked toward me, groping ahead until his hand found my left arm. I turned off my three suit and said, “Like that.”

Stepping back until his butt hit his desk, Morely muttered, “Oh, dear God, it’s all true,” and wiped his face with his hands, then wiped his hands on his pants.

“Yup. You just have a case of the jitters, Doc. Keep an eye on me and don’t panic until I do. Are those forms ready?”

He reached around for the folder and paper clipped the forms to it as he nodded. “Yes.”

“Great. Now put one in an envelope addressed to your home and put a stamp on it.”

“Why?”

“Because it has to exist for at least two hours and strange things can happen to critical evidence when politics are involved.”

Linking to Athena, I said silently, “We have that valid signature you mentioned, ma’am.”

“So I see. Proceed, please.”

“Yes, milady. Proceeding now, ma’am.”

When Morely finished the task and held up the envelope, I said, “It’s showtime. Bring the envelope and let’s go.”

Stopping at the door, I turned to face him, plucked the envelope out of his hand, and said, “By the way, Doc… If you decide to chicken out, that’s okay. No hard feelings. It’ll just mean you won’t get a job with Milla or a clinic in Mexico.”

His gaze narrowed and his jaw worked. “I won’t chicken out.”

I grinned and turned on my three suit, then expanded it to cover him as I said, “Great. Forget what I said about keeping an eye on me. You’ll be invisible too while you’re close to me.”

“How close?”

“Stay where I can see you.”

“
Whaaat?
”

I poked his chest and said, “I can see you. No sweat.”

“But… but I can’t see you! How the hell will I know where to be?!”

“I’d planned to direct our activities. You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be, doc. Tell you what; have you seen enough to trust me just a little?”

“Ah… I suppose so.”

Retracting my field so he became visible again, I said, “Good. Since I have the form, the point is moot anyway, so why don’t you just go for a walk outside? By the mailbox near the ER doors so I can find you fast. Now let’s get moving.”

I reached for the door, but he asked, “You won’t leave me here? You promise?”