Dawn

by Eldon Farrell

  Samantha said nothing. She heard sirens outside in the distance and watched the man’s eyes glance in that direction. He said, “You’re quite the competitor on the court. We’ll have to play some time, though you may need to go a little easy on me.”

  Samantha searched her memory for his face, but couldn’t place him anywhere. She nodded politely and turned to leave.

  “Dr. Rory,” he said, “might I have a moment of your time?”

  Samantha frowned. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

  He stood. His eyes glittered and she felt them roaming over her body. She clutched her bag to her chest and waited for him to speak.

  “We met a few days ago. At the gala,” he said. “Granted, I was dressed more upscale at the time.”

  Recognition dawned for Samantha and she relaxed, letting the bag come away from her chest. An ambulance roared past outside—its lights flashing. “Commissioner Logue, of course.” She extended her hand for a shake and asked, “What brings you here?”

  Logue motioned her toward the corner. “Now that we’re reacquainted, do you remember what we spoke about at the gala?”

  Samantha nodded. “You were interested in my work with cybernetics.”

  Logue said, “That’s correct. And you told me you were ready to begin human trials.”

  “I am,” Samantha said. “We’re in the process of vetting viable candidates right now.”

  Sirens wailed outside as a fire engine sped past followed by a squad car. Logue raised his finger and said, “I have a volunteer ready for the program.”

  Samantha shifted her duffel bag on her shoulder. “It doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid. When you said you were interested in helping me, I assumed you meant financially. Candidates need to be matched precisely for the procedure to work.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t accept volunteers.”

  Logue grabbed her elbow as she tried to move past him. He lowered his chin and whispered close to her ear, “You know what’s happened today?”

  Samantha looked to the HoloSphere projection on the wall and heard sirens fading in the distance. Logue released his grip and said, “There’s been an attack. They bombed a subway train and one of my men is next to death. He needs your program to have a chance to live. He needs your help, Doctor.”

  She took a deep breath. Her thoughts buzzed inside her head like a swarm of angry bees.

  Logue grinned. “You help my man, and I’ll help you.”

  Samantha furrowed her brow. This isn’t the way. We have protocols in place for a reason. I can’t accept just anybody into the program. If the match isn’t perfect, it could kill him. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I can’t help you.”

  Logue pursed his lips. “I see.” His fingers played with the cufflink of his jacket. “Would you like to know the name of the man you’re killing?”

  Samantha stared slack-jawed at him. “How dare you—”

  “His name is Nathan Miller,” Logue interrupted. “He has a wife who loves him. Without your help, Doctor, all she’ll be left with are a folded flag and memories of a dead husband. Is that what you want? Are your rules worth more than Nathan’s life?”

  “That’s not fair,” Samantha said. “I’m sorry for what’s happened, Commissioner, but I’m not killing anyone. There’s a high probability rushing him into the program will kill him.”

  Logue said, “Denying him entry to the program is guaranteed to kill him. Nathan deserves the chance to live—no matter how small. Don’t you agree, Dr. Rory?”

  Samantha sighed and rubbed at her forehead. I can’t get involved with this, can I? Giving him the treatment without vetting him first is a serious breach of protocol. Our funding could be pulled. But, am I not a doctor first and foremost? Can I deny him his only chance at life? Plus, with his reach, it couldn’t hurt to have the commissioner on my side when it comes time to raise more capital.

  Logue said, “Not to pressure you or anything, but time is running out. I need your decision.”

  If he’s going to die anyway. “All right. No promises, but I’ll look at his case.”

  Logue smiled. “All I ask.”

  Samantha said, “I assume Nathan hasn’t consented to this treatment?”

  “His wife will consent.” Logue looked away a moment. “I have the utmost faith in your ability to convince her of the merits of your procedure.”

  Samantha blinked. “Why me?”

  Logue gave her a flat stare. “You are the doctor. I think it would mean more coming from you.”

  She ran her fingers through her hair and asked, “Where is she now?”

  “Blue Ridge Memorial,” Logue answered. “My car is parked outside. Let’s not delay any further.”

  Samantha followed Logue outside into the bright sunlight. He took her duffel bag from her shoulder and tossed it in the trunk of a sleek, black AE4 sedan. She looked to her left and saw black smoke rising between the buildings. Samantha lowered into the car thinking about what she would say to the wife of a dying man.

  Samantha flipped through Nathan’s chart. She had never encountered such an extensive list of trauma in her ten years of medicine. How he even remained alive was a mystery to her.

  She closed the file and walked through the sliding doors to the post-op waiting room at Blue Ridge Memorial. The room was empty, except for a man and woman. Samantha stepped further into the room and said, “Mrs. Miller?”

  The woman lifted her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed and tears streaked her make-up. She clutched the man’s hand for support and rose to greet her. “How is my husband?”

  The desperation in her voice pained Samantha. She looked at the man next to Lucy and asked, “Are you immediate family, sir?”

  The man snorted. “As good as.” He flashed a gold badge clipped to his belt and Samantha understood.

  “This is Tommy,” Lucy said.

  “Do you want him here for this, Mrs. Miller?”

  Tommy took a step forward. “I ride into the jaws of hell with the boss every damn day. I’m staying right here.”

  Samantha stared at him. If she had to, she knew she could have security remove him, but that would depend on Lucy’s wishes.

  “He can stay,” Lucy said. “Tell me about my husband.”

  Samantha motioned for them both to sit. She sat on a molded plastic seat across from them and held Nathan’s chart against her chest—as if it were a shield that could offer protection from what was to come. “Your husband is in dire condition. Machines are the only thing keeping him alive.”

  Lucy gasped. She brought a hand up to cover her mouth and leaned her head against Tommy’s chest. Samantha gave her a moment. When the sobs lessened, Samantha said, “He suffered third-degree burns over sixty percent of his body.”

  “The boss is tough.” Tommy sniffed and squeezed Lucy’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through.”

  Samantha said, “We can treat his burns in time, but time is something Nathan doesn’t have. The blast caused catastrophic damage to his left side. His arm . . . is gone.”

  Lucy cried out, and fresh tears spilled forth. Tommy comforted her as Samantha continued. “Shrapnel from the explosion shredded his left leg and it will need to be amputated from the knee down. The damage to his face is also extensive. His jaw is broken, the cheekbone is fractured, and he will lose his left eye. Once the surgeons have a better look, it’s possible his shoulder will need replacing as well.”

  Lucy’s shoulders trembled under Tommy’s grip. Samantha noted the earlier bravado missing from his face. “All of that is secondary, though,” she said. “The impact from the blast affected many of Nathan’s internal organs. His ribs are shattered, and bone fragments threaten his heart and lungs. I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller, but without severe intervention, Nathan will die soon.”

  Lucy sobbed. She slid from her chair onto her knees and pounded the hospital tile in frustration. “This can’t be happening! It can’t be.”

  Tommy knelt beside her and wrapped her in an e
mbrace. He rocked her for several minutes before looking up at Samantha. His eyes caused her to take a step back. “You listen to me, doc. That man is the toughest fighter I’ve ever known. He’s not going out like this. Nathan is going to live. Don’t count him out.”

  Samantha nodded. She felt Lucy’s grief like a punch to the gut. What must it be like to experience such love? And loss? “Nathan has one chance to live.”

  Both of them looked at her. Lucy extricated herself from Tommy’s arms and asked, “What chance?”

  Samantha answered, “I have an experimental program designed to implant cybernetics into people. The procedure is not without risks. Given the trauma Nathan has already suffered, he could die on the table. And even if he survives the surgery, the risk of rejection would be high. But, this remains his only chance at survival. I wouldn’t push this decision on you, but time is running out for us to do anything.”

  “Wait a minute,” Tommy said. “You want to turn him into a robot?”

  Samantha shook her head. “Not a robot. He will have cybernetic parts, but he’ll still be human.”

  Lucy chewed her lip. “There is no other way?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Samantha said.

  “You can’t do this,” Tommy said to Lucy.

  “He’ll die if I don’t.”

  “No. He can pull through.”

  Lucy pushed him away. “Have you even been listening? He’s ruined.”

  “He wouldn’t want this,” Tommy said. “He’d rather be dead than a gimp or a freak.”

  Lucy slapped Tommy across the cheek. “I won’t let him die!” She sniffed and wiped her sleeve across her nose. “I can’t lose him. I won’t.”

  Tommy rubbed his cheek. “You do this, and you will.”

  Lucy whirled on Samantha. “Where do I sign?”

  Samantha extended the form clipped to Nathan’s file. “Sign at the bottom.” She listened to the pen scratch across the page as Lucy signed her name.

  “Save my husband,” she said, handing the form back to her.

  Samantha stood. “I’ll do what I can.”

  She watched Nathan through the translucent SmartScreen window. Samantha’s fingers touched the glass and brought up a display of his vitals. His breathing was steady and assisted by the ventilator next to his bed. Blood pressure, oxygenation, and brain activity all fell within acceptable norms.

  A nurse moved into the recovery room. He adjusted the settings on the ventilator and recorded Nathan’s vitals in his chart. Four hours out of surgery, and so far, it was a rousing success.

  Samantha collapsed the display of Nathan’s vitals and replaced them with readouts on his implants. A jagged red line traced across the screen, moving ever upward. “Hmmm,” she mused to herself. She pressed the glass twice to mark boundaries around the line.

  “Well done, Dr. Rory.”

  Logue’s voice startled Samantha and caused her to jump. Logue strolled toward her, a grin splitting his features.

  Samantha returned her attention to the readout. “It’s too early to celebrate.”

  “Nonsense,” Logue said. “You got him through surgery, and he’s resting now.”

  “He’s in a medically-induced coma.”

  Logue shrugged. “Rest is rest. Bask in your accolades, Doctor. You saved his life. His wife is forever in your debt.”

  “You’ve spoken to his wife?”

  Logue beamed. “I relayed the news of your success. She’s ecstatic.”

  Although it shouldn’t have, Logue giving the news to Lucy upset Samantha. If anyone was going to tell her, it should’ve been me. It’d mean more coming from his doctor. “That’s premature,” Samantha said in a clipped tone. She tapped the glass. “You see this red line? It’s tracking the circuitry of his implants. It should be smooth and level.”

  Logue stood beside her and asked, “So what does it mean when it looks like that?”

  Her eyes darted across the screen, taking in the full view of the readout. “It means the likelihood of rejection is growing.” Samantha fixed him with a hard stare. “I tried to warn you about this. He wasn’t vetted—he didn’t pass the stringent protocols for this procedure.”

  Logue looked beyond the readout at Nathan. “He’s a tough SOB, he’ll pull through.”

  Samantha whirled around on him. “It has nothing to do with how tough he is. His body is fighting the implants designed to save his life.”

  Logue kept his gaze on Nathan. “What can you do about it?”

  “We can up his dosage of anti-rejection meds, but only to a point. Sooner or later, his body needs to accept the cybernetics, or he’ll die.” Unable to stop herself, Samantha added, “Which is why you shouldn’t have spoken to his wife without all the facts. What happened to better coming from his doctor?”

  Logue bristled from the comment. He turned from the window and pulled on his shirt. His smile now gone, he said, “Keep me posted on his condition, Doctor. And watch your tone.”

  Samantha said, “Excuse me?”

  Logue stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. He leaned in and whispered close to her ear, “You’ve accomplished something great here today. Proof of concept is right on the other side of that glass. We can make wonderful use of this technology of yours, so let’s not start out with petty animosity, shall we?”

  She felt her skin crawl from his touch. His breath on her neck made her shiver. He stepped back, and she stood her ground. Logue flashed a grin and nodded before he walked away. Samantha said, “The next twenty-four hours will be telling.”

  “He’s in the most capable of hands,” Logue said.

  “Commissioner!” Logue turned around and waited for Samantha to continue. She pointed at the glass. “Why him? What makes Nathan Miller so special to you? How many were injured or mutilated in that blast, yet didn’t receive a second glance from you? I know you’ve lost officers in the line of duty before. Why go to these lengths now?”

  Logue smiled at her, but did not answer.

  Samantha stretched her arms over her head and yawned. It had been a long day. She shuffled up the walkway to her home as a cold wind rattled the bare branches above her, causing the shadows splayed across the ground to move.

  Another yawn, and she reached into her bag for her keys. Her fingers brushed against her HoloSphere. She’d synced it to Nathan’s vitals before leaving the hospital and pulled it out to check the latest readings. The anti-rejection meds continued to do a minimal job of holding the line.

  Samantha shook her head and dropped the device back into her bag. Behind her, a pair of car doors opened and slammed shut. The intrusive noise raised gooseflesh on her skin. She searched her bag for her wayward keys while casting furtive glances back to the street.

  A shadowed pair approached her pathway—their footfalls loud in the quiet night. Her fingers found her keys and the canister of mace spray she kept in the bottom of her purse. The pace of their steps increased. She fumbled her keys, dropping them into the bushes next to her door. Samantha clutched the mace as she turned to face them.

  “Dr. Rory,” one of them said. He stepped out of the shadows and she recognized him from the waiting room. She loosened her grip on the canister. “Tommy Roquefort.” He pointed to his right. “This is Jon Cruz. We’re with the UCPD. We work with Nathan. Do you remember me?”

  Samantha glanced at Jon, then returned her tired gaze to Tommy. “I do. Why are you here? What’s this about?”

  “We’d like a word,” Jon said. He nodded toward her door. “Can we go inside?”

  She frowned at them. “If this is about my patient, I can’t discuss his condition with you.”

  Tommy grinned at her. “It’s not. This is about something best discussed inside.”

  Samantha’s gaze fell to the bush beside her.

  “Go on,” Jon said. “Grab your keys.”

  Samantha crouched and rooted around under the bush until her fingers felt the steel of the key ring. She snatched them up and faced her unwa
nted guests. With conviction, she said, “It’s late. I’m due back at the hospital first thing, and I need to sleep. If you need to speak with me, contact my office and they’ll set something up.”

  She turned away and inserted the key in the lock. Harsh laughter grew behind her. “We’re UCPD, honey,” Jon said. “We’re not asking.”

  Samantha unlocked her door and withdrew the key. She stuffed it in her pocket before turning around to face them. She noted Jon’s sneer even in the dim light. Being in their company set her nerves on edge. No way are they getting inside. She sighed. “Ask your questions here then. And be quick about it.”

  Tommy took a step closer, and she moved back against her door. “Relax, Doctor,” he said. “No need to be nervous.”

  “I’m not,” she lied. “I’m tired and angry at this intrusion. How long did you two wait for me to come home, anyway?”

  “We’ll ask the questions here.” Jon said.

  “Then ask them,” Samantha said, “I haven’t got all night.”

  Tommy raised a hand to Jon. Samantha took the gesture to mean he would handle it from there. Tommy asked, “How did Nathan come to your attention, Doctor?”

  Samantha placed her hands on her hips and said, “I told you, I can’t discuss my patient with you.”

  Tommy cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not. We’re talking about before he became your patient.”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that. I can’t discuss this with you.”

  “What bullshit—”

  Tommy interrupted. “Cool it, JC.” He stared at Samantha for a moment. His gaze made her uncomfortable. He shifted his feet and said, “I can respect your dedication to the rules. But let me share something with you, so you can understand what’s at stake here. Nathan and I were working an angle to expose corruption at the highest levels in this city. Him getting hit like this is a little too coincidental for me.”

  Samantha noticed Jon give Tommy a look, who promptly shrugged it off. She said, “He was injured in a terrorist attack. Homefront have claimed responsibility.”

  Another look passed between the two cops before Tommy said, “That’s not in dispute. Somebody always pulls the strings, though. I can’t share everything with you. I just can’t. What I can say is Malachy figured into our theory, and so I need to know who turned you onto Nathan’s case?”