by Judd Vowell
An Indian man in a bright white doctor's coat entered the room. He came to her bedside and smiled down at her. Internally, she was thrashing in panic, although her body remained lax and still. The man brought a peaceful presence to the room, but even that did not calm her.
“Hello, young lady,” he said. “I’ve been wondering when you might wake up. I know you are confused, but please try not to think too much. You’ve been asleep for a long time...”
The man’s voice trailed off as Jessica’s eyes grew weary and she fell back into unconsciousness. It would be another two days before she woke again, this time in a very different place.
ΔΔΔ
The hospital alerted Salvador of Jessica’s awakening within minutes of it happening. He went to see her for himself, even though she had drifted back into her comatose state by the time he arrived. He stood with the Indian man in the white coat outside her room, watching her through a large window.
“She slipped back quickly,” the doctor told him. “I was speaking to her for just a few seconds, then she was gone. But this is a very good sign. She should wake again soon.”
“How soon?” Salvador asked.
“Impossible to know. Could be a few minutes, could be a few days. The sedatives are completely out of her system. The muscle relaxers will fade next. It’s just a matter of when.”
“And her injuries?”
“Better every day, but there is still much healing for her body. She will be in tremendous pain the next time she wakes. We can administer medicine to help her.”
“No more medicine,” Salvador said. “I want her unhooked from the machines and moved. Now.”
“But Salvador, we don’t even know if she’s ready to breathe on her own. She’s been on a ventilator for thirty-three days.”
Salvador ignored the doctor’s caution. “You let me know if there are any complications, Dr. Khurana. Otherwise, I want her in that jail with the other prisoner as soon as possible.”
The doctor’s friendship with Salvador went back many years, so the formal address felt unusual. Salvador only used the man’s title and last name if he meant to exert his unspoken authority, and he had been that stern with the doctor only once before. Now, standing outside Jessica's hospital room, Salvador had made the doctor fully aware of his place in their relationship, whether he liked it or not.
“Yes, sir,” Dr. Raj Khurana said to Salvador, because there was nothing else that he could say.
19.
R aj Khurana was the youngest student at Stanford University’s School of Medicine when he first heard of the underground movement called ANTI-. His early academic brilliance had guided him through elementary and high school quickly, and he had received his college diploma by age nineteen. The desire to cure disease called him after that, medicine being one of the few careers in which he could see himself helping the human race. That had always been important to him, as he viewed humanity through the eyes of his Hindu religion. His Eastern perspective fed his Western education.
As the fall semester of his second year at Stanford came to an end, one of Raj’s study partners invited him to a holiday party, something unusual for the asocial Indian. It wasn’t that Raj didn’t like being around other people, he just didn’t know how to do it. His student friend pushed him to go until he relented and said yes. It turned out to be a decision that would keep him alive decades later, once the Great Dark began.
At the party, Raj found himself alone and awkward, just as he had predicted. He decided to wander through the off-campus house for amusement and distraction. The house was giant, with hallways and staircases throughout. Raj, plastic cup filled with keg beer in hand, began to explore. He found a game room and a study, a number of bedrooms and bathrooms. Then he got to a closed door at the end of a second-floor hallway, behind it the last room in the house that he had not seen. When he opened it, he saw that the room was full of people, their heads suddenly turned in his direction.
A man at the other end of the room was standing in mid-presentation. He was slightly older, good-looking with dark skin and thick black hair. “Hello there,” the man said. “Please, come in, find a place to sit.”
Raj had no idea what he was walking into, but he felt too embarrassed to turn around and run. He found an empty spot on the floor and sat with his feet folded under him. The good-looking man came to him and introduced himself. “I’m Salvador Sebastian,” he said. “Next time, don’t be late. Ok?” Raj nodded. And then he listened.
Salvador spoke for over an hour, the gathered people in the room hanging on each word that came from his mouth. He talked about government and corruption, society and technology, status quo and revolution. As impressed as the young people in the room around him seemed to be, Raj didn’t put much weight into the speech. He actually felt a bit ridiculous for wasting an hour of his young life.
When the informal meeting ended, Raj quickly made for the door. He was already at the other end of the hallway when Salvador caught up with him.
“Hold on,” he said as he put his hand on Raj’s shoulder. “I didn’t get a chance to say thanks for coming to our little gathering.”
“That’s ok,” Raj said. “Sorry I barged in like that.”
“Let me guess. You weren’t invited?”
“No, no invite for me. My mistake.”
“What would you think if I told you that fate brought you to that room tonight?” Salvador asked.
The question resonated with Raj. His Hindu faith had taught him a special reliance on the power of fate over coincidence. “Fate, you say?”
“Maybe. I know this: you were there for a reason tonight.”
Raj understood the importance of the moment. There was some sort of connection between the two of them that was different from most human interactions. He suddenly liked Salvador, and he dropped his guard. “I’m Raj,” he said, extending his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Raj. How about we get out of here and grab something to eat? Those speeches always make me hungry. I’m buyin’.”
“Yeah, ok,” Raj said, not fully knowing why.
Over the next few hours, the two discussed philosophy, religion, humanity, and life’s true purpose. As they parted ways, Raj knew that Salvador was going to alter his future’s direction. And Salvador knew that he had recruited another revolutionary.
Raj continued with medical school, focusing on infectious diseases, then cancer. He started his experimental cancer research facility in Nashville, far from his earlier life on the other side of the country. Funding for his research came from donors, with one annual donation providing for the overwhelming majority of his work. That donation could be traced back to a small company outside of San Francisco called Faultline Technologies, whose president was none other than Salvador Sebastian. After all, a cure for cancer would be invaluable in an elite society. Salvador had all the angles covered.
Once the Great Dark had taken hold, Raj remained in Nashville, assuming the role of hospital operations' head for the Sector 3 grid. The job left him in more of an administrative position than anything hands-on, and still allowed him time to continue his cancer research. He spent a year in the grid like this, managing a hospital and working on a cure. But the battle at Camp Overlord brought change to the Sector 3 grid, and a patient who would bring Dr. Raj back to the operating table one last time.
ΔΔΔ
When Jessica had arrived at the hospital the morning after the battle at Overlord had begun, something had drawn Dr. Raj to her. He even assisted in her surgery that day, scrubbing in to help save her life. He didn't know why at the time. His spirit had just called him to do it. He continued to monitor her daily after she survived her operation, something he would never have done for another patient. He made sure she received the most attentive care, and waited anxiously for her to wake from her coma.
So it deeply disturbed Dr. Raj when Salvador ordered him to disconnect the young girl from the machines and medicines that were keeping her alive. He had ne
ver seen Salvador act irrationally before. Hesitantly, he agreed to move her, but not without a grave worry.
After the nurse removed the IV, catheter, and pulse monitor from Jessica’s body, Dr. Raj stood in her hospital room and waited. Then he withdrew the ventilator’s tube from her mouth. He waited again as her body withstood the changes. Her breathing and heartrate remained stable. He walked to her bedside and leaned over, his mouth close to her ear.
“Be strong, my child,” he whispered. Then he instructed his hospital staff to prepare the transport. It was time to take her away.
His sleep later that night was fitful, with the past invading his dreams. Jessica's brief awakening must have stirred some memories of procedures and patients. One specific patient kept showing up in his subconscious when he did find sleep. She had been one of his favorites, a woman with whom he had felt a true spiritual connection. The third time her face appeared, he woke with a jump, as if he were falling. His heart was pounding in his chest and ears, and he felt a thin layer of sweat on his face.
“Meg,” he said out loud, his eyes wide with recognition. Then he realized why she was at the forefront of his mind, why she kept popping into his dream of past patients. It was because he knew the young girl he had been watching over, who looked so much like her mother. The familiarity was the reason his spirit had pushed him to help Jessica that first day when she was so badly hurt. She was Meg’s daughter, and Raj was the reason the girl was still alive.
20.
T he realization of Jessica's presence inside the Sector 3 grid threw Dr. Raj into a quandary. He had heard the story of her initial arrival at the grid’s border more than a month earlier, with Anna and the boy. How they had represented themselves as something they weren't. Then Simone and Jacob had deciphered their deception and discovered that they were some sort of rebels. Which led to the battle that had proven disastrous for the ANTs.
But Raj sensed something more to Jessica's part of the story. He had tried to help Meg before the darkness came. He had shown her where she could find the medicine that was killing the cancer she was fighting. It was stored in his hospital's pharmaceutical building, inside the Sector 3 grid. It had been a desperate act of friendship, and unfortunately the most he felt he could do for Meg. Now he couldn't help himself from thinking that Jessica had come to Nashville for her mother. And that maybe Meg had survived the Great Dark after all. If that was the case, he felt like he had to get Jessica back to her mother. It was the least he could do for the both of them.
Once Dr. Raj determined that he was going to help Jessica, and that he was going to defy Salvador by doing so, he knew where he would start. He needed to locate the Omega XT soldier who had revealed his conflicted heart to the doctor just after the battle at Camp Overlord.
ΔΔΔ
Several casualties had poured into Sector 3’s hospital throughout the day after the explosion at the bridge. Injuries ranged from minor to critical. Emergency surgeries had to be performed. Soldiers died from wounds that could not be repaired. While all of this took place, Dr. Raj had been occupied, operating on Jessica with a kind of hyper-focus. After the hours-long surgery was completed, he found himself in the middle of medical chaos. So he went back to work.
The last soldier he saw that day, long after night had fallen and the clock had moved past midnight, was only slightly injured. A nurse had placed a large bandage around the top of his head, but he was awake and alert. Dr. Raj approached him and removed the bandage. Even though the good doctor was tired, he was able to maintain his naturally warm bedside manner.
“Good evening, soldier. Let’s take a look.” Underneath the bandage was a large gash slicing across one half of the soldier’s forehead. It was still oozing blood, and Dr. Raj could see that it would require significant suturing. “Got yourself a pretty good cut here. We’ll have to stitch you up.”
The soldier nodded. Nothing more.
Dr. Raj did his work in silence, suturing the wound together methodically. His mind was beginning to fade as he finished, worn out from so many hours of action strung together without pause.
“All done,” he said. “I’ll get you some antibiotics for infection. Then you’re all set.”
“Doc, can I ask you something?”
Dr. Raj was surprised by the words. “He speaks!” he said jokingly, but the soldier didn’t laugh. “Of course you can. Fire away.”
“What are we doing here?” the soldier asked.
It was not something that Dr. Raj was expecting. He couldn’t imagine a philosophical question coming from an Omega XT at that point, if ever. Maybe he had misheard him. “What’s that you said?”
“You and me, doc. The ANTs. What in the hell are we doing?”
“Well, if you mean to ask what you were fighting for out there, I suppose it’s a new sort of freedom.”
“Freedom?” the soldier asked. “From what exactly? Seems to me like we’re just moving from one set of controls to another. That ain’t the freedom I thought this was supposed to be.”
Dr. Raj was surprised at the observation. This was not the way the Omega XT were built. Questions were not part of their design. He tried to deflect the comment and reassure the soldier.
“Listen, soldier, you’ve had a long day. And you very well may have a concussion to go along with that gash. Try not thinking about the battle for a little while.”
“That’s the thing, doc. I’ve had all damn day to think about it, and I still can’t figure it out. We put a death sentence on the people of this planet, and most of ‘em were innocent. And when you take away all of Sebastian’s bullshit, I can’t understand why we did it.”
“Now settle down,” Dr. Raj said sternly. “You’re starting to say things you may regret. Take my advice: go home, go to sleep, don’t think about the battle. Yes, things have gotten complicated. But the reasons why haven’t changed.”
The soldier stood from the table where he had been sitting. “Maybe they haven’t for you, doc. But I bet they will.”
He left the room and Dr. Raj in it, alone. The doctor sat, his legs so weary that standing had become a chore. His head hurt, his body ached. And he didn’t fully realize it then, but the soldier had planted a seed of doubt in his head that would grow over the next few weeks. And once it had bloomed, the doctor set out to find him.
ΔΔΔ
Dr. Raj was a stickler for organization. He always had been. Everyone who had ever worked under him, including the ANTs in the Sector 3 hospital, had joked behind his back about his obsessiveness. Paperwork, charts, and files were meticulously kept on each patient he or one of his doctors saw. So finding the soldier with the gash in his head from four weeks earlier was easy.
The doctor looked through the soldier’s file, learning as much as he could from the limited information. His name was John Archer, and he lived in the hotel barracks with the other Omega XT soldiers stationed in Sector 3. The file contained his room number at the hotel but no other contact information. Dr. Raj would have to visit him in person, among the other soldiers. It would be tricky, but he didn’t dare risk sending anyone else. One thing that the doctor knew about Salvador was his paranoia – he had eyes and ears everywhere.
The Omega XT barracks were on the southern edge of the grid, in a basic hotel that had once served thrifty business travelers in search of a hot shower and free breakfast before the Great Dark. Most of its rooms contained two double beds and not much else. Soldiers were assigned one bunkmate each. John Archer’s room was on the seventh floor.
As Dr. Raj neared the hotel, he saw four Omega XT soldiers guarding the building’s doors. He approached them with confidence, despite the intimidation he was feeling. “Good day, men,” he said when he reached them. “I need to come inside, please.”
“No one comes inside the barracks without prior approval,” one of the soldiers said. “I haven’t been told of any visitors today.”
“Dammit,” Dr. Raj said under his breath. He tried to put a confused look on his fa
ce. “They didn’t contact you?”
“Who?” the soldier asked.
“Ok, listen – I’m Dr. Khurana. I’ve got some urgent information that I need to discuss with one of your men. I came directly from the hospital to talk with him, and my people there have obviously forgotten to contact you in our haste. It’s imperative that I see him now.”
“That’s not how we operate, doctor.”
“Well, consider this a change in operation, soldier. This is a man’s health we’re talking about here.”
The soldier was silent for a few seconds while he thought. Finally he said, “You’ll have to be escorted. Two of my men will go with you. Which room and which soldier?”
“Archer is his name. Room 707.”
The Omega XT looked at his log of soldiers’ names and room numbers to verify the doctor’s request. He nodded to the other soldiers. Then, to Dr. Raj, “You’ve got five minutes.”
Dr. Raj followed the two soldiers to the elevator and rode up with them to the seventh floor. When they got to Room 707, one of the soldiers knocked loudly on the door. “Archer,” he yelled. “Up and at ‘em.”
The door opened, and John Archer appeared wearing only his underwear and a sleepy look on his face. “Yeah, what is it?” he said.