“Yes,” Fayette responded. “We know Olga Booker’s mother quite well.”
“Andrea was severely injured, but she will recover completely. Nanda says she won’t even have any scars.”
“Nonsense,” Harmony blurted. “We both had appendectomies when we were young. We still have the scars.”
“Laura and her girls used new medical techniques. No scars.”
“No way,” Fayette said flatly.
Harmony shook her head. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
The conversation provided Rhona an approach leading up to introducing the medicine. “Did you hear that I had been injured a few weeks ago?”
“Andrea told us,” Fayette said. “Someone shot you in the side.”
“Right,” Rhona said. She decided a blunt approach would be the best tactic. She stood and pulled her blouse out of her pants, exposing her midsection. “Where did I get shot?”
Both old women leaned forward with slightly ghoulish looks. Rhona pivoted slowly so the women could see the front and sides of her trim smooth waist.
“I don’t see a scar,” Fayette said in a disappointed tone.
Rhona dropped her blouse and tucked it in. “I healed without leaving a scar.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Harmony demanded.
Judith had been sipping her tea. She set the cup on the saucer and joined the conversation. “I’ve been taking some of the same medicine that Rhona took. My strength and energy have improved greatly. Also, as you said, I look younger than I used to.”
Fayette mimicked her sister. “Why are you telling us this?”
“We’d like for you to take the same medicine. It should have the same effect on you.”
The old women glanced at each other and then glared at the visitors. “Medicine costs a lot,” Fayette announced. “Our blood pressure medicine is insanely expensive.”
Harmony nodded. “Very expensive.”
Judith set her bag on the table. “You can have the initial treatment free of charge.”
“What comes later?” Fayette demanded.
“You take dietary supplements. Think of them as vitamins. They aren’t much more expensive than vitamins.”
“Are they addictive?” Harmony asked.
Fayette nodded. “We’ve seen terrible TV shows on addictions.”
Harmony gestured at the bag. “Does David Coffey know about this?”
“Yes,” Rhona replied with a smile. “Both he and Renee are taking the treatments.”
Fayette turned towards her sister. “I told you there was something different about them when we saw them at the store.”
“It was cold and windy. They were wearing stocking caps,” Harmony responded.
Rhona suppressed a smile as she recognized a point of contention between the two women. “David and Renee both just started working for Mother and Father.” Rhona poked the bag with one finger. “Their company is making and selling this treatment. They’ll start selling to the public in two months.”
“We hadn’t heard that David quit his job.” Harmony sounded disappointed.
Fayette spread out both hands. Both bones and blue blood vessels showed under her papery-looking skin. “This new embassy thing has the whole county in an uproar.”
“If you take those treatments and supplements you will be around to see how it turns out,” Judith said.
“They make you live longer?”
“Yes,” Rhona added. “Nanda says you should live to about four times your current age and you will be in good health until the end.”
The old women went silent, and they both sat stock-still studying the backs of their hands. It was so quiet Rhona could hear the old windup clock perched on a bookcase clicking away the seconds.
Finally, Fayette and Harmony shifted at almost the same time and exchanged glances. Harmony shrugged. “You know what the doctor down in Dodge City just told us.”
“Do we want to trust aliens?”
“They’re people. We’ve known them all of our lives,” Harmony responded in an acerbic tone.
Fayette stroked her wrinkled cheek. “David and Renee must trust them.”
“We don’t have much choice,” Harmony responded as she shifted to face Rhona. “I’ll die before I let anyone put me in a nursing home.”
Fayette nodded faced Rhona. “Me, too. We accept. What do we do?”
“Mother can show you what to do,” Rhona said. “But first, I want to invite you to my wedding. I’m marrying Keene.”
“We heard about the wedding from Andrea,” Harmony said. “We’d be delighted to come.”
“We’ve never been married,” Fayette added.
Judith opened the bag and extracted two small metal boxes. She handed one to each of the old women. “That could change after you take this medicine.”
“What?” Fayette’s thin white eyebrows contracted as she challenged Judith. “What could change?”
“You’ll have the option of considering marriage again,” Judith said with a satisfied-looking smile. “Charles and I have really been enjoying our renewed energy–in a lot of ways.”
Chapter 30 – Nursing Home Visit
Two mornings later, Rhona looked at her mother across the crowded breakfast table. Part of her intern work at dental school had been with nursing home patients and those days didn’t hold any fond memories. “Laura says I can go with you today.”
Judith chuckled. “You sound like a stick-in-the-mud. Was the shopping trip yesterday more fun?”
A smile blossomed on Rhona’s face. “Yes. It was also my first day off since getting here. This sounds like work.”
“It is work,” Nanda interjected. “But, it’s also about healing people.”
“Where is this nursing home?”
“About 200 miles northwest of Idaho Falls, Idaho. The town is called Salmon.”
“That’s a mountainous region,” Rhona replied while her mind drifted from the nursing home to more interesting activities. “I once did a weekend hike in the Bitterroot Mountains.”
“Why did you choose to hold clinical trials there?” Rhona glanced around the table before focusing on Nanda.
“It’s a rural town in the mountains,” Nanda replied. “Also, a high fraction of the population is over age 65.”
“Young people move away…”
“And old people remain. Twelve of them live in a nursing home near the county airport.”
“Near the airport is a polite way of saying it,” Judith said. “The building is located on Cemetery Lane.”
“Hold the bad puns,” Rhona requested as she raised both hands. “How are we getting there?”
Nanda spoke quickly, “I’ll fly one of the cargo shuttles and land it at Salmon Airport. We’ll take a pilentum along for local transport. We could make the trip in a couple of chariots, but the transit time is a lot shorter with the shuttle.”
“Plus, we won’t be cooped up in one seat,” Judith added.
“We leave in three hours,” Nanda said when she rose to her feet. “Take a coat and gloves along. The average high temperature in February is 37 °F and the average low is 15.”
Rhona stood and picked up her tray. “Will there be snow?”
“Not today. I checked the weather forecast before breakfast.”
The flight gave Rhona an opportunity to verify some of her nightly studies. Piloting was easy, because, like all Abantu vehicles, the onboard AI actually flew the shuttle. Understanding how the engine and controls worked, and the resulting performance envelope, was much more taxing.
They rose nearly vertical to an altitude of sixty miles at high subsonic speeds. Nanda then boosted the speed to Mach 12. Their descent into the airport at Salmon mimicked their climb out of Jetmore. Rhona listened to Nanda talk to the tower as they neared the ground. They had b
een airborne less than thirty minutes.
Rhona waited for a break in Nanda’s conversation. “I’ll go on back with Mother,” she said.
“Be there shortly.”
Rhona and Judith were leaning against the pilentum when Nanda entered the cargo compartment with a sour look on her face. “What’s wrong?” Judith asked.
“That young whippersnapper in the tower tried to read me the riot act for not sticking to his glide slope.”
Rhona smiled. “Hasn’t he ever seen a helicopter land?”
“Probably.” A hint of a grin moved across Nanda’s face. “But, helicopters don’t make 500 mph vertical descents.”
“Cut him some slack. He’s undereducated.”
A familiar muscle twitch demanding physical action raced up and down Rhona’s calves when she stepped out of the shuttle. She turned in a circle while she buttoned her coat. Snow covered mountains lined the valley on every side except to the south.
“It’s colder than Ohio,” Judith commented as she donned her gloves. The coat and gloves were actually part of their camouflage. Their protective suits could keep them warm anywhere on Earth without additional clothing.
Rhona and Judith stood to one side on the pavement while the pilentum emerged from the shuttle with Nanda driving. Judith set a large leather briefcase on the seat next to her as she climbed into the rear. Rhona slid into the open front seat.
Nanda headed towards the airport exit without stopping at the airport office. “It’s about a mile to the nursing home,” she said.
“How did you learn about this place?” Judith asked.
The Abantu chuckled. “Hurit worked in a restaurant here for five years about a decade ago. One of her regular customers ended up in the nursing home.”
The mountains faded from Rhona’s mind while she stared out the window. She had never really known her grandparents. Those on her father’s side had died in a car crash when she was four. Her other grandfather was one of the casualties on the Japanese front in World War II. The remaining grandmother had lived in Oregon and visited Ohio every couple of years. She had lived in a nursing home for about six months after suffering a severe stroke and she died when Rhona was ten. Rhona glanced at Nanda. “Your culture doesn’t have nursing homes.”
Nanda looked like she had just bit into a bitter lemon. “I don’t like them, but my hands were tied.”
“Rules of engagement.”
“That’s changed. We’re here to see if we can retire the practice.”
“Is that it?” Judith asked as she pointed along the road.
“That’s right,” Nanda said when the pilentum slowed and turned into the parking lot of the one-story building. Large spruce trees lined the gravel lot, forming a visual contrast with several leafless birch and maple trees spaced around the faded structure. Five other vehicles sat in the lot designed for a dozen cars.
The wind had died down and gravel crunched under their feet when the women exited the pilentum. It was so quiet Rhona could hear the pinging noises of cooling metal in one of the other cars. She took one last breath of clean mountain air as she trailed Nanda and Judith up the wheelchair ramp to the front door.
The odors associated with poor health assaulted Rhona as soon as she stepped inside the building. For once, she was almost sorry Nanda’s treatments had enhanced her sense of smell. The pungent odor of disinfectant was the strongest, but it did little to mask other smells. A room freshener added another layer to the olfactory soup. Rhona could also distinguish sanitizers, mold, urine and even a faint hint of feces. She tried to shove those sensations aside while she followed the others to the nurses’ station near the door.
Nanda smiled at the attendant. “I’m Nanda Burks. I have an appointment with Linda Meadows.”
The tired-looking middle-aged woman gestured along the hall at the same time she set a clipboard on the counter. “Linda just arrived. I’ll let her know you’re here while you sign in.”
The faint whisper of Keene’s voice sounded in Rhona’s earpiece, breaking her contemplation of the surname Nanda had used. “Can you talk, Rhona?” he asked.
“A little,” she replied in a low voice while she turned aside. “What’s up?”
“We’ve tracked down the primary movers behind the new group PURE.”
“It must be interesting if you’re calling back so quickly,” Rhona whispered back.
“Senator Rucker and General Breneman put up the money to get the group going. Government money…”
“Ha!” Rhona consciously reduced her speech volume when her mother glanced at her. “I’m not surprised.”
“They apparently initially met when Breneman testified for a Senate committee on a classified topic.”
“I should wait to talk,” Rhona replied. “We’re signing it at the nursing home.”
“My condolences,” Keene responded. “I’ll wait for your call … unless there’s an emergency.”
Rhona touched her earpiece to terminate the call. She moved up beside her mother and dashed off her signature on the clipboard. Her writing was so sloppy she didn’t think anyone could read it.
The attendant didn’t even glance at the signatures as she rose from her stool. “I’ll take you down to Linda’s office.”
A board on the wall behind the receptionist’s desk caught Rhona’s eye. A name in large type headed each of twelve boxes. Below them were room numbers, also in large type. Smaller type captured family names and contact information.
They headed into the hall and had to wait while the attendant stepped up to a white-haired woman in a wheelchair blocking the hall and grasped the handles. “I’ll just move you to one side, Sarah,” he explained.
Sounds coming through an open door caught Rhona’s attention. Two old men in wheelchairs sat at a table with a checkerboard between them. One of the men was gesturing at the other one. His voice displayed his irritation. “Ralph, Ralph! It’s your turn.”
The man who was speaking seemed to sense someone in the hall and he twisted to look at Rhona. He jerked his thumb at the other man. “Ralph gets distracted easily. He forgets it’s his turn.”
Rhona nodded and muttered, “Oh, yes.” Some discrepancies in the scene started to register after she turned away to continue up the hall. The man named Ralph had seemed dull and lifeless. However, intelligence had shone in the faded eyes of the speaker. Not only that, his closely cropped hair was brown rather than grey or white. Was he one of the patients taking Nanda’s treatments?
They passed four patient rooms before reaching Linda’s office. Rhona saw enough human misery in the residents to wish she was back outside in clean air.
A slightly pudgy woman with grey hair standing in the office nodded at the attendant when they entered. “Thank you, Mary.” She turned her attention to the visitors when Mary left. “It’s nice to see you again, Nanda. You brought a few others along.”
Nanda took the hint and made introductions. “This is Judith Lantier and her daughter Rhona. Judith and her husband run the company that produces the experimental medicine you have been using.”
“Ah, yes. Welcome to Salmon, Idaho.” Linda gestured at several chairs. “Please sit down.”
Rhona settled down and listened while Judith responded. “We are interested in the level of improvement in the six patients you are treating with our medicine.”
Linda picked up an ink pen and rolled it back and forth between her fingertips. “I had difficulty for a time finding good information on the company you represent.”
Judith raised her eyebrows. “For a time?”
“Yes.” Linda tossed the ink pen on her desk and ignored it when it rolled off on the floor. She looked directly at Nanda. “Then I traced it back to Jetmore, Kansas.”
“That’s correct,” Judith admitted.
Linda’s face took on a stern look as she pointed at R
hona. “I saw you on TV recently!”
“That’s correct,” Rhona said, deliberately mimicking the words her mother used. “How much have your patients improved?”
Linda shook her head. “I could lose my license over this situation.”
“We didn’t promise any improvements,” Nanda said smoothly. “You did get permission from the families involved to administer experimental drugs, didn’t you?”
“I did,” Linda grated. “Experimental drugs, yes. But I didn’t get approval to administer alien drugs.”
Rhona was starting to get irritated. She leaned forward and her tone of voice grew sharp. “Do you have a check box on the approval form for alien drugs?”
Linda sat up so straight she leaned backward slightly. Her eyebrows bunched into little peaks. “No. Of course not.”
“Ladies, ladies,” Judith said in a placating tone. She looked at Linda. “Did you administer the drugs Nanda left with you?”
The persona of a stern businesswoman faded into that of a woman trying to provide adequate care for patients who would soon die. Linda’s face brightened. “We’ve been giving them on the weekly schedule. We’re due to make the sixth injections in two days.”
Judith beckoned with the fingers of her right hand. “What is the level of improvement?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Linda rose to her feet and gestured at the door. “We give maintenance medicines and try to relieve discomfort. This is different. Come with me.”
They trooped out the door behind Linda and turned the other direction down the hall from which they had come. Linda soon stopped and held up her hand before reaching for the handle of a closed door. “Before we started the treatments, Samantha was totally bedridden and her dementia had progressed to the point she didn’t recognize anyone, not even her own daughter.”
The sound of voices greeted them when Linda opened the door. A white-haired woman was sitting up in bed talking animatedly to a younger woman perched on a chair. The woman in the bed looked at the newcomers. “Hello, Linda. Who are the visitors?”
“They are drug company representatives. They made the new medicine you are taking.”
Variations on Humanity (WorldWalker Trilogy Book 3) Page 24