Karter inclined his head to the man and turned from the console to Iza. He must have seen the worry in her eyes because he put both hands on her upper arms and stared down at her.
“We don’t know yet what happened. Relax. If you start crying on me, I’m going to drag you back to the shuttle.”
It was enough to snap her back to the moment and out of the worst-case scenarios running through her mind. Iza’s eyes cleared before they narrowed into slits. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Satisfied she was in control of her emotions again, he released her arms and turned away mumbling. “I might.”
Iza led them north on a street called Nicollet Mall Avenue, as the map showed the library in that direction. The people in the city came in all shapes and sizes and colors. Some of their clothing styles were bizarre, and she and Karter found themselves pointing out the most absurd of them. It wasn’t anything stranger than she’d seen on Taran worlds, but the fact that it was something on Earth made it more entertaining.
To her surprise, there were several dirty and ragged-looking individuals shuffling along the street, carrying sleeping bags or pushing carts. When one such man came up to her with his hand out in the universal sign for begging, she shook her head.
“Sorry, I haven’t got any credits on me,” she replied in New Taran before remembering that it was a foreign language to the locals. “Bomaxed rogue worlds and their lack of a standardized language,” she muttered to herself as she got her local phone out to use for translation.
“We really do take New Taran’s ubiquitousness for granted,” Karter agreed.
Once the translator was running, Iza repeated her response. “Sorry, I’m not from here. I don’t have any credits on me.”
“Oh, I’m not asking for your credit card, lady,” said the man, holding up his hands. The translator showed a text transcript of his reply in near real-time. “I was just seeing if you had any spare change. Maybe your fancy friend, here, has a few cents he can spare?” He looked over Karter from head to toe.
Karter ignored the man and walked off.
“Guess not,” the man said, giving Iza a wink. She laughed. If she had some physical currency, she would’ve given the man some just for being so entertaining.
Iza started to turn away. Then, she remembered the food bar in her pocket. “Hey, are you hungry?”
“Am I living on the streets?” He snickered.
Iza tossed him the wrapped bar. He looked at it suspiciously. That’s when she realized her mistake; the bar was like nothing they had on Earth, but maybe he wouldn’t notice.
“Yeah, not from around here, you said?” His eyes narrowed as he studied her, looking her over as intently as he was studying the wrapper.
That’s the understatement of the year. “Nope.” She waved him farewell.
“Guess Bob was right,” he muttered as he walked away.
“Really smooth, Iza,” Karter said with a smirk on his lips as they walked away. “No Tarans here. Nothing to see!”
The Minneapolis Central Library building was the most progressive architecture they’d seen so far. They proceeded to the information desk where a woman stood helping an older lady.
“Let me do the talking,” Karter said, putting a hand in front of Iza with his translator open on the screen of his phone.
Iza stared at the hand and then up at Karter with some significance.
“Can I help you?” asked the woman standing behind the desk when her previous patron departed.
“Hello, we’re new here,” Karter began, with the phone translating for him. “We require a computer to do some research.”
The woman had her hair divided into two braids and wore bright red glasses. It was as if she was trying to draw attention to the fact that she couldn’t see. Iza found it somewhat disturbing.
She looked them up and down. Karter was immaculately dressed and Iza was dressed in less formal attire, but there was nothing about their appearance that didn’t blend in with the community around them. The woman gazed at Iza’s boots a little bit longer than she would’ve liked.
“Sure, I can help you with that,” she said at last. “I’m just going to need a little bit of information from you first in order to get you set up with a library card. Can I get your current identification showing your address in Minneapolis or one of the surrounding cities?”
Karter glanced at Iza and she stared blankly back at him. They didn’t have anything of the sort.
“I’m sorry, we’ve been recently robbed, and they took our ID. And our foreign phones don’t have a connection to the Net, which is why we need a computer here,” Iza jumped in.
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. Sure, let me set you up with a computer so you can get on the internet and get everything sorted out. You’ll only have an hour to use the equipment on a guest pass. I’d be happy to make a call to the authorities for you to report the robbery,” said the young woman.
“No, that’s okay, thank you,” Iza replied. “We’ve already contacted the authorities about our situation. The computer is all we need now. An hour should be fine. We appreciate your help.”
The woman behind the counter pulled out a slim piece of paper and wrote an alphanumeric code on it below the word ‘visitor’. She handed it to Iza and directed them toward the row of computers for public use.
“Are you sure about this?” Karter asked. He seemed concerned that they were going to be conducting their search in the middle of public space.
“We don’t have much of a choice, aside from contacting the Verity—and I’m not desperate enough yet to take the risk.” She sat down at one of the open terminals and pointed to the chair next to her. “Grab a seat. We need to work fast.”
The interface seemed strange to her. It didn’t help that everything was in a foreign language. She had to hold up the phone to look at the translated text on her screen. Even then, she didn’t know how to do what she wanted. Where’s Braedon when I need him?
“I have no idea what to do with this,” she admitted after staring at the various icons. The translation didn’t help. “This is like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” She leaned into the computer display and spoke, “CACI, I need to run a records search.”
The screen didn’t move and there was no response. The text box in the middle of the screen with a blinking line taunted her as if daring her to figure it out.
“They won’t have CACI here,” Karter said.
A man about Iza’s age with blue spiked hair and black eyeliner came in and sat down a couple of terminals away. He quickly signed in and began navigating the interface.
Karter shook his head at Iza, indicating she shouldn’t talk to him, but they were stuck. Without some help, they would never find Joe. She scooted closer to the young boy and spoke into her phone for translation.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but could you help us?” Iza asked, hoping the use of a translator would make their need understandable. “We’re not from here, and we’re trying to find the local news. Can you help us understand this interface?”
He looked around as if surprised she were talking to him and then shrugged.
“It’s not that hard.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off his screen.
“Can you show me, please?” she asked holding out the slip of paper the woman had given her.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Iza stood up from the chair, bumping into Karter as she made room for the young man.
With expert hands, he clicked on an icon and navigated to a dialogue box. “Which local news outlet and how far back?”
“One that covers events in the area of downtown Minneapolis within the last day or two,” she said.
“Really?” He stared at her like he didn’t believe it.
“Yes, why?”
“No reason,” he shrugged. “I was expecting something more complicated, I guess. Is there a particular story you’re looking for?”
Karter leaned forward placing one palm flat
down on the table. “A shooting at the IDS building.” His translator keeping up with his words.
“Oh, the shooting yesterday?” He brought up a news article. His eyes widened and he cracked an amused smile as he read it over. “Yeah, I saw this on the news! Some guy was in there yelling about aliens, of all things. Shot up the place. One of the guards was hit, but they haven’t released his name.”
“Hit with what?” Iza asked.
He turned to stare at her with some confusion. “A bullet. You know, shot. Like from a gun,” he said, holding out his hand thumb up with a finger pointed at her chest.
Iza slapped his hand away, feeling foolish for not understanding the translation, but liking even less that he seemed to be making fun of her. The young man frowned as he pulled his hand back into his chest. Karter gave her quick shake of his head, to which she lifted one shoulder in quiet assent.
“We need to know where they took him after the shooting,” Iza said.
The blue-haired man nodded his head as he used the manual interface pressing on the keys without looking down. Then he started reading off the screen. “The Minneapolis Star and Tribune reported that after the security guard was shot yesterday, they took him to HCMC.”
Iza eyes darted to Karter but he kept his features neutral.
“What is an HCMC?” Iza asked.
The young man looked from Iza to Karter and then shook his head. “It’s Hennepin County Medical Center––a hospital.”
“Is it a secured facility?”
“As secured as this place.”
Iza looked from him to Karter. They’d barely made it to a computer without the required identification.
The young man continued as if they’d been waiting for him to explain. “You just check-in at the front desk.”
“How far is it from here?” Karter asked.
“A couple of blocks west of here.” He pointed vaguely toward the door and then returned to his computer, leaving them to decide what to do on their own.
“Thank you for your help,” Iza told him, but he had already put in earbuds.
She turned away from the row of terminals and walked out with Karter on her heels.
“It might not be him,” Karter said in New Taran. The words almost comforting in their matter-of-fact delivery.
“I know, but since it’s the only lead we have, we need to be sure.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Iza and Karter hurried the two blocks east to the hospital and raced into the lobby. Now that they had more pertinent details about the shooting, it couldn’t be too hard to track Joe down. Since the shooting was the day before, it would make sense that he wasn’t home, since he would likely still be in the hospital convalescing.
The hospital emergency room was a flurry of activity. It seemed there were people constantly coming and going, but there was a quiet area near the reception desk. It was as good a place as any to start.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for someone who might’ve come in recently,” Iza said using the translator.
The man gave them an odd look at the use of the translation device, then returned his attention to his computer screen. “Name?”
“Joe Anderson,” she said.
“Sorry, we don’t have a patient by that name here.”
Karter leaned forward over the desk. “Perhaps he’s using a different name to protect his identity. He was involved in the shooting at the IDS,” he said.
The man looked at him with some question and skepticism. “I can confirm that a security guard who was hit in the incident was admitted here yesterday.”
“Is he still here?” Iza asked.
“We’re not at liberty to give you that information.”
“He’s a good friend of ours. We need to see him,” Iza said. “Please can you help us?”
“Only family is allowed at the moment. I suggest you reach out to his relatives to get an update on his status.” Assuming that the conversation was over, he turned away from them and looked over their shoulder toward the next person in the queue. “How can I help you?”
Iza and Karter were brushed aside as the next family visiting someone in the hospital approached the desk. They gave their names and their identification forms and were admitted in.
Now what? Iza was beside herself. They were so close to finding Joe, and they were steps away from having the access they needed.
Karter jerked his head to one side, indicating they should step away from the desk.
“What?” Iza asked.
“I have an idea.”
“Does your idea involve sneaking in on our own?”
Karter nodded.
“Then I would say it’s the best idea we’ve had all day. Let’s have it,” Iza said.
“See those doors over there?” Karter asked. Iza looked over his shoulder toward the doors. The family that had been admitted just after them were going through them. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s guarding them, does it?”
Her eyes darted around the waiting area. There wasn’t a sentry in sight. In fact, there wasn’t any hospital staff other than the man at the desk. “It looks like he’s buzzing them in with the button on his side,” Iza said.
“That means we need to get him away from the desk, and then get someone to push the button to let us in.” Karter raised his eyebrows.
“I guess you’re indicating that it should be me,” Iza said, rolling her eyes. “Of course you are. I have to do everything.”
That’s when she caught sight of the kid—the one that belonged to the family who’d gone through the door. They’d accidentally let the door close between them and would have to re-open it to let him in.
“Come on,” Iza said through her teeth, rushing toward the doors. As if on cue, they pushed opened the door and the child ran in after his mother. Karter caught it from closing, opening it just wide enough for him and Iza to slip in behind.
“It looks like they’ve got a monitoring system here,” Karter observed, pointing to the black sphere in the corner above the door. “We need to hurry.”
“We don’t even know where we’re going,” Iza said.
They raced along the hall. When they encountered a sign overheard, Karter stopped and pointed his phone translator up at it. “It says ‘Emergency’ is that way. That’s where I’d look for someone who’s recently been shot.”
“Good point,” Iza warned.
When they arrived at the emergency room, it was more chaotic than anywhere else they’d been on Earth. People were being rushed through the doors and into rooms, while the staff seemed more concerned with their patients than anyone walking through. In fact, there was no one to even ask the question.
“How we can find anyone in all this mess?” Iza asked.
“Darling, have a little faith. We just need to be persistent,” Karter said.
“Call me darling again, and it will be literally the last thing you ever say,” Iza shot back.
Karter snickered as he led her toward a room that had been recently abandoned. There was a sweater with an identification sticker still on it. He removed it and put it over her jacket. Then, he scooped around for another, and found a trashcan, which seemed to be full of them. He unrolled one and carefully smoothed it out before putting it over his left breast pocket.
“There, now we won’t stand out so much.”
Iza stared at the crumpled sticker on his chest and then to Karter and back again. “Oh no, Mrs. Myrtle. No one would ever think you didn’t belong,” Iza said with some sarcasm, covering her laughter with the back of her hand.
Karter said. “Come on, it doesn’t look like he’s here.”
“Now what?”
“I guess we better ask someone,” Karter said. He looked around again and found a harried nurse standing at one of the stations.
He spoke into his phone for translation. “Please Miss, can you help us? We seem to have lost our family member. He was the victim in the shooting at the IDS yesterday. Can you direct me to wh
ere he is?”
“Oh, Charles Jones? Yes, I remember him. Let me see where he got moved.” She said racing to a terminal typing in the information. “You can find him on the fourth floor. Room… 4102.”
“Thank you so much.” Karter gave the woman a slight bow and then turned to leave.
“Hey, wait!” The woman called after them, causing Iza’s blood pressure to spike. “You’re going the wrong way.” She pointed in the opposite direction toward the doors. “You’ll have to take the elevators. That’s the only way to get up there.”
“Sorry, it’s our first time here. Thank you again,” Iza said, keeping the translator open in case they encountered any other questions.
“Charles Jones?” Karter said with a raised eyebrow as soon as they were beyond the nurse’s earshot.
“Even if it’s not Joe, maybe he knows him.”
They made it to the elevators without incident. When the elevator arrived at the fourth floor, Iza approached the nurse sitting behind what looked like a reception desk.
“Hello, I’m a relative of Charles Jones. May I see him?”
The woman barely glanced up from her paperwork. “He’s there down the hall, last door on the right,” she said.
Iza exchanged a surprise glance with Karter. That was easy.
They walked together down the hall to the end of the corridor. There were voices coming from the room, and Iza was about to step into the doorway when a woman stepped out.
“Oh, hello. Sorry I didn’t see you there. Can I help you with something?” The woman looked her up and down curiously, wondering what she could be there for.
Iza had prepared for this, though it might be a tough tell with her speaking a foreign language into a translator. “I am a friend. I’m here to see Charles Jones.”
The woman looked her over again and stared at Karter for second before turning her attention back to Iza. “A ‘friend’, huh? All right, I’ll let him know you’re here.” The woman said turning about and returning to the room. “Charlie, this woman says she knows you.”
On the Run (Verity Chronicles Book 3): A Cadicle Space Opera Adventure Page 12