by E. R. Torre
“Who are you?”
“I’m the Doctor,” the old man said. “Julie hired me to—”
“Where is she?”
“Gone. She said she needed to get back to the city.”
“What did she do, walk?”
“Not in those high heels,” the Doctor said and chuckled. “She called in a helicopter and her entourage boarded up and flew off.”
“We’re the only ones left here?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Ok,” Nox muttered. She rubbed her hair. “Got some water?”
Nox recalled the events of the past few days and went over every bit of her conversation with Julie. It felt like a half-remembered dream.
Then again, you were hoped up on stimulants and about to crash.
Nox sat up and examined her body. All the small cuts and almost all the deeper ones were healed. She felt her sliced eye and, underneath the fresh bandages, it too felt almost normal.
“Easy with that, lady,” the Doctor said. He handed Nox a glass of water. Nox took it down in a couple of gulps.
“More,” she said. “Please.”
The old man shrugged, returned to the bar’s counter, and poured water into the cup from a canteen. As he did, Nox rose. The Go! pills were well out of her system and she felt energized, reborn. She was still alive, and the new day presented so many possibilities.
“You look different, better,” the old man said. He handed Nox the refilled glass.
Nox took the water down slowly.
“You’re healing up fast. Faster than anyone should.”
Nox handed the Doctor the empty cup and smiled. Her next action took the elderly man completely by surprise. Nox reached up and pulled at the bandage around her injured eye.
“What the hell are you doing?” the Doctor asked.
Nox didn’t answer. She removed the bandage. As she did, the Doctor’s face turned ashen. When the bandage was completely off, Nox felt around her shut eye. It was no longer swollen, though the skin around it was heavily bruised. Very delicately, Nox eased the eyelids apart. She grimaced as a burst of fluids, both clear and yellow, leaked out.
“Jesu,” the Doctor muttered.
“Get me a towel.”
“Like I’m about to argue with a crazy woman.”
The Doctor returned to the bar’s counter. He grabbed his medical case and hurried back to Nox’s side. From within the case, he pulled out a white hand towel. Nox pressed it against the injured eye, until the white towel was soiled with sticky red and yellow liquids. When it was completely stained, Nox threw the towel to the ground and motioned for another. The Doctor gave her one.
Nox rubbed it gently against her eye and massaged the skin. Similar stains appeared on this second towel, but not as much. When Nox was done cleaning the wound, she dropped the second towel to the ground. Both her eyes remained closed. Slowly, she opened them. As she did, the Doctor gasped. Nox’s injured eye, the destroyed eye, was revealed. It was there, intact but covered in a thin milky haze. Through the haze the Doctor saw the cornea. It moved to the right and left in perfect synchronicity with Nox’s left eye.
“How…?” the old man asked. “It was sliced open, it was drained…”
Nox peered around the bar, as if seeing it for the first time.
“It’ll take a while. Maybe one day it’ll be fine.”
“How?”
Nox faced the old man.
“Robert Octi Junior slit the eyeball but didn’t pluck it out,” she said, as if that explained everything. “Good thing he didn’t pluck it out. Growing another would be some trick.”
“But…but how could such an injury heal?”
Nox smiled but said nothing more. A dim memory coalesced in her mind. She recalled the early days of the war, just before the Army introduced their stimulant pills. There was competition for medical cure-alls, and Nox and fifty fellow Blue Brigade soldiers were transferred to a top secret research facility. The army medics didn’t say what they were doing there, but soon enough Nox found herself strapped to a gurney and given one injection after another.
The pain was unimaginable.
Only later did they tell her she was being given doses of experimental medical nano-probes, microscopic robots that flowed inside the blood stream and “fixed” whatever ailed its host.
Nox could feel each and every one of these probes barrel through her veins like a runaway train. Her inner body was on fire and the pain lasted every second of five very, very long days. When the treatment was finally over, she was still alive. Others weren’t so lucky. Three quarters of the group didn’t make it. Their hearts simply couldn’t stand the strain. Of those who were left, the very unlucky ones lived through the procedure but lost their sanity. Still others…
Nox shivered.
She faced some of the others. People not unlike her, only they no longer could tell who was friend or who was foe. Even worse, they no longer cared.
It didn’t take long for the military to scrap the nano-probe program and burn all information regarding it. Too many questions and too much loss. Nox rejoined her platoon along with the other subjects that survived.
Ironically, the nano-probes proved their worth on the battlefield. By that time there was no one around to see, or care, about the positive results. No one save the subjects of the experiments themselves. The microscopic robots were supposed to heal any number of injuries, from a simple scratch to a sucking wound, but in reality they ignored the little stuff and reacted to the most severe injuries.
Like radiation poisoning.
Nox wondered why the probes were still active in her body. Those prototypes, she recalled overhearing a couple of scientists say, had a very limited lifespan. They were expected to survive in their host body a year. Two at the most. At that point, the subject’s immune system was expected to overwhelm and devour them. But today, twenty plus years later, some of them were still lurking inside Nox’s body.
She was very thankful for that fact.
Though she might never fully recover perfect sight in her injured eye, she could see through the haze and, given the circumstances, some sight was better than none at all. And Nox was eager to see the desert outside. She was even more eager to see the Big City once again.
But she was most eager to stare into the eyes of Robert Octi Junior.
Sunlight flickered and faded before her.
The Doctor warmed some rations and offered a serving to Nox. The Mechanic stood by the bar’s counter, her head low.
“You should be in bed,” the Doctor said.
“I’ll be fine.”
“You want some food?”
“Thanks.”
Nox’s injured eye was very teary and it was difficult to adjust to the sunlight, dim though it was in the early evening. Perhaps, Nox thought, she would need to use a patch. Like Ellis had.
Ellis.
Nox took the rations and shoveled them down. When she was done, she noted a sparkling new leather briefcase lying beside the Doctor’s weathered medical bag and pointed to it.
“What’s that?”
“Julie left it behind. She told me to give it to you when you were feeling better.”
Nox set aside the empty ration packet and approached the briefcase. She opened it and stared at the contents. Behind her, the Doctor let out a low whistle. The case was filled with credit bills. Two hundred and fifty thousand of them, if Julie came through.
“You hit the lottery or something?” the Doctor said.
“Something,” Nox replied.
She ignored the money and opened a side compartment. Within it she found a sealed envelope. She opened and unfolded the document within. It was an official Octi Corp. insurance statement directed to Natalie Howard and filed with the Hall of Records in the Big City. The document stated that Octi Corporation regretted the loss of their employee Ellis Howard and noted his body would be delivered to his hometown for a Corporation sponsored burial. A two hundred and fifty thousand dollar check, the amount o
f his life insurance, was issued in the care of his sole heir, his daughter Natalie.
“Good,” Nox muttered. The public proclamation’s seal was genuine. The document had indeed been filed in the Hall of Records. Any attempt by Octi Corporation to swindle Natalie or void this public proclamation would have serious ramifications. In the end, it would be in Octi Corp.’s interests to stick to the agreement and count the lost money as a write off.
Which meant Natalie and Ellis were taken care of.
A satisfied smile filled Nox’s face. She put the paper away and closed the case. She held on to it and walked to the bar’s entrance. The door swung open and she looked out. Parked beside the warehouse was the Octi truck she drove to the base. Her mangled chopper remained tied to the truck’s rear.
“You’re leaving?”
“It’s time,” Nox said. She faced the Doctor. “What about you?”
“They –hell, I– thought it would take you a lot longer to recover. I told them to come for me at the end of next week.”
“Did they leave you a radio so you could call them back, tell them to come early?”
“They were in a rush to go and said they didn’t carry a spare. No big deal, they said to sit tight, to expect them by the weekend at the earliest or the beginning of the week at the latest.”
“How many rations did they leave?”
“Enough for a week or so.”
“How many, exactly?”
The Doctor counted the remaining rations. “Eight days worth. Plenty. They’ll be back way before I’m out.”
“We’re fifty some odd miles from the nearest rest stop,” Nox said, recalling the location of Ellis’ gas station. “Could you walk that distance, even with those rations?”
The Doctor let out a chuckle.
“In this heat? Are you crazy? There’s no way.”
“Exactly.”
The Doctor’s smile abruptly disappeared.
“Did they leave you anything else? A vehicle?”
“No.”
Nox nodded.
“You’ve been abandoned.”
“No.”
“I’m afraid so.”
The Doctor scratched his head and frowned.
“What exactly are you talking about?”
“I know these people only too well, Doctor, and they’re a cold bunch. Their world revolves around profits and loss. They figured I’d drive off in my truck when I was better and not think twice about you. You’d stay behind, not too terribly concerned because they promised you they’d come back. A day would pass, another, and after a while your rations would be low and soon after that they’d be gone. By the time you realized they weren’t coming back, there’s nothing for you to do but wait for the sands to swallow you up.”
The Doctor shook his head.
“It isn’t true,” he said. “Octi values their employees. They wouldn’t—”
“Profit and loss, Doctor. It isn’t worth the expense in fuel and personnel to come back for you.”
“It…it can’t be.”
“Believe what you will. You can come with me and live, or wait here for them and die. It’s up to you.”
Nox exited the bar and walked to the Octi truck. She made a quick check of the truck’s engine and underside, to make sure the rig was fueled and ready for the long trip back to the Big City. While searching, she found a freshly planted tracking device. Julie wanted to know where she was.
Fine.
Nox ignored the device and checked her mangled chopper to make sure it was still properly tied down. She found another tracking probe hidden within the motorcycle’s engine. Nox removed it. She walked to the warehouse entrance and was about to toss it inside when she spotted the remains of Donovan’s robot lying in the shadows. She stared at the robot for several long seconds.
“You started all this,” Nox said. She approached the destroyed machine.
Lying inert in the sand, it looked like an overgrown child’s toy, busted up, discarded, and now forgotten. The Mechanic planted the tracking device on the robot’s remains.
“You’ve finally become useful,” Nox said.
Let Julie think I left the chopper behind.
When Nox returned to the truck and climbed into its cabin, she found the Doctor buckled up and waiting in the passenger seat.
“Fuck them,” the Doctor spat. “Fuck them all.”
Nox nodded. She found the truck’s key in the ignition and turned it.
The engine roared to life.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Nox drove the entire night and most of the next day. When the sun once again set, she spotted the first rays from the distant lights of the Big City. The truck rumbled across the city limits an hour later and the elderly Doctor missed their arrival. He snored softly in the passenger seat and awoke moments later to find the darkness of the desert’s night replaced by intense neon lights.
“Welcome home,” the Doctor said and yawned.
“Likewise.”
The Doctor popped open an energy drink and guzzled it down.
“Been a while since last I was here,” the Doctor said. “Place has changed some. Not for the better.”
“You have someplace to go?” Nox asked.
The Doctor shrugged.
“Even when I was here, I never put down any roots. Got all my roots in the Desertland camps. Here? I don’t know where to begin.” The Doctor said nothing for a few seconds. “I really thought they appreciated my services, you know?”
“Forget about Octi. Focus on the future.”
“Yeah. Say, is there a hospital nearby? That’s probably the best place to start.”
Nox pointed the truck down a large street and drove several blocks before pulling into an oversized parking lot. On the other side of the street was an enormous building shaped like a grounded oil freighter.
“TransCo Oil’s Hospital,” Nox said. “Largest one in the city.”
The Doctor stared at the structure. He was an old man weary and nervous about starting a new life in a new place. He was more than a little overwhelmed.
“A person could disappear in a place like this.”
“At this point I’d recommend it,” Nox said. “Best to let Octi Corp. think you’re still back there at the base.”
The words made the Doctor scowl.
“Rotten bastards.”
He offered Nox his hand.
“Thanks, Nox.”
Nox shook the Doctor’s hand.
“Best you don’t mention me to anyone, either.”
“Yeah, like anyone would believe I treated a woman who could heal her own ruptured eyeball. You gonna finally tell me how you accomplished that particular trick?”
Nox smiled and released the Doctor’s hand.
“Didn’t think so,” the Doctor said and matched Nox’s smile with one of his own. He opened the truck’s passenger door and exited the vehicle. Once out, the Doctor stretched.
“Hey, old timer,” Nox said before flinging a rectangular package at the elderly man. He caught it and looked it over.
“What’s this?” the Doctor asked. He was startled to find a thick wad of credit bills in his hands. It was more than enough to pay for several years of living in the Big City.
“Payment for services rendered.”
“I can’t take this.”
“Of course you can. Thanks for everything.”
The Doctor nodded.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” the Doctor replied. The smile returned to his face. Whatever unease or fear he felt was gone. He waved to Nox as he crossed the street and headed for the hospital.
When the Doctor was gone, Nox shifted the truck in gear. Julie was tracking the truck’s movements, of course, and had to know the Mechanic was back in the Big City. Like the Doctor, Julie probably thought Nox would take longer to recover and arrive later in the week. Hopefully, her premature arrival messed up whatever plans Julie had in place for her.
Nox drove the truck to
the opposite end of the hospital and parked inside a large parking zone.
She unloaded her chopper and dragged it into the motorcycle parking area. No one would notice it there, at least not for the remainder of this night. Plenty of time.
Nox then walked to the main entrance of the hospital. Beside it was a pharmacy. Nox entered the store and picked up a bottle of aspirin, an anesthetic, Go! pills, and gauze. Beside the counter she found a rack of sunglasses. She picked one and noisily dropped all the items she collected onto the counter. The crashing sounds awoke the young cashier. She eyed Nox’s stash before examining the Mechanic’s bruised face.
“Emergency room’s through the main doors, friend.”
Nox stared at her through angry eyes, until she was certain the cashier was good and uncomfortable with her presence. All the better to remember her visit, should anyone ask.
“If I wanted the emergency room, I would have gone there,” Nox finally replied. Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. “Are you gonna sell me this shit or what?”
The lady shook her head. Rudeness was all too common in the Big City, and the teller was nothing if not a Big City gal.
“Fuck you too,” she cheerfully replied. She rang up Nox’s items and took her money. When she handed the Mechanic her change, she added: “And have a nice fucking night, asshole.”
“Thank you,” Nox responded. The edge in her voice was gone, as if it never existed. She pocketed the change. When her hand emerged from the jacket, it carried another wad of bills. She handed these to the lady behind the counter.
“What’s this?”
“A tip,” Nox said.
“Tip?”
“Take it.”
“I don’t know what you think I am, but—”
“Please. I let my temper get the better of me. Have a good night.”
Nox put the sunglasses on and grabbed her paper bag. If all went well, this side trip to the Pharmacy would create enough confusion to hide the fact that she brought the Doctor in from the desert.
When Julie checked up on Nox’s path back into the Big City, she would find the Mechanic stopped at this Hospital’s pharmacy and used up some of the undoubtedly marked bills given to her to pay for these drugs. Any other monies used by the Doctor in this area would, hopefully, be attributed to Nox as well.