Chapter 3
Illness begotten by Illness
/ooOOOoo\
Substitute mayor Aaron Golg was an impatient man. The times were few nowadays that he even found himself with nothing requiring his immediate attention. This was one of those times and the chord binding his mind to sanity was looking particularly thin as he tried to wear a trench in the office floor from ceaseless pacing.
Golg was the typical gray color of your average brain cell, and possessed a wiry frame; spry despite his advancing age. He had been transferred to this body during Linda's mother's pregnancy in an unfortunate lapse of good judgment. Golg's usually dapper suit was rumpled and his facial hair was graying prematurely from living in a body that, despite sympathy, he had wished he'd never moved to. It seemed as if he'd been put into this position only to watch as the city fell apart.
It was unusual for the body of a female to be run by a male mayor, though as of now he was not officially mayor. After the untimely demise of both the previous leader and her replacement, it had fallen to Golg to assume the important role. The general populace had unanimously decided to postpone the petty voting process for a time when all their lives did not hang in the balance.
Golg was jolted out of his musings when a faint beep sounded from a pager on his desk. He literally flung himself at the "accept" button. "Are they back!" he practically shouted into the small microphone. The second of silence felt almost tangible to the high-strung man.
A tinny voice answered across the line. "Yes, sir. They have just arrived and should be able to give a full report at your office within a few minutes."
"Thank you, Irene." With another beep the communication line was severed.
Suppressing his desire to simply run out the door and meet them halfway, Golg attempted to calm his frayed nerves and leaned back in his swivel chair.
/ooo\
The armored truck had to pass through a security checkpoint to get to the brain. With a flash of her official identification, Stella got them through to the walled and quarantined area immediately; most of the guards knew quite well of the important cargo the vehicle carried.
Even on an empty road, the ride had taken several hours. Thrax had remained in the same position for the entire trip, except maybe to lower his head slightly, removing his vacant gaze from the relieved red blood cells. The brain cell was becoming concerned about the virus. His temperature hadn't lowered in the slightest; if anything, it had actually risen.
They drove down into an underground complex hidden below the abandoned cerebellum hall before they came to a halt in a circular, domed lot. From there they had to walk.
While the truck's occupants filed out with their various equipment, papers, and documentation, Stella enlisted the same burly red blood cell as before to assist her in removing Thrax from the now stationary transport.
From some small movement, the boy seemed to regain a portion of lucidity when he was lifted from his seat on the floor. He remained frighteningly limp, however.
Stella walked to the other end of the room and through a series of coded doors with Thrax and the red blood cell in tow. When she came to an intersection, she paused for a moment before deciding to take the right, surprising the red blood cell. The left would have taken her to the elevators leading to the brain. Stella knew she was to report immediately to the mayor upon arrival, but Thrax's unhealthy condition was going to delay that, whether the mayor liked it or not. Come hell or high water, they were going to the infirmary.
Stella Purkinje had taken off the protective suit during the drive, and now stepped down the hall with purpose in a steel-gray blazer and skirt. Her amorphous hair was tied severely back into a bun. She appeared in her thirties, but her smooth, light gray skin hinted at her true age of twenty-four.
She got about half-way down the hall before she noticed she wasn't being followed. She turned and glared at the ironically meek red blood cell. "Well, are you coming?" She tapped her foot.
"But- weren't we supposed to go right to the mayor? He'll be angry." The last part was almost a whine.
Sighing in exasperation, Stella marched over, yanked Thrax away from the startled cell, and continued on her way, leaving him to stand there and scratch his head. "Moron. If you want something done, do it yourself." It wasn't really a problem, Thrax was actually quite light.
Arriving at the infirmary at last, Stella handed him over to a surprised doctor; an older cell who was a bit thick around the middle, with a pair of spectacles and an uppity look about him. He was one of the few white blood cells still employed by the city; a different kind than the usual lymphocyte, who would normally work at the local immunity office. The doctor immediately set Thrax upon a hospital bed, wiping his hands on his jacket as if they were dirtied. He was not pleased.
"Stella? What the hell…" He gestured to the hospital bed with an angry wave of his arm. "You can't take that thing in here. Golg will skin me alive!"
"Please Liam, can't you help me just this once? He's really sick."
"I don't know if I can do anything for him anyway; my area of expertise lies exclusively with cells, Stella. This- this is no cell."
Stella tried using a pleading look, but when that failed utterly, she went on a different track. "…You owe me."
Doctor Liam sneered, then caved with a sigh. "Fine, fine. But you'll be taking the fall for this! Helping viruses…" he muttered. "What has Linda come to?"
/ooo\
Tap tap tap.
Tap tap.
Tappity tap tap tap-
"-Where are they!" Golg had been waiting a long time, and by now he knew it wasn't just his impatience making it seem that way. He pushed the speaker button on his desk. "Irene?" his voice was forcefully polite and calm. "The visitors have not reported in yet, why?"
The response came back through with a crackle. "I'm not positive, sir, but I heard from one of the assignment workers that she may have gone to the infirmary."
"The infirmary?" Golg deflated. "Is she injured? Never mind, I will see to this myself." Click. "I'll go crazy just sitting here anyway…" Springing up from his chair, he walked briskly out the door.
