Chapter 8: Bedside Matters

Doctor Ambrose Phage, sometime member of the Lombax Central Council and full time director of the Region 5 Med Center, slowly moved through the dim corridors of the isolation wing deep in the core of the Region 9 building. The rather overweight lombax was a bit distracted, studying the readouts on the display tablet he held as he plodded along. As was typical, most of the rooms were empty. Lombaxes were naturally fast healers, and when augmented with nanotech, overnight stays in the med center were a rarity. It was only the more serious cases that spent more than a few hours under their direct care. Looking up at the door to the left at the end of the hall, Ambrose knew that this would be one of them.

Talwyn Apogee had fared far worse than her mate, Ratchet. Not only didn't she have the radioexposure drugs in her system before contamination, she was also furless - her skin had no buffer to prevent direct absorptive contact with the toxin. Combined with having breathed it in, Ambrose knew that the Markazian was very lucky to be alive. If Ratchet hadn't gotten her to the med center when he did, well, he didn't want to think about it. There were already too many widows and widowers among the surviving lombaxes.

Ambrose looked at the control panel on his left glove and cursed slightly. He had left his house in Region 5 in a hurry when the call came a few hours ago, and he forgot to grab his neural matrix on the way out. It wasn't the first time he had been without it, but it was annoying. The thing was so damned addictive. Phage wrote a brief note on his tablet to get another one from Al when the Roboshop reopened. As it was, the waiting list was months long, but he hoped to ask Ratchet if he could speed things along a bit.

Manually, Phage keyed in a comm address into his glove crystal and opened a link. "Nichole?"

"Amber," Nichole replied back over a tiny audio generator built into Phage's glove. "How are they? And what's with the echo?"

"The echo," Ambrose explained, "is because I forgot my matrix, and comm crystal links give me a headache. Ratchet was released three hours ago. I'm about to check on Talwyn. I thought you'd want to be onlink for that."

"Yes!" Nichole responded. She sounded a bit more like her normal self, but there was still a reluctance or hesitation in her tone. "Thanks for taking care of them for me, Amber."

"No sweat," Phage replied. He moved to the locked keypad flashing yellow-yellow-red next to the door. He began entering a long sequence of coded digits. "People in your condition shouldn't be around radioactive patients." The keypad accepted the combination and the door swung open.

"It's called 'pregnancy', Doctor Phage," Nichole laughed. "You should look it up in your journals someday."

Ambrose looked into the darkened room. There was enough background illumination to see faint shadow in the gloom, but not much more than that. He initially thought he heard a brief scuffling noise, but now the room was silent. In the light from the corridor, Amber could see three robots, Clank and Talwyn's warbot friends, lining the neutronium paneled wall directly facing the bed. All three bots had charging cables connected, and there was activity on the data fibers. Their optics appeared to be offline at the moment, and the tip of Clank's antenna glowed very faintly in the shadows.

Reaching for the control on the doorframe, Ambrose increased the ambient lighting to five percent. It would be enough to see what he was doing, but not enough to disturb his patient.

Not that it mattered. "This is silly," the doctor said out loud.

"What is?" Nichole replied over the link.

"I'm skulking about in the dark, trying not to make any noise, so I don't wake a patient on sleep meds."

"It's nice to see you haven't completely lost your bedside manner," Nichole commented. "Especially after all those years in The Institute."

"I was never all that good at this kind of thing," Ambrose confessed, his voice dropping back so that it would not echo in the claustrophobic room. "I've always been better behind a desk." He walked up to Talwyn and began examining a small metal foil lined bag hanging from the side of the bed.

"Nonesense!" Nichole chided. "You're doing fine."

"Have you talked with Ratchet about the Helix Arc yet?" Phage asked, examining an indicator on the side of the bag, and the tube feeding into it.

"No. I've been waiting for his next appointment. I already mentioned it to Talwyn, and she seemed okay with the idea."

"Damn. There's still cellular fragmentation," Phage said.

Nichole became all business in a heartbeat. "How bad?"

"It's there, but not terrible," Amber replied. "About sixty, maybe seventy milliliters per hour."

"You have to expect that," Nichole said. "There was a lot of damage, and the interstitial fluid has to drain somewhere."

"Yeah," Phage replied, resetting the sensor on the bag to capture fresh data. "But it's still hot. She'll be in quarantine for at least another twelve hours. At least until the last of the isotope is flushed."

"Considering the scans you sent me, that's not bad!" Nichole said. "She's really fought this off."

"It's not for lack of trying," Phage said, lifting the edge of the thin blankets to expose Talwyn's abdomen, and the drainage port implanted there. "After the initial decontamination, she's been on a steady diet of nanotech concentrate and radical stabilizers." Phage verified that the drainage port was functioning properly and the fluid in the tube was clear before covering his patient with the blankets again. Looking at the controls at the top of the bed, the doctor asked, "Do you want me to take another scan?"

"Not yet," Nichole replied. "If the drainage stops as expected, I'll do it myself."

"She'll still need surgery for GBD," Phage said, then suddenly stood still.

"Did you hear that?"

"What?" Nichole asked.

Ambrose looked around the room, trying to see if he could find anything out of place in the dim light. "Nothing," Amber replied, glancing again at the warbots. They did look rather dangerous, even standing there in sleep mode.

"Her GBD is just a few low density rogues," Nichole commented. "Nothing immediate and easily controlled. It can wait until after she recovers."

"Ratchet got off lucky," Ambrose continued, checking Talwyn's skin tone and vital signs. It had been a long time since he treated a Markazian, and he had to concentrate to make sure that all of the values were within normal tolerances for the species.

"Where is he, anyway?" she asked.

"Not sure," Amber answered. "He was released a few hours ago. Clank's here though, so he can't be that far a... SONUVA...!"

"What?" Nichole's voice rose sharply in concern.

Phage exhaled heavily. "I found Ratchet," he sighed.

"Huh?"

"I was going to check the infuser, and I nearly stepped on his tail!" Ambrose explained. "He must've cracked the lock and fell asleep under her bed."

There was a long pause. Ambrose looked down at the tail tuft peeking out from the white sheets draped over the side of Talwyn's bed. He shook his head, intensely amused, and tried to fight off the temptation to step on the tip ever so gently...

"He's not snoring," Nichole stated. It was not a question.

"No."

"He snores almost as bad as my gran Zeke," Nichole said. "He's not asleep; he's been listening to everything we've been saying, thanks to your open link."

Phage groaned. "Okay, Ratchet," Doctor Phage said, and there was a bit of an edge to his voice. "Get out of there so we can have a civilized conversation."

There was a shuffling sound and the tail tuft vanished underneath Talwyn's bed. A very guilty looking Ratchet emerged on the other side. He had several large fluff pups clinging to the fur around his drooped ears. "Hi, Doctor Phage," he said weakly.

"Hello, Ratchet," Phage replied, his muzzle breaking into a slight grin at the site of the dusty minister. "Nichole, you need to have a word with your maintenance drones about proper sweeping protocol."

Ratchet looked at him strangely, puzzled.

"That bad?" Nichole's voice broke in.

"Yeah," Amber answered. "Ratchet, brush your ears. You've got fluff hanging all over you."

Ratchet brushed at his ears with his gloved hands. Bits of fluff slowly fluttered to the floor. "Oh," Ratchet said. "I see whatcha mean."

Doctor Phage had turned back to the infuser. "So you've been listening... Any questions?"

Ratchet stared down at Talwyn, lying still beneath the sheets. "GBD?"

Nichole answered from the open link. "Yes, Ratchet. You have to expect that given the radiation. It is nothing serious. She would not even notice it was there. I'd still recommend filter surgery, but more as a precaution and to get rid of it before it becomes a problem."

"Nichole," Phage broke in, "I'm putting another nanotech concentrate and nutrient vial in the infuser. Everything else looks fine."

"Okay," Nichole answered. "Ratchet, where are you staying tonight?"

A stubborn look crossed the lombax's eyes. "Here," he said firmly.

"Wrong," Nichole answered. "You and Clank are staying at the Neutrino Estate. At least until your apartment is decontaminated. What? Hang on a second..."

There was a pause. Ratchet took the opportunity to move around the bed to stand next to Clank, Zephyr and Cronk.

"Ratchet," Ambrose began. "Talwyn will be kept asleep until a few hours before she's ready to be released. Staying here is pointless."

Ratchet just shook his head.

"Ratchet," Nichole came back on the link. "Rich says that it will be at least a week until your apartment is habitable, closer to two if the hazmat team starts having fun with the job. He wants you to stay with us, too. He says you're too much of a risk to Talwyn staying there."

That was a low blow! Ratchet felt deflated, all of the bluster that he had summoned up gone with a single statement. He could not fault the logic, though. If he was the target for an assassin, anyone near him was in danger too. At least the Neutrino Estate was heavily fortified.

"Besides," Nichole added, "we'd love to have you stay. You've never been to the Estate before, and Talwyn can join you when she's released. After all, you are family."

"What do you think, Clank?" Ratchet asked, turning to the inert looking robot next to him.

Clank's optics did not illuminate, but it was plainly obvious that he had also been listening the entire time. "I believe that it is a good choice, Ratchet. We will need to discuss this latest attack with Minister Quantum anyway." Clank activated his optics, and he looked up at his friend. "Besides, there is also a slightly higher probability that you will rest while at the Estate. You were monitoring Talwyn the entire time you were here."

Amber shook his head and started chuckling quietly to himself. There was a sad, almost bitter tone to his laughter.

"What's the matter, Amber?" Nichole said over the link.

"We've talked about this before, Nichole," Ambrose replied uncomfortably.

"I still think you're wrong by the way; there's someone out there for you, if you'd give them half a chance and not stay walled up inside The Institute..." Nichole commented.

"Not now, Doctor," Amber said, stressing the title as a way of ending the conversation.

"Of course," Nichole answered lightly, unoffended. "We can talk about it during your next checkup. Ratchet, Rich and I'll expect you here within the hour. Don't make us send out the deputies to hunt you down again."

There was an audible click as the link disconnected.

"Ratchet," Ambrose said, "Really, there's nothing more you can do here. Get some rest. That's the best thing you can do for her."

Ratchet nodded sadly. "Thanks, Minister."

"Please, call me Amber. Or at least Ambrose. Minister is..."

Ratchet chuckled grimly. "I know what you mean."

He turned to the warbots. "Zephyr, Cronk. Is it okay with you?"

Ambrose startled slightly, seeing the warbots he thought were sleeping activate so quickly. He'd really have to pay more attention in the future.

"Yeah, rookie," Zephyr answered. "They're right."

"Besides," Cronk added, "you need rest too."

They were silent for a moment. Cronk finally said, "We'll be keepin' watch, if it makes ya feel better."

"That's jus' what he wanted t' hear," Zephyr retorted. "That a couple a' rust buckets like us're watchin' over her."

"I'd trust you guys with my life," Ratchet said seriously. Looking back to Talwyn, asleep in the bed, infuser cuff around her arm, he added, "I am."

"Don't worry, young'un," Zephyr said. "Nothin'll get in 'r out without our say so."

"Uh," Doctor Phage interrupted. "I've still got to check on her a few more times tonight."

Zephyr and Cronk looked at each other, turned to the doctor in unison and drawled, "Maybe..."

"We should be going, Ratchet," Clank said.

"I know," Ratchet replied. Walking over to the bed, he removed his glove and with his bare hand stroked the top of her now hairless scalp, lightly kissed the pointy tip of her right ear. She did not stir. "I'll be back soon," he said.

Without looking back, Ratchet walked to the door, putting on his glove as he went. Clank hurried to catch up to him.