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Chapter 5: Strength and Words


"How is he?" Erica asked fearfully. She had come as soon as she could find out where they had taken Lieutenant Hunter. Biting her lip, the young woman looked around for any signs of the wounded man.

General Thorton rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, "He's in surgery..."

"We don't know a damn thing," Mack snarled, obviously not pleased with the lack of information. Of all of them, the gruff older man was having the most difficult time dealing with the situation.

"The doctors said they'd tell us as soon as they know..." Jo offered, trying to console both Dr. Slate and Mack.

"Speaking of which..." Garth stood abruptly as a man in surgical garb approached them.

"General..." the doctor nodded politely first to Thorton, then to everyone else, "We managed to repair some of the damage... but there was a great deal of it.."

"Well, what does that mean?" Mack demanded impatiently.

The man sighed wearily, "The short version would be that he's still in critical condition. We did what we could, but I'm afraid we can't make any guarantees right now..." Folding his hands, the doctor continued, "If he survives the next twelve hours, he just might recover. Other than that, we'll have to wait and see."

"Thank you Dr. Fetten," Thorton murmured. After the weary doctor had taken his leave, the General cleared his throat, "Well, you heard the man. No sense in all of us standing around here. Big Guy still needs to be repaired... and I think we could all use some shut eye."

"Yeah, like we're really gonna sleep," Jo heaved a sigh as she followed her two crew mates down the hall. Perhaps fortunately, there was a lot of work to be done to mend the Big Guy. At least they would have something to occupy themselves while they waited for news.

"Dr. Slate..." Thorton began, gently taking her arm, "You need rest too. Besides, Rusty'll need someone to tell him everything's going to be all right."

She nodded and gave him a wan smile, "Of course... But... You'll keep me informed..?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Thorton replied with a smile.


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"You experimented on a human!?" Dr. Slate was livid. //Of all the irresponsible, unethical things to do...//

"No, no!" Dr. Poindexter waved his hands in a defensive gesture, "You don't understand! He would have died!" The older man sighed and sagged in defeat, "Matthew was badly injured in a car accident. His parents were killed, and there was nothing the doctors could do for him..."

"So you decided to take it upon yourself to save him..." frowning, Erica let him continue.

"What else was I supposed to do? I couldn't just let him die..." spreading his hands helplessly, Dr. Poindexter searched the young woman's face for any sign of understanding.

"But why him?" She questioned. Erica was certain there was something more to the situation than was being said.

Averting his eyes, Dr. Poindexter whispered, "He's my grandson..."

Dr. Slate's mouth formed a silent "oh" of surprise. She had been unaware that Dr. Poindexter even HAD children, let alone grandchildren. Clearing her throat, she could only say, "I see..."

The man sank into a nearby chair, "I... know it was probably the wrong thing to do..." he began, "but... I couldn't..." He looked up at Dr. Slate, "You... understand, don't you?"

She sighed, shaking her head, "Yes... I think so... Even so..."

"No, no... Don't go on. I KNOW what I did. I've thought about it for four years," dropping his head into his hands, Poindexter succumbed to the strain of the past months. //Too much has happened...//

Watching quietly, Dr. Slate bit her lip. //I should tell him...// "Lieutenant Hunter was badly hurt..."

His head snapped up in shock, "Hunter? The pilot? How?"

"In a battle with Number Seven..." she explained quickly.

Closing his eyes, Poindexter groaned, "Dear, God... I never expected... Will he be all right?"

"I... don't know..." Erica admitted. It was a difficult thing for her to say. Far more difficult than most people realized. The uncertainty was beginning to wear away her strength.

"Hunter... I remember him," Poindexter dropped his eyes to stare at the floor. He couldn't stand the pain in the young woman's eyes. "He was one of the original pilots on the BGY project... Good man... The best of the lot..."

"Yes..." she agreed quietly, "He is..."



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"Dr. Slate!" Rusty tugged on her lab coat, "Why are we here?"

She smiled faintly down at the boy robot. After her talk with Dr. Poindexter, she had returned to Quark Tower to check on her creation. She had intended to head straight to the hospital afterwards, but Rusty had insisted on accompanying her.

His cherubic face became clouded with concern, "You're not sick, are you?"

With a gentle pat on the head, she allayed his fears, "No... I'm here to see someone..." She paused near Dwayne's room where two military guards were stationed. //They're not taking any chances...// After checking her I.D., they stepped aside and politely opened the door for her.

"Who's in there?" Rusty paid the guards little attention as he went to follow Dr. Slate.

She turned and knelt in front of him, deciding it would be best to prepare the young robot, "Lieutenant Hunter was hurt very badly... during the fight with Number Seven..."

"Hurt...? How?" Rusty's mouth turned down in a frown.

"He... was trying to help Big Guy..." Dr. Slate explained, searching for a suitable answer, "He was hit by shrapnel..."

Luckily, the robot wasn't as interested in the circumstances of the Lieutenant's injury as he was in Dwayne's condition. Moving around the still kneeling doctor, he went to Dwayne's bedside. He gently laid a hand on the covers, remaining silent as he studied the wounded human. Dr. Slate joined him after a moment.

"What're all those wires?" Rusty pointed to the I.V., respirator, and heart monitor. He had never been in a hospital before, and the equipment was all very new to him.

"Those help... keep him alive..." Dr. Slate sought a more appropriate answer but found none.

"Why don't they just fix him?"

Erica tipped her head to look at Rusty, "We've talked about this before, remember? You can't repair humans like you do robots. They have to heal, which takes time."

"Oh..." Rusty murmured, "Right..." After a moment of silence, he spoke again, "He's gonna be okay too, right? Just like Big Guy?"

"I... I don't know, Rusty," Dr. Slate knew it was best to tell the boy robot the truth, "His injuries are very bad..." //I knew I would need to explain this someday...// "Sometimes... if a human is hurt too badly, they... can't heal..."

Rusty glanced up at her, recognizing the tone of her voice as the one she used to tell him serious things, "What happens then?"

"They... die..." she whispered, not truly wanting to consider the possibility. //He'll be fine... He has to be fine...//

"Die?" Rusty frowned. It wasn't the first time they had spoken of such things, though never in such a way before, "You mean like when a robot is deactivated..."

"Something like that," Dr. Slate smiled thinly. It was as apt a comparison as she could think of.

Another moment of quiet passed before Rusty spoke again, "Is Lieutenant Dwayne gonna... die?" His voice was soft, as if fearing the answer. He liked Lieutenant Dwayne...

Putting her hand on Rusty's shoulder, Dr. Slate answered truthfully, "I hope not, Rusty, I hope not..."

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ayne gonna... die?" His voice was soft, as if fearing the answer. He liked Lieutenant Dwayne...

Putting her hand on Rusty's shoulder, Dr. Slate answered truthfully, "I hope not, Rusty, I hope not..."

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