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Cruel Twists of Fate
2020


Logan was beginning to get worried. Max wasn't answering her beeper, which alone wasn't all that peculiar. But, as far as he knew, he'd done nothing to upset her recently. He'd certainly done nothing to justify getting the cold shoulder like this. It wasn't until later in the day, when he braved calling Jam Pony to inquire as to her whereabouts, that he realized something was wrong.

"No, I don't have any idea where Max is. If *you* do, you better tell her to get in here. I'm trying to run a delivery service, and that doesn't work if there are no people to deliver anything!" Normal replied in agitation. "All right you guys, this is a place of business not some coffee shop. Get to work! Bip bip!" He yelled with the phone held further away from his face.

Logan hung up the phone feeling less sure about Max's well being. It was true that she wasn't the best employee at Jam Pony, sometimes she missed more days than was fair. But, not only was she absent from work, she was also unresponsive to his emergency messages to her beeper.

It looked like he was going to have to put some of his computer skills to good use. Wheeling back to his computer terminal, he began the arduous task of searching for Max's trail in a sea of binary nonsense.

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Lori spent most of the morning locked in her room. She was in no mood for interruptions. Even the thought of her patient's health wasn't enough to draw her out.

It was the first time in two years she'd really sat down to think about her current situation and the events of the past decade. Her life hadn't been the same since that dark night outside her lab when she'd been attacked. A shiver crept up her spine. Funny really, to think that a mugging eight years ago could have such a profound effect on the rest of her life.

The scar itself had caused a change in her wardrobe. High collars, turtle necks, scarves, and chokers were now commonplace. She really had no choice in that matter. Lori didn't enjoy the attention, the stares, or the questions which followed whenever someone got a look at the cut which traveled horizontally half way across her throat. Her mother sent her to all sorts of plastic surgeons in the hopes of having it removed. Much to her chagrin, most of the surgeons were nervous about any cosmetic surgery that close to a major artery. And so, the scar remained. It was a constant reminder of so many things Lori would rather forget. "Maybe it's better I remember." She said to herself softly, now fingering a picture frame absently. "I should never forget what happened. Even if its difficult, even if it hurts. Sometimes, people need to know the truth."

Resolutely, Lori pushed herself from her bed, sliding the frame back under her mattress where it belonged. Remembering was one thing, leaving items where RX could find them was another. She tied a yellow silk robe around her waist and ventured from her room to check on Max. There were things more important than her own pain. Max's health was one of them.

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RX slapped down the screen of his laptop guiltily as Lori shuffled into the room. "Hey, mother o' mine. How ya doin'? Get a good night's sleep? There for a second I thought maybe you saw your shadow and went back to bed for six weeks."

Lori looked at him askance and shook her head. "No, RX, I was actually doing a little work of my own. How's Max fairing?"

"She's all right, I guess. I mean, she's still breathing. Her heart hasn't stopped beating or anything. But, she hasn't so much as moved an eyelash."

Lori's brow furrowed as she crossed to the bed. "Are you sure? I thought Manticore gave their kids the ability to heal from trauma..."

"Regeneration?" RX asked with wide eyes.

"In a way. Although, not quite the way you mean it. I'm not sure if I could lop off her arm, and she'd grow a new one. You're sure she hasn't moved?"

"Don't you think I'd notice if she had?"

Lori glanced back at the teen and smiled. "You're right. You probably would have noticed." She agreed with a slight chuckle. "This is pretty serious though. She should be responding to the Trytophan drip at the very least. Any motor, mental, or physical damage should have been repaired."

"But it's not being repaired." RX observed, stretching as he stood up from the table. "She's just the way she was yesterday. The Comatose Kid."

Lori nodded, her lips pursed in thought. "Her personal effects are probably still at the hospital. I'm going to have to go see if I can track them down. There's more to this than meets the eye. You okay baby-sitting a while longer?"

RX shrugged. "No problemo, Doc. I am one wide awake hombre."

Lori rolled her eyes. "Just keep an eye on her, Paco."

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Lori had no sooner stepped through the doors of the hospital, then she was accosted.

"Where did you take her?" Dr. Bhakta demanded, his eyes narrowed in anger.

"Where did I take who?" Lori countered, trying to maintain an innocent tone.

"That seizure patient. I come back to check on her once your curiousity was satiated, and she was gone! Betty said she didn't have insurance, and you took her to the clinic. I called the clinic, Dr. Davis. Guess what? She was never checked in."

Lori took a step back, as if struck by the man's accusations. "I hope you're not inferring that I did something with her, Dr. Bhakta. She *didn't* have insurance. And, in case you are previously uninformed, we don't accept patients without insurance. I had the girl transferred to the clinic. It just so happens that before she got there, she died. All right!"

Dr. Bhakta's mouth dropped open. "She d...died." He stammered.

"Yes, Dr. Bhakta. You can see why I won't be talking about in the doctor's lounge later, can't you? She died because we aren't allowed to help her. It sort of goes against our oath. You know, 'first do no harm.' "

Dr. Bhakta nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry, Dr. Davis. If I'd known..."

"Well, now you do. I trust we won't be having any more run-ins anytime soon."

"No, no. Of course not."

"Good. I happen to have tracked down her next of kin. Do you know where her personal items are?"

Dr. Bhakta hesitated. "Well, she didn't have much on her. We found a bottle of Tryptophan...."

"Tryptophan?" Lori interrupted, tension creeping into her voice.

"Yeah. I didn't think it made any sense myself."

"Do you still have it?"

"The bottle of pills?"

"Of course the bottle of pills!" Lori snapped impatiently.

"I think its at the ER nurse's station. Why do you need the bottle?"

Lori's mind whirled for an answer. "I believe her seizure was caused by a drug overdose. I don't think it was Tryptophan in that bottle. I was going to take it to the lab for testing."

"Oh." Again Dr. Bhakta looked embarrassed. "I didn't catch that. I should have."

"It's not your fault. Now, I really do have to go." With a roll of her eyes, Lori sidestepped the doctor and hurried to the nurse's station. Betty looked up in surprise.

"Hello, Dr. Davis. What can I do for you? Any more uninsured patients?" There was a sarcastic bite to her friendly tone. If she wasn't in such a hurry, Lori would have reprimanded her.

"I need that bottle of Tryptophan you found on the seizure patient yesterday. Do you still have it?"

"Of course...It's right...Hmmm...Actually, it was right here."

"Was?"

"Well, it looks like someone must have misplaced it. Although, I could have sworn..."

Lori groaned. "Never mind, I should have known how incompetent you people are."

Betty's eyes flashed. "Well we aren't completely incompetent, Dr. Davis. You can have her beeper if you like." The nurse replied snidely.

Lori put out her hand for the device. At least it was something.

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Lori rested her forehead against the steering wheel of her car. "Why can't things ever be easy?" She asked in frustration. "You made a promise two years ago, Lori. You can't break it now. Not when you finally have what you've been looking for all this time."

Something was gnawing at her, some comment she'd made to Dr. Bhakta. 'I don't think it was Tryptophan in that bottle.' With a gasp of surprise, Lori straightened. She groped at her car's console for the car phone and quickly dialed a number. She was going to get some answers if it was the last thing she did. And...it very well could be.

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Lydecker concentrated on keeping his temper even. "I know this isn't exactly my field, Sir."

"You're damn right it's not your field, Deck. You're job is recovering those kids, not coming up with ways to brainwash the ones you catch."

"I'm aware of that, Sir. But...nothing you've used in the past has worked. I'd think at this point you'd be willing to try anything."

"I certainly hope *you* aren't talking to *me* about failures, Deck. Exactly how many times have those X5s slipped through your fingers? You're lucky you're still *alive* to fail again."

"I'm not going to fail, Sir. Not this time. I have new....strategies. But, it would certainly help me if I had that X4 you've been trying to reprogram."

"Deck, why should we waste a perfectly good X4 on your botched recovery attempts?"

"Because they won't be 'botched' any longer. Try the program. I guarantee, it will be the first in a long line of successes."

"For your sake, Donald, it had better be."


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