This is another improv, this time one that I've been carrying through for a few nights now. It was inspired by a problem at work -- we induce anesthesia with a mix of diazepam and ketamine, and all of a sudden we found out there was a supply problem and we couldn't get diazepam any more. Luckily, we were able to switch to Telazol, which is working just fine, but it got me wondering, what if the Keeper found herself in a similar situation?
"Supply Problem"
by CritterKeeper
Darien walked quietly into the Keep. He wasn't deliberately trying to sneak up on Claire; his walk was always quiet, the mark of a good thief. He could hear talking, and from the pauses it must be a phone call rather than another person there.
"No, don't *tell* me it's on back-order!" She sounded angry and frustrated. "Look, you're the fifth supplier I've called! Do you have any idea who might actually *have* it?" Footsteps, getting closer, then farther away. "No, I can't use that! Not in this experiment. It's got to be....a *week*?" He could hear her slam her hand against a counter. "This experiment can't be put on hold that long!"
Darien looked around the frosted glass partition next to the door. Claire was pacing up and down, phone cord trailing on the floor. She caught sight of him, and he was surprised to see what he would call a guilty flush. Turning her back to him, she lowered her voice to speak into the phone again more calmly. "Look, Mark, you've come through for me in the past when people said it couldn't be done. Anything, even one vial, could help! Please, just keep me at the top of your list if you track any down?" A sigh, full of frustration and resignation. "Thanks, Mark....I can't tell you how important this is!"
She turned back towards Darien. He smiled warily. "Trouble? I mean, if you're busy I can come back...."
"Do you need a shot of counteragent?"
He held up his tattoo in reply, showing off seven red segments.
She turned to the refrigerator, reaching for a vial on the top shelf, then hesitated. She set the vial back down and closed the door. "Darien, we need to talk."
"Uh oh....this doesn't sound like it's going to be a good talk." Darien had already hitched himself onto the Chair, but instead of leaning back for his shot, he twisted sideway to regard his doctor with cautious but trusting eyes.
Claire leaned back against the counter behind her, arms crossed nervously in front of her. "I'm going to have to ask you to wait for this shot a little longer."
He glanced back at the refrigerator, taking in the single vial on the top shelf. "Aw, crap."
"I just want to try to stretch this as long as I can."
"What's the problem, Keep? Did you forget to start a new batch in time?" he asked nervously.
"I didn't forget anything. It's just...." She sighed. "One of the key ingredients I need for synthesizing counteragent is....unavailable."
"Well...can't you just run to the local witch doctor supply store and get more?"
"I've been trying. Apparently the only company that makes it, had a problem with their production line. *Nobody* has any in stock, Darien, I've been trying all week!"
Darien could feel a quiet trembling inside his chest. His eyes darted back to that single vial sitting inside the refrigerator. "Is that....is that the last you have?"
"I'm afraid so, Darien." Her eyes were full of compassion, with a fair measure of agonized guilt. "It should be enough for a full injection."
"Should be?" he asked nervously.
"Will be," she affirmed more positively.
"But there's none, you know, in reserve?" He glanced around the Keep desperately, as if hoping to find extra counteragent in a corner somewhere.
"Even if I had made a bigger batch last time, it doesn't keep for long enough. It would be about ready to go bad by now anyway. And there wasn't a hint of this supply problem until it was too late. The ingredient doesn't keep all that long itself, either."
He looked up to her with haunted eyes. "And what happens if you can't get any more of it by the time that last shot is gone?"
The question didn't require an answer.
"Supply Problem"
by CritterKeeper
Darien walked quietly into the Keep. He wasn't deliberately trying to sneak up on Claire; his walk was always quiet, the mark of a good thief. He could hear talking, and from the pauses it must be a phone call rather than another person there.
"No, don't *tell* me it's on back-order!" She sounded angry and frustrated. "Look, you're the fifth supplier I've called! Do you have any idea who might actually *have* it?" Footsteps, getting closer, then farther away. "No, I can't use that! Not in this experiment. It's got to be....a *week*?" He could hear her slam her hand against a counter. "This experiment can't be put on hold that long!"
Darien looked around the frosted glass partition next to the door. Claire was pacing up and down, phone cord trailing on the floor. She caught sight of him, and he was surprised to see what he would call a guilty flush. Turning her back to him, she lowered her voice to speak into the phone again more calmly. "Look, Mark, you've come through for me in the past when people said it couldn't be done. Anything, even one vial, could help! Please, just keep me at the top of your list if you track any down?" A sigh, full of frustration and resignation. "Thanks, Mark....I can't tell you how important this is!"
She turned back towards Darien. He smiled warily. "Trouble? I mean, if you're busy I can come back...."
"Do you need a shot of counteragent?"
He held up his tattoo in reply, showing off seven red segments.
She turned to the refrigerator, reaching for a vial on the top shelf, then hesitated. She set the vial back down and closed the door. "Darien, we need to talk."
"Uh oh....this doesn't sound like it's going to be a good talk." Darien had already hitched himself onto the Chair, but instead of leaning back for his shot, he twisted sideway to regard his doctor with cautious but trusting eyes.
Claire leaned back against the counter behind her, arms crossed nervously in front of her. "I'm going to have to ask you to wait for this shot a little longer."
He glanced back at the refrigerator, taking in the single vial on the top shelf. "Aw, crap."
"I just want to try to stretch this as long as I can."
"What's the problem, Keep? Did you forget to start a new batch in time?" he asked nervously.
"I didn't forget anything. It's just...." She sighed. "One of the key ingredients I need for synthesizing counteragent is....unavailable."
"Well...can't you just run to the local witch doctor supply store and get more?"
"I've been trying. Apparently the only company that makes it, had a problem with their production line. *Nobody* has any in stock, Darien, I've been trying all week!"
Darien could feel a quiet trembling inside his chest. His eyes darted back to that single vial sitting inside the refrigerator. "Is that....is that the last you have?"
"I'm afraid so, Darien." Her eyes were full of compassion, with a fair measure of agonized guilt. "It should be enough for a full injection."
"Should be?" he asked nervously.
"Will be," she affirmed more positively.
"But there's none, you know, in reserve?" He glanced around the Keep desperately, as if hoping to find extra counteragent in a corner somewhere.
"Even if I had made a bigger batch last time, it doesn't keep for long enough. It would be about ready to go bad by now anyway. And there wasn't a hint of this supply problem until it was too late. The ingredient doesn't keep all that long itself, either."
He looked up to her with haunted eyes. "And what happens if you can't get any more of it by the time that last shot is gone?"
The question didn't require an answer.