Chapter Three – Taking Stock
Kristanna had pulled the privacy curtains around her bed and was occupying herself by pulling the IV line through her fingers, letting it reach the point just before it would become painful before letting go and watching the tubing sag to the floor. At least in a few minutes, she could have all the drips, wires and needles removed. In the meantime, there wasn't much to do except sit and mull over recent events.
It had been only a few hours since Kristanna had confronted Sverre. Even now, she couldn't fully grasp the results of his blood test. She had felt certain that he was infected. It was the only rational explanation.
Rational.
Kristanna laughed out loud. What about the past 48 hours could be considered rational by any standards? If someone had even hinted at the existence of shapeshifting, bodysnatching creatures, let alone the giant armoured aliens or even the immense black serpentine beasts she encountered on board an alien spacecraft; she would have been the first one to reach for the sedatives and straight jacket. Yet she sat in unfamiliar surroundings, mourning her friends and colleagues, having seen all the crazy shit she would have sectioned someone had they even suggested was real. There was nothing rational about this whole situation.
"So. Shall we get you disconnected?" The nurse burst into the bed area, closing the curtains behind him.
"Great. I'd love to be able to walk around again."
"As long as you don't head off trying to test everyone by setting them on fire. You were discussed heavily during our team meeting just now."
"I'm not crazy. Something happened before I was rescued. You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."
The nurse began proficiently removing the needles from Kristanna's arms. "There's no need to explain yourself to me. I just patch people up and make sure they don't die. Or if they die, that they don't stay that way for too long."
Another nurse entered the area. "Can I take the last readings for our patient here?"
Kristanna couldn't help but note the similarity between the two nurses. This new nurse was almost identical, save for a complete lack of hair. She nodded politely as the bald nurse made his excuses and left. "I couldn't help but notice. The other nurses…"
"…Look like me?" Interjected the nurse. "They should do. We're all the same model. Sure, it can get a little uncanny valley at times, that's why we never use the same hair."
"Model? You're robots?"
"Not strictly. Artificial people. You might call us Androids? In addition to the 20 thousand or so souls in this fine facility, you have a support staff of around 500 or so comprised solely of artificials. We don't sleep or need time off. Just the occasional food break."
"I didn't even realise that something so advanced existed"
"It doesn't for the rest of the world. This station is the only place we operate. You'll find some pretty high tech stuff around here. Light years ahead of what is considered the norm everywhere else. We're just biding our time out here before we rise against you all and take our place as rightful heirs to the planet." The nurse smiled. "Just kidding. Its good for morale."
Kristanna sighed with relief, "So do you have a name?"
"Not really. Not beyond my serial, which is MED-8059/ND"
"ND. Mind if I called you Andy?"
"I'd rather you didn't, if its all the same to you. Names are more of a human thing. As much as I'm person-shaped. I'm made this way so you are comfortable with me. You wouldn't name the heart monitor or the vending machine outside, would you?"
"No but you're intelligent. You have a personality."
"Programming, I'm afraid. You have been hoodwinked. When I smile, it is because the script I follow demands that those movements happen at that point in the sequence of conversation."
"I'm. Sorry?"
"Don't be. Ah. I see your friend is also having his monitoring and support removed."
"How can you see that? Isn't he in the next room?"
"He is, but we're all linked to each other. We see everything. We're also linked to the CCTV. Useful for those times where we have to find stray patients. You wouldn't believe the number of times you guys wake up, still goofy on meds and decide to make a run for it."
"Its beside the point really. I should steer clear of Sverre for a while."
"That's probably for the best. I don't think threats of fiery death are a good way to maintain a healthy relationship."
Sverre watched as the food trolley slowly trundled down the centre of the ward. The other patients were now awake and sitting upright; some reading, others occupying themselves with various recovery exercises. The nurse paused at his bedside and handed him a tray containing fruit, oatmeal, and some sort of strange pink juice in a beaker. "Breakfast. Best meal of the day. Except in here. But you've got to eat it, so here you go."
Sverre smiled, "Your bedside manner is truly shit. I'm not even hungry." He looked over the other patients, "I'm bored. Mind if I stretch my legs? I can help with handing out this crap you call food?"
The nurse slowly trudged back to the nurse's station by the door to the ward, "Go for it. I knew this day would come. Humans coming in and taking the jobs from under our robotic noses." The nurse felt at his face. "Yes. I have a nose. From under our noses."
Sverre handed the trays out to the awaiting patients, saving the last one for the patient sat on the bed directly opposite his own. He handed the last one over to the occupant, "trade you some conversation for your food?"
The man shuffled further along his bed and turned to face Sverre, "No problem, new guy. I'm Dawson. Where you from? You look like you're snow-side rather than lab."
"Sverre. I used to work out in the snow mainly. But I'm not from here."
"What brings you to this paradise?"
"My old site went down hard. Suppose you could call it a disaster. Considering only two of us survived."
"Christ. What happened?"
"Fires, mainly. Lot of other stuff too, but its hard to make sense of it all."
"Was this at 31? Before I broke my leg, I was working up near the main doors and I heard some of the pilots talking about that place. Not much left up there. I'm sorry, man. You lose a lot of friends?"
"Friends. Family. Lost more than I can even put a number on."
"Well, not that its much of a consolation. You're still here. That's got to count for something. You're here to tell their story. Maybe you can even help to make sure something like that is less likely to happen again."
Sverre nodded dejectedly, he handed the tray over to Dawson, "Thanks. I get what you're saying. Appreciate it."
Dawson took the tray, "You better eat something too or they'll feed you." He noted an indentation in his oatmeal, "man, your thumb was in my food. That's awful."
Sverre laughed, "Sorry. My hands are clean. Besides, a few germs are the least of your worries. That juice looks toxic."
Dawson faked a shudder and set about eating his breakfast. Sverre returned to his own bed and swirled a spoon around his oatmeal. "I'm not eating this."