14. Medic's logs
Medic's log,
Dr. Saanvi Ghosh
Day three after explosion, morning.
I restate my hypothesis that my colleague is either a complete madman or an utter genius. It is precisely two minutes past nine after midnight, and I understand a great deal more about the workings of the universe than I did a few hours ago.
For one thing, I thank unknown deities that my colleague takes notes in extreme detail. His entire process of working with the teleporter up until the very last moment, including his midnight excursion that led to our arrival, is documented with the exact changes he made. It should be a very simple process to duplicate.
But what he actually did… it's practically suicide. Most of the main safety systems are disengaged, much like they were prior to the explosion. I always blamed an unknown saboteur for this but realistically all they had to do was disengage a few things and the entire device would become wildly unstable. An explosion in these circumstances would be far too easy to facilitate.
Still, his theorems are brilliant. He used Mr. Conagher's mechanical mind to gather information and execute his designs but all the theoretical reasoning is surprisingly original while being logical and straightforward.
Example:
If the location A is dimension folded to location B without stopping, location A1/2 does not exist on our dimensional plain. Thus said, stopping the teleporter mid fold would open you up to a non existent plain of reality. If none of the things in location A1/2 exist, technically there is nothing between location A and location B, but then why does that necessitate a dimension folding teleporter?
It ponders on like this for pages and pages of musings before coming to the conclusion that LOGICALLY there is an entire world between locations A and B, which we simply cannot be entered. My colleague took this information and found a way to supposedly enter except instead of him going in it pulled us out.
Genius or madman, I have no clue and these damn birds are getting to me. I'm going to bed, it's been a long night.
…
Medic's log,
Dr. Saanvi Ghosh
Day three after explosion, evening.
I'm ashamed to say I did not make it to my quarters before succumbinig to exhaustion. It seems after finishing my last log entry I collapsed onto a counter at the far back of the medibay and slept for eight or nine hours. My colleague is right about one thing, I'm far more eloquent in my journals than in person, as my cry when arising from slumber was,
" Bird shit in my HAIR!" Because I awoke to find my colleagues precious Archimedes had defecated on my head. I love my hair too dear to cut it short, and my colleague adores that bird too much to let me strangle it, resulting in a very passive aggressive storming off to shower on my part.
I swear somebody is rigging these shift assignments. We drew straws for the one to six shift and I managed to be put in the position again. I've been absolutely useless all day what with the sleeping, and combined with the time it took to get the bird feces out of my hair I've made little to no contribution. Lucy made a serious error with the safety features, almost causing an entirely new explosion while I was unconscious. The subtraction of our efforts to the team have slowed pace, and we are only three quarters of the way to our goal of refitting the teleporter. I will do my best while the others are asleep, but without my colleague and Dell it will not be much.
Oh, Giulia resurfaced today. Her male counterpart reportedly saw her sulking behind a sofa in the lounge area ( These guys have a lounge area?!), around mid afternoon. I asked Lucy if she'd seen Giulia, as she'd left for lunch around that time, but she hadn't bumped into her.
Aoife has grown surprisingly attached to her counterpart, and vice versa. She shared with me that she's asexual a little while back when I was doing a routine check up ( okay, so it was an experiment, sue me), and I know she's had a lot of trouble hanging onto guys because of it. I pray to whatever deities exist/ don't she's told him and he's just a decent person and doesn't care. Last thing she needs is more trouble, especially everything she's been through.
She told me how she lost her leg once, around the same time. Sad really, her dad was drunk and picked her and her brothers up from school in the car. Never even saw the bus coming. Doctors had to take everything beneath her thigh; it killed her dad and little brother. You think she'd avoid booze after that but… I feel like it's almost her way of remembering her dad. It seems to be her major coping mechanism for most emotions anyway. She says both her remaining brothers drink too, but you'd never catch any of them in a car like that. Not even passengers. However, I'm grateful the accident did happen because she's been key in developing my thesis and experiments for limb regeneration.
Anyway I hope both the demolitions know she's going this week, most likely to never be seen again, and don't get it into their heads they can make things work. Happiness in the moment is great, but I don't want her heart any more broken. Aoife'd find a bottle and drown in it before any of us could fish her out.
…
Medic's log,
Dr. Saanvi Ghosh
Day four after explosion, ungodly early
Actually, what I said about my fish in the earlier log was wrong. I forgot I gave the guy in the apartment downstairs keys in case I did not appear for a few days so he could go turn off any lights, mechanisms, feed the fish, and possibly keep my corpse from rotting where it lays. I'd really prefer someone took care of my carcass before any sort of insects or neighborhood cats feasted on it. You never know when death may strike, doesn't hurt to take precautions.
I've been thinking about the asexuality a lot, and come to the conclusion that I am possibly a reverse asexual. I still have a physical drive, and can feel sexual pleasure, but I have never felt a romantic gravitation toward another human before. Male or female, black, white, hispanic, you name it, there's nothing. Not a single stirring of "liking" anyone. I thought I just hadn't met that person, and I did get somewhat bitter about the fact(I snapped at my colleague about this our first day in this universe) but maybe… maybe that's just who I am. And I think I'm okay with that. I will research this possibility more, see if there are other people in this category, and what the collective term might be.
It is, once again, those wee hours of the morning where the only sane beings awake are teenagers glued to their computers so they can hurriedly finish fan fiction chapters, and people working late shifts for whatever job they have been lured into. I am of course the latter. The twenty four hour guard still deemed necessary, and myself still drawing the short straw (literally) I am left to my own devices in these exhausting periods of time. I have generally spent the time brooding about my mostly meaningless life. I make my paychecks fixing up mercenaries who routinely die , but if I can just finish my research… perhaps this all will have meant something.
It's funny, my mother always wanted me to be a bollywood star. They came over from india before I was born, so I'm american through and through, but she dreamed I would go into film and to my credit I can sing fairly well. Little Saanvi songbird was her pet name for me. She wanted so badly for me to meet my grandparents; my parents gave up everything when they immigrated.
My father wanted me to be president. All american, determined, and he thought I had the face for the cameras like mom thought I had the voice for bollywood. He practically forbade me to speak hindi except around mom so I would be more fluent in english than the two of them combined. It's rare with hindu culture for a girl to be placed at such high value, but I was their only child and dammit I was going to succeed. He cried when I earned my diploma.
This is what exhaustion does to me; sends me prattling off about my parents. well, I'll never be president but I went into medicine so at least dad was happy about that. I still sing sometimes to my fish; does dancing in the kitchen count for mom? I guess what this is all about is… I don't want to have failed them. They never saw me married, never had grandchildren, I want at least part of me to have meant something more, for their struggle helping me in a world that seemed so against us to live on through my actions. I have to finish my research, make something of myself so I'm not just another immigrants' daughter. Limb autoregeneration-
They wouldn't forget the woman who facilitates that.
…
Medic's log,
Dr. Saanvi Ghosh
Day four after explosion, midafternoon.
I slept through another morning. My colleague had the decency to wake me when they needed another pair of hands, but I nearly dislodged the 67-I router which could have disable the entire left circuit. It was agreed I should not take another late night shift, else my incompetence could erase most of the entire week's work.
However, we are still making progress. We have matched most configurations dictated in my colleague's notes and should begin proper experimentation by this evening. Whatever god/s that may or may not exist please let nothing else go wrong.
Mr. Conhager has managed to keep Lucy occupied with other tasks. Fetching this. screwing that, Oh sniper's rifle has malfunctioned perhaps you could fix it type of deal. She hasn't bumbled anything else related to the teleporter. Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into her. She's been terribly sulky of late.
I'm going to rest the remainder of the afternoon, and hopefully rise in time for the finishing touches.
…
Medic's log,
Dr. Saanvi Ghosh
Day four after explosion, late evening/night
We're ready. All the pieces have been assembled, diagrams followed, casing secured… We agreed to assemble the team (minus Mariya) tomorrow morning to give it a shot. Fingers crossed that we soon find ourselves home with with nothing more than an interesting story.
Everyone has of course been alerted. I even bumped into Giulia at dinner and told her what time to meet at the medibay, but she only sniffed in response. I pray she doesn't blow it off, it would be like her to unnecessarily throw a wrench in things.
Aoife took the news… not well but she took it. She was downcast, and then slipped off. Most likely talking with Tavish about it if I know anything. I pray they leave each other on good terms, and I hope she's not so invested that this completely shatters her. I've had no clue about anyone else's activity the last few days as I've been practically living in my colleague's medibay.
Anyway… to home. To goldfish, and research, and the constant duty of killing our BLU team. It's going to be strange to say the least. My colleague has pulled the late shift for tonight, but I'm not sure it's altogether necessary as whoever the killer is hasn't struck again.
Then again maybe that's exactly why it's necessary. This is my last log in this alternate universe, and I bid it a (not exactly fond) farewell.