a/n: The procedure, whatever it was, is completed.
All the good things belong to Monolithsoft.
Hope knew that Nicole was an ally. Nicole had Seen Shit (tm). She had been part of the winnowing team on Earth, processing people for inclusion, or, more often, not. Nicole had had to refuse a slot on the Whale to a woman because her hair band had snapped during a test. Nicole was cold on the surface, and probably cold all the way down, but she cherished the people that had made it onto the Whale.
Nicole sensed Hope's intentions. After they had had a small discussion about expectations and need, Nicole sent most of the technicians away on break, not before checking her tablet and setting a strict (she glanced at Hope) 25 minute limit. One medic she held back, in order to clarify a point. When the rest of the crowd had left, zipping away to grab a coffee or a smoke, she personally walked him past Hope and pushed him through the door. "See what you can do to assist the exchange participant."
Hope got a brief glimpse of the gurney tilted at more than a 45 degree angle, Quincy's head dangling low enough for the short Ma-non to be doing something. The gown had long vanished and there was a quantity of skin on view and Hope turned around smartly. "Exchange participant?"
"We've been trying to develop unified practices among the xeno specialists and our own faculty," Nicole replied. "Pelias is our shining star. When he behaves, that is." She scanned her tablet a moment. "I think this particular case would fall under usage 8-4.099, which could be covered by form C56a without any further question."
"If you insist," said Hope. She glanced nervously at the closed door.
"If we can be more systematic, it will make it easier for future cases."
"Then by all means."
"You seem distracted," Nicole said flatly.
"I'm so sorry," Hope said. She gave the weakest of excuses, true though it was. "We had to leave Sylvalum very early."
It wasn't clear whether the apology helped, or was even necessary. "Don't worry. If you would submit the ECP request, hmm, here, this one, 510 delta, I'll be more than happy to coordinate with the Ma-non authorities."
"I didn't know they had authorities," Hope said in surprise.
"They vary. I'm getting good at spotting the right one." A quiet blip from Hope's device signaled the file transfer. "And I think that settles it. Be sure to get in the delta form today."
Her heels made a steady patter down the hall, away from the situation, now nicely under control. Hope hesitated before entering the treatment room, however. She needed to pull herself together, to get ready for whatever surprise was on the other side of the door. Nicole hadn't been sure what exactly Dr. Pelias was planning on doing, but she had had genuine praise for him. According to her, Dr. Pelias had been essential in restoring consciousness of several severely wounded citizens.
A deep breath. Fingers run through her hair. Smoothing her jacket, skimming the new weight that lay like a feather near her heart. She knocked on the door. It was a performance of politeness; she didn't wait for an invitation before entering. Hope was a trained professional, a Mediator, and she was where she belonged.
What she saw was Quincy, lying on the gurney. He was flat on his back now, eyes closed, motionless, covered for the most part by a sort of sheet. Dr. Pelias was sitting on the stool next to him, looking bored. The technician was cleaning up piles of wrappers and empty medi cases while also monitoring the breathing mask strapped to Quincy's face.
Dr. Pelias perked up when he saw her. "Oh good, you're back. You can take over hand-holding duty."
"How is he?" she asked in a normal and level voice.
"Worked perfectly, and I can sense the pizza I will be having in a few minutes. Warm. Glorious. Soon."
"But the mask?"
Pelias' goggles flashed with pride. "Nice, right? No incisions necessary."
The technician agreed. "It sure saves us a lot of trouble," he said before jotting his own set of notes.
"But what is it doing?" asked Hope.
Dr. Pelias fluttered a tiny hand. "Nanos, removal, replacement, blah blah blah. It lifts and separates. Do you really want to to to know?"
"I do."
The Ma-non did a thoughtful half-spin on his perch, as if that helped him examine Hope better. "Huh. I think you just might. Wow. I'm ... not used to that, okay?" He hopped down from the stool and headed for the door. "I can send you the write up! After you read it, I can answer your questions. Over pizza maybe?" He made a small gesture in front of her, half bounce and half bow. "Well, I have places to be, slices to eat."
Hope took a sliding step, placing herself directly in the path to the exit. "I think you better stay here until Quincy wakes up."
"No need."
"Stay. Please," she said. It was as close to an order as she was likely to make, but he didn't need to know that. Pelias shifted experimentally, testing to see if he could dart around her. Hope's shoulders slumped. She could only stay official for so long. Her voice softened. To her horror, it even wobbled a little. "Please."
Dr. Pelias sighed dramatically, which from a Ma-non sounded much like a balloon softly deflating. He climbed with exaggerated effort back onto the stool. Hope took her place across from him and examined Quincy. Aside from the mask, he could have been asleep. The sheet was pulled up to his chest, but she could still see those terrible marks. Not so terrible now. They looked like they had been partially washed away, maybe while they had done whatever Dr. Pelias had been planning. Chalk drawings after rain.
Something pinged, and the technician moved in to remove the mask, maneuvering a short tube out of Quincy's mouth. When he was done and had stepped aside, Dr. Pelias checked something on a small golden comm device. Hope very much wanted to squeeze Quincy's hand, but that wasn't really necessary, Dr. Pelias's joking aside.
She was the only one watching, so she was the one to see his eyes flicker open. Hope leaned over him at once. She probably would have pushed Pelias aside if they had been closer. (Pelias probably wouldn't have noticed. He was used to that sort of treatment.)
"Quincy? Quincy? How do you feel?"
Quincy's eyes were very wide, unnaturally so. He couldn't see her, she realized. His pupils shifted, adjusted, shifted again, and suddenly they were warm and alive. He was looking at her! He was there!
"Quincy!"
Quincy looked at her but didn't answer. But he saw her, she knew it. Dr. Pelias was saying something about pizza, the technician was checking some data, and Quincy cracked a smile. It was slightly goofy, but his smile was always a little lopsided. Like he was either trying to restrain it, or coax it out before it was ready.
"Oh brave new world," he said, his voice a rough whisper.
"What?" Hope couldn't quite understand.
"That has such people in't," said Dr. Pelias abstractedly, checking his device.
"What?!"
He looked up at Hope. "Your Shakespeare. My colleague May May is wild for that kind of dramatic stuff."
a/n: Did I mention that I have been carrying Nicole around for years as an idea. BTW, written or not, Pelias has helped Vandham, Gwin, Gino, Doug (sort of) in my version of NLA.
Next up: Did it work?