Arrows of Time - Kim Falconer [97]
‘What do you have?’ Everett asked, falling into step with them. He indicated the main trauma room; a path opened before them as people jumped out of the way.
‘Female, of unknown age, name or origin.’
‘What do you mean, unknown?’ Everett interrupted. ‘Scan her.’
‘Did that already. No ID.’
‘Impossible. Scan her again.’
‘I’m telling you, we did. She’s blank.’
‘No microchip?’
‘Like I said, no ID.’
‘Could she be a feral?’
He shook his head. ‘Too tall, and too clean.’
‘Where was she found?’
‘Back lots.’
‘Be specific, please,’ Everett said.
‘The back edge of the North Sector.’
‘She was in the prohibited ring? How can that be?’
The med tech glanced at Everett’s name tag. The letters were small, as they were for all the medical students. It was one of Admin’s subtle ways of reinforcing hierarchy.
‘Mr Kelly, is it?’
Everett nodded.
‘You’re fifth-year, aren’t you? The attending is on the way?’
‘What’s your point?’
‘You’re asking the wrong questions. We aren’t here to solve a mystery. We’re here to save her life. She’s down and unresponsive. If I were you, I’d be focusing on that.’
Everett grabbed the gurney, shoving the other man aside. ‘I need a history,’ Everett said, his voice cool. ‘And her point of origin is imperative to that history. Are you going to give it to me?’
The med tech raised his brows. When they turned the next corner, Everett veered to avoid a collision with an oncoming group of nurses.
The tech caught up. ‘All I know is she was called in by a security detail,’ he said in a rush.
‘Conscious at the time?’
‘When they first spotted her, yes. Conscious and fighting in the most arcane way. Two of the wounded guards are right behind us.’
Everett looked over his shoulder. ‘Really? Wounded guards?’
‘One’s lost a few fingers; the other has cracked ribs and facial paralysis.’
‘How?’
‘She carried a weapon—a sword. Knew how to use it too. Like in the old cinematics.’
‘You’re kidding. A sword?’
‘Saw it myself. She also had a mammal with her.’
‘A what?’ Everett’s mouth hung open.
‘Yeah, shocked us all. I think it was canine, but I’d have to look that up.’
Everett turned his focus towards the patient. Her long black hair was tangled with twigs and bits of grass. Her face was pale yet clear. Not a pockmark on her. Couldn’t be feral. It didn’t add up. ‘Heart rate?’
‘She was tacky at 190 when I got her on the monitor, then flat line, decreased breath sounds bilaterally and pupils dilated, unresponsive to light—no accommodation.’
‘Treatment?’
‘We started a saline drip, and administered oxygen en route.’
‘Been doing external cardio for twenty-five minutes,’ the woman astride the gurney said between compressions of the patient’s chest.
‘That’s it?’
The emergency team came towards them from the opposite end of the hallway. Everett motioned them into the trauma room and they assembled, ready to run the procedure, looking to him for instruction. This was his final year of medical school. He had only a few months to go in the trauma ward and he’d be a doctor, fully fledged. He was confident he knew what to do, but was still meeting with resistance from the tech. How hard was it to give a quick and concise history? Just because traumas of any kind were rare didn’t mean they should be this difficult.
‘You didn’t shock her?’ he asked as they came to a halt alongside the stainless steel table in the centre of the room. ‘Didn’t give E-lites? Retropulse?’
The medic grabbed his wrist. ‘Unknown origin, Kelly. No chip. You heard me, didn’t you?’
Everett snapped his arm back. ‘I did, but…’
‘You know the rules?’
‘Of course. No ID: DNR, donor status only.’
‘That’s right, and when I last checked DNR meant do not revive. I follow the rules.’
‘I see that.’ Everett motioned to the med tech to stop compressions as they transferred her to the table. The nurses hooked his patient up to the monitors and he saw for himself—flat line, no cardiac activity. Respiration nil. Brain activity, nil. ‘Tube her.’
‘DNR?’ the med tech said.
‘DNR, unless there is a crime involved. Judging