Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [294]
The microscope had also come from a child's collection. Someone had burned the local high school before Hardy had thought to send an expedition for its science equipment.
"This is very difficult to work with," Leonilla said. "But it will work. You must be very careful with the focus." She peered into the microscope. "Ah. Rouleaux cells. You cannot be a donor for this patient. Look, so that you will know."
Maureen looked into the microscope. At first she saw nothing, but she worked the focus, the feel of it coming back to her fingers … Leonilla was right, she thought. You don't really forget how. She remembered that you weren't supposed to close the other eye, but she did anyway. When the instrument was properly focused she saw blood cells. "You mean the little stacks like poker chips?" she asked.
"Poker chips?"
"Like saucers—"
"Yes. Those are rouleaux formations. They indicate clumping. Now, what was your blood type?"
"A," Maureen said.
"Good. I will mark that down. We must use these file cards, one for every person. I note on your card that your blood clumps that of Jacob Vinge, and note the same on his card. Now we try yours with others." She went through the procedure again, and once more. "Ah. You can be a donor for Bill Darden. I will note that on your card and his. Now. You know the procedure. Here are the samples, clearly labeled. Each must be tested against the others, donors against patients. When that is done we must test donors against each other, although this is not so critical; then we will know, in case we must someday give one of you a transfusion … "
"Shouldn't you be drawing blood for Darden?" Maureen tried to remember him; he'd come to the Stronghold late, and was let in because his mother lived here. He'd been in Chief Hartman's group in the battle.
"I gave him a pint already," Leonilla said. "Rick Delanty. We have no way to store whole blood, except as now—in the donor. When Darden requires more, I will send for you. Now I must go back to the ward. If you truly wish to help, you may continue with the cross matching."
Maureen spoiled the first test, but when she was careful she found it wasn't difficult, merely tedious. The work wasn't made easier by the smells from the sewage works nearby, but there wasn't much choice about that. They needed the heat from the fermenting boilers; by running the extraction through City Hall and the hospital they got that heat free, but at the cost of the ripe smells …
Once Leonilla came in and removed a patient sample and card. She didn't explain; it wasn't needed. Maureen reached for the card and looked at the name. One of the Aramson girls, age sixteen, wounded while throwing a dynamite bomb.
"With penicillin I might have saved her," Leonilla said. "But there is none, and there will never be any."
"We can't make it?" Maureen demanded
Leonilla shook her head. "Sulfa, perhaps. But not the other antibiotics. That would require more equipment than we will have for years. Precise temperature regulation. High-speed centrifuges. No, we must learn to live without penicillin." She grimaced. "Which means that a simple cut untreated can be a death sentence. People must be made to understand that We cannot ignore hygiene and first aid. Wash all cuts. And we will soon be out of tetanus vaccine, although perhaps that can be made. Perhaps."
The crossbow was large, and wound with a wheel. Harvey Randall turned it with effort, then laid the long, thin shaft into the weapon. He looked up at Brad Wagoner. "I feel like I ought to have on a black mask."
Wagoner shuddered. "Get it over," he said
Harvey took careful aim. The crossbow was set on a large tripod, and the sights were good. He stood on the ridge above Battle Valley. That name would stick, he thought. He aimed the crossbow at a still figure down below. The figure moved slightly. Harvey