Ground Zero: Prequel to Numbered Series (2 page)

“I can't do it!” moaned Marnee.

Aurelia laid down her screen and looked across the
library table at her friend. “Can't do what?”

“Can't become a Med
A
Worker,” said Marnee, putting her head in her hands.

Their fourth year at the Institute was just beginning,
and as all fourth year students they were to become Medical Assistant Workers.
There were some things that you could only learn by doing, rather than by
reading, and this part of their training reflected that. Aurelia herself was
looking forward to getting more hands on, but Marnee had been agonising for
weeks about their first real patients.

“You know everything,” Aurelia said. “I've tested you,
you've tested yourself,
you're
totally ready.”

“But... but there's people,” wailed Marnee.

Aurelia had to bite back a smile. She knew what
Marnee's problem was. As long as things had been confined to books and
pictures, she'd been fine, but the thought of connecting what they had learnt
to real, living patients, was a little daunting. She looked down at the red
flashes on the sleeve of her cadet uniform, marking her as a Med
A
Worker, then looked back at Marnee.

“I'll be there,” she promised. “You'll do fine.”

Marnee rolled her eyes, but nodded. She knew Aurelia
would look out for her.

Their first task was a relatively easy one. Taken into
the long wards of the Institute's training hospital they simply had to go to an
assigned patient, access his chart on their screens, check the diagnosis and be
prepared to report.
Simple.
Aurelia was done within
minutes, her mind carefully piecing together information, analysing possible
mistakes that could have been made in diagnosis and eliminating them one by
one. Satisfied that her job was done, she sought out Marnee, who was standing
by the bedside of her patient, anxiously reading his chart.

“Swelling in both legs,” she murmured, as Aurelia came
to join her.

“Think about everything that can show that symptom,
then
check them off, one by one,” Aurelia told her, quietly.
“Ignore the diagnosis on the chart for now.”

Marnee swallowed, and rolled up her screen with
shaking hands. She looked at Aurelia, who nodded at her.

“Go on,” she said. “You can do this.”

Noticing a Trainer scouting the floor, Aurelia quickly
made her way back to her own patient and stood quietly by his bed side. She
knew Marnee could do
it,
she just had to have
confidence in herself. But there wasn't much more that she could do now. Just
wait.

The minutes ticked by, and Aurelia shifted from foot
to foot, until finally the Trainer called a stop to their examinations. There
were only six of them in the room, and since five of the Med
A
Workers agreed with the diagnoses given to their patients, their summarising
took little time. Marnee was last.

“So, lymphedema,” said the Trainer to Marnee, his
voice clipped and short. “What treatment protocol do you recommend?”

Marnee cleared her throat before she spoke.
“Actually,” she said. “I think. I mean. Well, I think we should keep the
patient under observation for the next few hours,
then
probably let him go home.”

Aurelia furrowed her brow. She knew that Marnee should
have recommended drainage, maybe even massage, and that the patient should be
kept in the hospital for at least the next three days. The Trainer obviously
thought the same and was patently trying to remain patient with his dull
student.

“And that will alleviate the lymphedema?” he asked.

“Um, no,” said Marnee. Aurelia held her breath. “I
don't think that the patient has lymphedema at all,” she stuttered, finally.

The Trainer raised an eyebrow. “You don't?”

Marnee shook her head, her cheeks reddening. “The
thing is, I was talking to him, and, um, well, he only arrived in City 01 this
morning. He came straight to the Institute. He took a shuttle flight from City
04. And, um, well, I think the swelling could be from that. From the added
pressure during the flight, I mean.”

Tilting his head to look better at the blushing girl
in front of him the Trainer narrowed his eyes. He then pulled out his own
screen and tapped into the patient's record. Fingers hovering over the screen
he pulled up transit records to verify what Marnee had said. Then he nodded.

“Next time walk around during your flight,” he said,
directly to the patient.

Marnee snuck a glance at Aurelia, who grinned at her.
She'd done good work here.

“Thank you,” the Trainer said, looking far from
grateful. “Marnee here has just illustrated one of the finer points of
diagnosis: Talking to your patient.”

He beckoned for the Med
A
Workers to follow him out of the ward, and obediently they fell into file.

“Told you
you
could do it,”
whispered Aurelia.

“Thanks to your advice,” said Marnee, smiling back at
her.

As Aurelia had suspected, as soon as Marnee had a
little confidence in herself, she was fine. Her year of Med
A
Work went without a hiccup. Aurelia found herself drawn more and more to the
diagnostic side of medicine, puzzling out answers to mysteries fascinated her.
Marnee, on the other hand, was more of a humanist. Learning from her first
diagnosis, she spent time with her patients, talking to them, making them
comfortable. She was by far the most empathetic student amongst them, and often
solved problems faster simply because her patients told her more than they told
their official Med Worker doctor.

The two young girls had little time for anything but
study now. The end of Year Four was approaching, and in order to start official
Year Five Med Training, they had to pass a host of final exams. There was one
test that they couldn't study for, however.

“The concept is simple,” their Year Four Trainer had
told them at the beginning of the year. “Ten percent of the injectors contain
toxin. Death is immediate. You will be offered a choice of two injectors. All
you need do is select one and inject yourself. Should you do this, you will be
passed into Year Five. Should you not, you will become a Failure.”

“Unless we actually die,” Aurelia had muttered, under
her breath.

“As a Med Worker you will be faced with many difficult
decisions. This test is designed to see how well you cope with that
responsibility. Should you be unable to decide, it is unfair to both the
patients and to society as a whole to keep you here any longer. I trust that
you will all pass this test with flying colours.”

The night before the Year Four test, Aurelia sat in
bed, her screen propped up beside her so she could see Marnee's sleepy face.

“All we have to do is decide,” Marnee said. “So just
go in, grab the first syringe you see, jab it in, and
it's
over. There's no point in thinking too much about it, thinking will gain you
nothing.”

“I know,” said Aurelia, sighing.

And she did. Marnee was right. This was something
completely unavoidable, and the only thing to do was to do it. But still,
something didn't sit right with Aurelia. And it was something that she'd had a
long time to think about. Bidding her friend good night, and rolling up her
screen, Aurelia lay back and stared at the ceiling of her bedroom pod.

The concept of injecting herself she could somewhat
deal with. It was the concept of injecting as a whole that she had a problem
with. Every step of her training had told her that this was right. Everything
she'd ever learnt, even as far back as General Ed had told her that injecting
was the right thing to do. People were a society, dependent on each other,
reliant on the job that each person performed. It was not fair that one person
should take more than another. That was, after all, why they had food
rationing. And so, the theory went, it was the right and humane thing to inject
those that could no longer contribute to the Lunar Empire. No one should be a
drain on resources.

Even as a child Aurelia had been suspect of this. And
now that she was about to be confronted with the reality of it, she had the
same doubts that had plagued her before she chose to attend the Medical
Institute. She sighed, half closing her eyes and wondering if she could
possibly sleep. But a rustling sound outside her bedroom pod door made her open
them again.

“I'm awake!” she said.

The door slid open, revealing her father.

“I thought you might be,” he said, gently.

He slid the door closed behind him and tiptoed over to
sit on the edge of her bed and stroke the long black hair off her face.

“You're worried about tomorrow,” he said.

Aurelia nodded.

“You can make that decision,” said her father.

“I know.” Aurelia sighed again. “It's not the decision
that worries me, it's what it's leading to.”

Her father stayed quiet, listening. And after a few
moments, she continued.

“I can't help but think that, well, that life has
value,” she said, trying to put her thoughts into words. “That all life has
value. That if we're supposed to be a society then rather than injecting those
that can't work to contribute, that it should be our job to support them.
That...
I don't know. I'm talking nonsense.”

“You're not,” her father said, quietly.
“Not at all.
And as it happens, I feel in a very similar
way.”

Aurelia thought about this, and her father's admission
gave her confidence to speak further. She rolled over, so that she was looking
at him directly.

“Dad, I don't know if I can inject someone,” she said.
“It goes against what I believe.”

“And I've always told you to cling to your beliefs,”
said her father, smiling. “I know.”

“I understand that there are times when injecting is
the right thing to do. When there is pain and no hope of survival. But there
are many, many times when I
don't
 
believe
in taking life, and I don't
think that I can do it.”

Her father nodded. “I understand the dilemma. And you
still have a little time to think about things. You'll be injecting yourself,
not someone else. But I do have something for you to consider.”

Aurelia smiled, she couldn't help it. Her father had
never been one to give her straight answers. Instead, he preferred to give her
information that when considered carefully might provide her with the answers.

“What's that?”

“If you fail to inject someone that is supposed to be
injected, what will happen to that person?” he asked her.

She opened her mouth to respond, but he hushed her.

“No, don't answer. Think about it.”

She nodded and yawned.

“And get some sleep. Good luck tomorrow, I shall see
you in the evening.”

If I'm still alive, thought Aurelia, sleepily. But somehow
she knew she would be. She had no doubts about that.

She waited her turn, waited until her number was
called. And then she entered the office. Marnee had gone a long time before,
her number one of the first called. She'd given Aurelia a smile and a wave and
disappeared through the door. Like every other student, she had not come back.

The office was empty but for a table and a Trainer. In
silence, the Trainer keyed in a code and opened a small, black box. Inside were
two syringes. Aurelia looked at them, but could see no difference between them.
She knew she had five minutes to come to her decision, but taking any longer
was pointless. Reaching out she randomly selected one of the two, held it up to
check for air bubbles,
then
uncapped it.

“You may want to roll up your sleeve,” said the
Trainer, breaking the silence.

Aurelia cursed.
Of course.
Quickly she pushed her uniform sleeve up, baring the inside of her elbow. That
was where all injections went, and she was used to the feeling. Balancing the point
of the needle against her skin she took a breath and held it. Still she felt no
fear. Her training had told her that if the toxin worked she wouldn't even have
time to realise it. Therefore fear had no point. Finger steady, she pushed the
syringe down, feeling a little pressure,
then
the
slide of the needle as it entered her skin. The liquid in the syringe was cold
in her vein, and she let out the breath she'd been holding as she pushed the
plunger to its limit.

“Thank you,” said the Trainer. “You can exit through
the door to the right.”

That was it?
Thought Aurelia.
Over?
She hurriedly pulled the needle from her arm,
accepting a small gauze pad to place over the hole in her skin. Then she turned
and walked through the door that had been indicated. She'd been in the office
for less than a minute. And she'd done her first injection.

Pulling her sleeve down over her arm, Aurelia walked
slowly to the library. As far as she was concerned, Year Five started the next
day, and she had work to do. She wrapped her arms around her body as she
walked, shivering, and it took her several minutes to realise that she was in
shock. She'd given little thought to what she'd just done, and now that it was
over the thought of it terrified her.