The Last World (8 page)

Chapter 10

Some things about the medical profession bothered Doctor Doug long before he became a doctor
— prescription fees, specialist fees, and the hospitals turning away people because of a lack of coverage just to name a few. Of all those, the one he hated most was the latter. When he joined the medical field, he wanted to be the voice of reason and to supply medical aid for everyone. To him, it was a person’s birthright, not a privilege, but he came to learn that such a thing was against human nature. In many ways, people were still the base animals they always were and many didn’t want to relinquish what they had.

The realism of his discovery shook him to his core, but he maintained his course. At first, he offered people financial help with their bills if needed until the rising cost of living, a new wife, and a child on the way meant he couldn’t afford to be so philanthropic. This forced him to watch those he couldn’t help struggle with the
ir diseases and rising medical costs. In many ways, the diseases they were dying from was far less debilitating than their debt. Such beliefs often brought him into contrast with his ex-wife, which is one of the many reasons their marriage was one of convenience. Being raised as a Catholic made divorce reprehensible, but in the end, he was certain God would forgive him—at least he hoped so.

Living under such an intense doctrine had helped to make him miserable in his early years while he was a free spirit. When his wife left and he had Janice to himself
, he decided he wouldn’t be as strict with her as his parents had been with him. After all, it was them, not Catholicism, that drove him to rebel. He was happy with his life and as Janice grew, he could afford to help his patients more. His daughter would want for nothing and so long as he could help it and neither would his patients.

To be honest, he hadn’t considered the expenses his current patient was running up. He assumed the boy’s insurance would cover some, if not all, of the costs. As soon as he saw Fulton Drake approach the nurses station that thought fell into the pit of his stomach as fast as a brick. He didn’t want him near his patient
, but without any medical or legal ground to stand on he was forced to allow it.

While the pair talked, Doug waited outside the room with his arms crossed with Franklin
’s chart held tight to his chest. While something about the boy unnerved him, he still felt protective. Whether it was because he was a father or an overprotective doctor, he wasn’t sure. Doug remained there through the entire meeting like a sentinel on watch duty, in case he was needed. When Fulton finished and stepped out of the room, Doug hurried to catch up with him.

“Mr. Drake, a word please?”

Fulton considered ignoring Doug, as there was nothing more to be gained, but out of professional courtesy, he stopped and turned to face him with his face the jovial mask it always was when doing business. “Yes, Doctor. I’m sorry, but could you make this quick? I have another appointment.”

Doug fought to keep his face neutral
; the man before him stood for everything he loathed. “Thank you, I’ll be as quick as I can.”
For both our sakes.
Fulton stood before Doug with his hands clasped in front of him while holding his briefcase. His shoulders slumped with the gesture and made him appear disarming. “It’s about Franklin Bowen…”

“Yes, thank you for giving me some time with him. It’s important to get these things tak
en care of as quickly as possible.”

Fulton
clearly interrupted him to maintain control and force things to hurry along, which infuriated Doug. Still, he remained calm. ”I’m glad to help, and I assume his medical bills will be taken care of?” He knew they wouldn’t be; he heard the conversation, and Fulton Drake’s reputation was well known. It’d been a feat of sheer determination that Doug hadn’t throttled him while he was still in the room. Of course, having resuscitating equipment nearby helped control him. Damn the luck.

Fulton exhaled, lowering his eyes. This was a conversation best held between lawyers and accountants
; besides, it wasn’t any of Doug’s damn business. “The matter of Mr. Bowen’s finances are none of your concern, Doctor.” His tone shifted to the same one Fulton used on his son—low and intense.

Doug remained unfazed by the reaction he got
; it was what he expected. His blood was boiling, and his face had been beet red since he began this endeavor. “So, that’s it.  You’re just going to walk away.” He wanted to say more, much more, but to do so would cost him dearly. He knew the type of man he was talking to.

A sardonic smile played across Fulton’s face and his eyes
were dead and hungry, not unlike a snake’s or shark’s. “As I said Doc, it’s no concern of mine. Good day.” Without another word, he pivoted and stalked down the hall toward the door leaving a furious Doug in his wake.

Fucking ambulance chasers!
He
knew the insult didn’t quite fit, but it was close enough for his taste. He struggled with the urge to throw something as he made his way back to room 136 to put the chart away. With that done he looked in on his patient, but Franklin was sleeping.
How’s
he do it so easily?
Doug wondered while opening the chart. Patients with concussions were often allowed to sleep if the bruise wasn’t too bad and according to everything he’d seen, Franklin was healthy. Doug rubbed his eyes and turned toward the door before checking his watch. Franklin would leave in under an hour. In what vehicle and to where were questions he didn’t have answers to.

As he closed the door behind him,
Doug saw a pair of individuals approaching and paused.

“Hi
, Daddy!”

Janice
? She was with a man he’d never met. Thoughts of dirty old men crossed his mind, but he refrained from saying anything. He trusted his daughter and knew she’d never do anything like that to Horace. Those thoughts aside, he was happy see her. “Janice. What brings you here? Everything okay?”

“I’m good. Horace called me and asked if I’d stop by. He was worried about him.” She motioned toward
the room behind Doug. “And I ran into Mr. Bowen coming in.”

Mr. Bowen? Shit! I forgot all about him
. Doug reached out a hand. “Hello, sir, I’m sorry we had to meet like this.”

Winfield noticed a realization dawn on a doctor’s face.
If I look like that, no wonder I never saw the field
. He took the offered hand. “Winfield Jackson Bowen. It’s nice to put a face to the voice, Doctor Townsend.”

“Doctor Doug, please.” Winfield nodded as Doug motioned to a small seating area across the hall.

It was the oddest hospital design the general ever saw. Generally speaking, it was uncommon to have the waiting area so close to the patients’ rooms, but that was something that didn’t concern him right then.

“Let’s have a seat and I’ll fill you in. It must’ve been a long drive, would you like some coffee? Something to eat? Our cuisine isn’t very good
, I’m afraid. We have to maintain a hospital code, after all.”

Winfield smiled at the joke
; it amazed him how much tension had melted away in the last fourteen hours. He figured he owed it to lack of sleep. “Yes, please. Black.”

Doug nodded and
stood up to get the coffee, but his daughter stopped him before he could take more than a step.

“I’ll get it
, Daddy.” Before he could utter a word, Janice left to get the coffee. She was back by the time both men were seated.

“Thank you.” Winfield smiled and took a sip. The coffee wasn’t good
, but better than what he usually drank. With a couple of sips, his mind was back to business and the well-being of his son.

Being able to read body language, Doug understood and explained everything about the accident as he knew it and Franklin’s condition. When he came to the latter part, Janice excused herself as it was a private matter. Horace would have to settle with the man being discharged that afternoon which, given
Doug’s care, meant he was healthy.

The conversation lasted about ten minutes as Doug preferred to explain everything to a patient’s family.
It often took longer, but the general absorbed everything without needing it repeated. When Doug finished, the pair remained silent for a moment, during which Doug heard his daughter talking to Phyllis. It seemed an odd backdrop for their own conversation but what wasn’t odd in the hospital by that point?

Winfield sat weighing everything he’d
just been told. By all accounts his son was fine, but something about Franklin’s behavior concerned the doctor. Years of service in the intelligence branch of the military had taught him to look at every situation and obstacle like a math equation. It was a simple way of approaching what was often a messy tangle of people, values, and beliefs.

After a few moment
s, Winfield spoke, not as a father, but as an analytical commander. “There aren’t any more tests that can be run, then?”

Doug shook his head. “I’ve run everything we have. The only inconsistency was his cerebrum being swollen yesterday
, but the swelling was almost gone by the time I left last night. There is no physical damage that we can find.”

“You think it’s mental?”

Doug shrugged. “It’s possible. I never rule out anything, but according to the technology of the twenty-first century, he’s fine.”

Winfield nodded. It’d been fifteen years since he was last on a field assignment and he knew how important following one’s hunches were. “Do you have facilities here for psychological testing?”

Doug was about to answer when a bloodcurdling scream cut through the air. Without looking, he knew it came from room 136. Both he and Winfield were at the door in seconds. The scene before them shook them to the core of their beings.

On the bed, Franklin thrash
ed around with blood running from his nose and eyes. One of the nurses appeared in the doorway. “We have an embolism, get some help in here, stat!” Doug barked orders as he raced to the bed and tried to stop Franklin from thrashing about.

Without being heeded, Winfield did his best to help
, but his son struggled like a man possessed. Had it just been one of them, he was certain the person would’ve been thrown across the room with enough force to kill. “What in God’s name?” He uttered through clenched teeth.

Two more male attendants arrived to help restrain Franklin so another nurse could inject a light tranquilizer.
Doug breathed hard while trying to hold Franklin’s right arm down so the young man wouldn’t pull out his tubes. “The seizure was triggered from an embolism. I need to prep him for surgery.”

Winfield’s face
paled. “But you don’t know…”

“No time.” He turned to the attendants wheeling in a gurney. “Operating room one, now!”

With Franklin’s seizure easing, the attendants lifted him onto the gurney and wheeled him out. Speechless, Winfield stood and watched until Doug grabbed him by the arms. “The swelling must have ruptured. It was so small, it didn’t show up on our tests.”

“My boy…”

“I’ll do everything I can.” Doug let go of him and hurried after the attendants.

Janice slowly approached the room and saw
Winfield standing next to a bed with blood-stained sheets. With remarkable gentleness, Janice reached out to him. “Mr. Bowen.” He started at her touch, looking at her without any recognition. She guided him to the door as gently as she could. “My dad’s the best, Franklin will be fine. Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

Winfield nodded with a blank expression and allowed her to lead him back to where they were sitting a minute earlier. He moved out of
instinct only; his mind was on the last image of his son and focusing all of the fights they had over the years. How would he tell Nancy he helped to kill their boy?

Chapter 11

Franklin continued wandering around the
vast city he learned was called Pulchru Filia. He hadn’t the vaguest idea of what the words meant, only that they sounded beautiful and familiar. As he roamed, he saw more incredible sights that he couldn’t begin to fathom, one of those being an elevator that didn’t move from its position on the ground. The occupant would stand on a shimmering floor, rest their right hand on a box he assumed was a control. Then the portion above and below glowed and the person disappeared. When he asked about them they told him it was a spaceway. The answer didn’t help him and the only thing they offered was for him to try it.

After spending a great deal of time trying to decide if he should try the spaceway
, he approached it like a wild animal would a scrap of food in a person‘s hand. He watched a handful of people use it before he stepped up. The control box wasn’t fastened to anything he could see and when he pushed on it, it didn’t move at all. He did notice it never disappeared with the person, and it had what he guessed was a scanning pad similar to the food dispensers.

He reached out and
, after pulling his hand back three times as it brushed the metallic surface, he let his hand settle on the pad. A number came to his mind and everything around him glowed a bright, yet soft, gold. The next thing he knew, the glow faded and his surroundings changed. The walkway was gone, replaced with a lavish room enclosed on three sides, with the fourth opening onto a balcony of sorts. Around him, the furnishings looked every bit as comfortable as anything he ever sat or slept on. Paintings hung on the cream-colored walls at various locations.

“Hello?” He felt as though he were intruding in someone’s apartment. When no one answered
, he thought it’d be alright if he looked around as long as he didn’t touch anything.

Before stepping out of the small alcove
, he had to force his hand off of the control box as if it had a mind of its own. His next step took him down into the recessed center of the floor. The deep blue hue of the floor in the oval recess made it look like a rug from where he first saw it and, had he been in a hurry, he would’ve twisted or broken his ankle. It took him several minutes before he reached the balcony, and a couple more before he was brave enough to look over the edge. The sight that greeted him brought an immediate bout of vertigo. The people below him were mere specks moving along the walkways. Worse still, he was near the edge of the city where he could see a layer of clouds and a mountainous, green land below him. He was in a floating city miles above the ground. That explained why he hadn’t seen a single cloud above them since he arrived.

The thought made him swoon so he stepped back to where he felt safer. What number did he think of anyway? He used
that as a way to avoid thinking about what he just saw. The number 136 came to mind and he felt his stomach swoon again. That was the floor number he was on! He let out a groan and rubbed a hand over his closed eyes.

“
Greetings
.” The sound of a voice so near scared him beyond belief.

“Jesus Christ!” He gasped for breath with a hand over his heart. “Sorry. I mean…”
Sorry.

The elderly woman smiled at him with a kindness he came to expect from
these people. “That is alright. We can speak as well. Some of us prefer such a method of communication.”

“Oh.”
It was all he could think to say until he realized he was invading her space. “I’m sorry to intrude, I was just trying the space… thingy.”

She shook her head
, causing her silver hair to dance over her shoulders. “There is no need. We come and leave freely.”

He nodded, not sure what else he should say. Instead
, she broke the silence. “You are not from our city. Have you been to Pulchru Filia before?”

Franklin shook his head
. “No, ma’am. I’m definitely not from around here.”

“Have no worry then
. It was a simple question, which you have answered. Where in the Empire are you from?”

“Empire?”

“Yes. I do not recognize your dress, so I assume it is far away.”

He glanced down and realized he was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a white T-shirt. It surprised him no one noticed him before then and if they had, why hadn’t they pointed
at him? He definitely looked out of place when compared to the silver clothing his host wore.

“Um… I’m from Earth.” Why did he feel so strange saying that?

The woman’s eye widened, then returned to normal as she smiled. “Ah, you must be referring to Sol, which would make you a Terranplanter. How are they progressing on Sol?”

Franklin paused
, not knowing how to answer. After a moment he told the truth—a version of it anyway. “They’re doing well, better than expected.”

She nodded
. “It is always good to hear about them. I believe they are our most advanced colony, are they not?” Again he nodded, unsure of how to respond. There was a brief pause between them until she spoke again. “I wish them better futures than we face.”

Franklin’s face contorted as he tried to understand what she meant.
She reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “My apologies. You have been off-world and have not heard.” She paused and the compassion on her face changed to one of deep sorrow.

He stepped forward to offer his assistance
, but he was unsure how he could help. She saved him from his obvious embarrassment by shaking her head and motioning for him to sit across from her as she took her seat in the plush chair. “It is alright. I have lived for over three hundred years, and my own mortality does not worry me. I never thought our empire would end because of who we are. I fear what we are will be lost to the coldness of space.”

He followed her lead out of instinct while his mind
tried to focus on her age. He never imagined anyone could live half as long as she claimed, but somehow he knew she was telling him the truth.

The much older woman
stared at the floor as she imagined what the future of the universe would be like—so cold and dead without the billion-years-old human race traversing the stars on their daily business. For as long as there was recorded history, other intelligent life forms were never found. In many ways, her people were the observers of cosmic history. Who would take their place should the Disease end their reign?

Franklin sat where she indicated
, but instead of contemplating such a vast vision, his gaze roamed about the room as he took in his surroundings. He had no way of knowing what was destined for these people, his ancestors. Despite everything, he was but a speck of sand on a universal beach and until then he remained blissfully unaware.

He wished he
’d never tried the spaceway and intruded on her sanctuary. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words to express himself. When he did speak, the question he voiced wasn’t what he intended. “What do you mean by the end of the Empire?” His voice shook, though he didn’t know why.

The woman raised her
head to look at him while a gentle smile spread across her face. It gave her eyes a haunted quality that made Franklin want to cry. “Yes, you haven’t heard.” She paused once more, but only for a few seconds before continuing. “Our Expansion Fleet pierced the outer boundary of this galaxy. It may sound strange, but we have outgrown the habitable space here. At first all seemed well.” She swallowed, organizing her thoughts. “When one of the ships returned most of the crew was dying. Our scientists have been unable to isolate the cause aside from the symptoms.”

“Symptoms? What are they?” Franklin’s voice cracked when he spoke. For the duration of her story, he found himself unable to focus on anything else. He wanted to listen to her talk because her emotions swelled his heart and made it weep.

She took a deep breath and pursed her lips in thought. “You will see for yourself before too long. The disease is on our home world.”

He sat watching her for a moment
, but when he opened his mouth to ask her another question he was surrounded by the familiar whiteness. Franklin looked around in shock as his gaze settled on the lone figure standing not more than ten feet away looking out into the white space surrounding them.

“Why?” Franklin’s memories were restored and the new images combined with the old ones to form a history of an Empire he feared no longer existed.

“That was our home world, Mekah.”

“Why?” Franklin
clenched his hands into fists as his anger began to rise to dangerous levels.

“A short time ago
, that woman died. She died after witnessing our people grow sick and die. Those worlds that avoided becoming sick attacked those that were with weapons beyond your ability to understand… but nothing could stop the disease except the expanse between this world and the others.”

“Why
? Damn you! Why did you show me this?” Franklin was livid. His life was enough trouble before the weight of the universe was placed on his shoulders.

Tanok moved for the first time to look at Franklin.
“You needed to see for yourself why you need to help.”

With everything he
’d experienced, Franklin still had little understanding what was in his future, only now he was more willing to listen. “What can I do? I don’t know what you expect out of me.” Frantic, Franklin believed he finally lost his mind and grew tired of fighting against it. The sooner he allowed himself to be swept along, the easier it’d be for him. The decision not to fight anymore filled him with a peaceful calm he never before experienced. On some level, he did so because he wanted to help Tanok and the kind old woman he’d met, not because he was chosen or for any other reason. If believing himself insane would help, then so be it.

Not even a flinch or facial tick gave a hint as to what Tanok was thinking or feeling.
“That you will learn. Come, there is a great deal of work to do. There will be a price to pay.”

Franklin nodded
. What did he have to lose? A sharp pain in his head caused him to wince as Tanok stood, watching him.

“It has begun.”

*****

Doug stood in his light blue scrubs looking down at the
freshly-shaven head of his patient. Until ten minutes ago, he was ready to believe he’d been imagining his gut feeling that something was wrong with Franklin. Now, he was ready to do what he could to save his life. While such things were common in medicine, he had hoped never to experience this himself. The staff, he was proud to say, handled the emergency perfectly.

Across from him
, another resident, Doctor James Howell, stood watching the senior doctor preparing himself. While the stomach specialist was out of his league, he would assist as best he could. One of eight doctors in the hospital, he was the only one available since two were on vacation and the rest unable to be reached. This was one of the few times he ventured from the second floor on professional matters.

The two nurses and lone attendant left the
rest of the hospital short-handed for the time being should anything of consequence happen, but the odds of that were slim. They wouldn’t be missed for some time, or until lunch for the other nurses. All three of them were nervous, as this was the first true emergency they ever faced. General practice was to send the critical patients to Settler’s Grove by helicopter, but the thirty minutes wouldn’t be fast enough. From what Doctor Doug had told them, they had another ten minutes at most, which would’ve meant their patient would be dead before help arrived.

Everyone remained quiet as they waited for Doug’s signal to begin. The sounds of the various devices filled the void while Doug waited for the vital readings to settle. This procedure was something he only witnessed before by way of video in the classroom. He didn’t want to wait too long
, but beginning too early could prove just as disastrous.

When he felt the time was right
, he nodded. “Doctor Howell, if you would please…” His voice froze when Franklin’s eyes opened despite the anesthesia. “What the… Nurse put him under!” His voice rose at the thought of the young man waking while he was inside his brain.
If I hadn’t waited…

The nurse fumbled with the
anesthesia mask as she tried to put it into place over Franklin’s mouth and nose. When she finally managed to get the mask in position, the patient caught her by the wrist before she could put it tightly over his face. With an inch at most separating him from the gas, he wouldn’t breathe in enough of it to become unconscious for several minutes.

“No, please. I’m alright.”

The room took a collective breath as all five pairs of eyes locked on him. The only sound was the rhythmic droning and beeping of the machines. The first one to find his voice was Doug. “But… your embolism…”

Franklin’s eyes moved from one person to another
before settling on Doug. “I don’t know what that is, but I can tell you I’m fine.” He paused while he looked into the doctor’s eyes. “I’m fine, Doctor Doug. Would I be talking to you now if I wasn’t?” After a moment, he added, “Things are more complicated than you could possibly imagine.”