T-Minus 3

Esther, as always, was wheeling around in her clinic. The week was at its end, and she was completing her regular inventory check. She carried a small tablet in her left hand and a stylus in her right. One by one, she checked off the list on the screen. With her regulars, she needed to keep her stock above a certain minimum. The usual antics coupled with the emergency rescue earlier this week had dwindled her stock, especially various painkillers and bandages.

“Need to request more from the Hospital,” she muttered as she wheeled over to access her computer.

With a few taps on the interface, a confirmation for her request popped up. It promised the supplies she needed would be delivered by the end of her shift. She nodded in satisfaction, continuing from inventory checks to equipment checks. The sooner she finished her work, the sooner she could rest easy. She was a natural hoarder, and the thought of not having a cabinet full of medical supplies irked her.

The walls began to shake. The floor vibrated. Several items fell off her desk and skittered across the room. She steadied herself against the nearest bed. The usual automated warning woman spoke.

“Warning. Depressurization alert. Ring Section One.”

Esther could only sigh with a shake of her head.

“What did they do this time.”

The ground shook again, this time nearly flinging Esther across the room.

“Caution. Emergency lockdown in effect. Stand clear of bulkhead.”

“That’s new,” she muttered, forcing her wheelchair over to the door.

The thick titanium bulkheads lowered from the ceiling, covering the windows. They smashed into the floor with a deafening thud. She pulled on the door.

“No good.”

An alert sounded from her desk.

Dr. Emerson, please report to Engineering

“How the hell am I supposed to get to engineering if you lock my door?”

The shaking had stopped. The usually organized clinic was now a jumbled mess. Papers and pens were scattered across the floor. A puddle of water from her lucky bamboo had spilled alongside them, creating a sopping mess. Ironically, the plant itself had survived and remained on the desk, although it was near the edge. The pillows had fallen off their beds. The medicine cabinet remained closed, however its contents had jostled within. At least her computer was attached to her desk. Her patients had already ran her budget dry and she would have to resort to using pen and paper if her medical machine met the floor.

Esther carefully wheeled herself through the maze of items. She accessed her computer only for it to once again ping her.

Dr. Emerson, please report to Engineering

“Shut up!” she retorted. “Now, where’s the message system?”

It took her a few seconds to maneuver through the familiar programs. She quickly reported her situation to Security.

Dear Station Security,

This is Dr. Emerson.

Please unlock my door.

Thank you,

Dr. Emerson

---------------------

Clinic 5D - Shift One

UID: 55263

Instantly, the system pinged her.

Message failed to send.

A few seconds following that one.

Dr. Emerson, please report to Engineering.

Esther threw her hands in the air. The 5C boys were getting it this time. She wheeled herself back to her door, pounding her fist against it.

“Anyone out there? Could you open the door?”

She couldn’t make out anything distinct. There was a muffled something out there. The doctor got no other responses even after repeated attempts. She kicked the door, a dull ‘clunk’ sounding.

“I’ll be back.”

Where was the emergency ‘open sesame’ button when she needed one? With shaking that severe, there were probably several injuries. She needed to find a way to break out of her own clinic.

“How ironic.”

What did she have on hand? Drugs, drugs, drugs, bandages, paper. Soggy paper. More drugs and pillows. Oh, and herself, a damsel in distress. Nothing useful against a door.

Attempting something was better than nothing. Esther rolled over to the medicine cabinet. The extremely volatile and fragile substances were packed away tightly and secured to the walls themselves in case turbulence like before occurred. She checked the labels on several of them, cross-checking their information with her database and medicine knowledge. Pulling several vials out of some chemicals that were left here by her regulars, she mixed them together and splashed the contents against the door.

The sizzling she wished would happen did not happen. Her desperate attempt amounted to nothing more than a larger mess she’d have to tidy up later.

“March 27, 2168. Experiment one, an attempt to see if the chemicals I had in stock would burn a hole in the door. Result: mild success. One millimeter hole burnt into side of door. Expected time to break though: two years.”

She rolled away and inspected the room again.

“If brains won’t work then…”

The doctor stood up and worked for several seconds, carefully carrying her stack of textbooks and medical records to one of the wheeled stretchers. With a little effort, she stacked various heavy objects up to her head. She positioned herself behind the makeshift ram and pushed, her feet barely gaining any traction on the aluminum tiled floors. With a shout, she propelled the cart forwards. It sped along at a moderate pace before crashing into the door, recoiling backwards, and sending all of the contents flying. The doctor sat down and gave up.

“Great. Ten years for your medical degree and you can’t even help anyone.”

There was a knocking sound, followed by a muffled shout. The doctor placed her ear against the door. There was a sizzling noise, followed by a sudden increase in temperature. She jumped, taking her face away from the now scalding hot bulkhead. A dark line, accompanied by the smell of molten titanium, appeared and began to trace a rectangle. The doctor quickly backed further away, evacuating behind one of the beds.

The door fell inwards with a loud thud. A cloud of metallic dust and ashes rose as a boot stepped through the hole in her accursed door.

“Emerson?” Hensley voice queried through the smoke.

“I’m here,” she replied.

“You okay?”

“Give me a warning next time.”

“I did.”

Esther propped herself up and approached the grim engineer.

“What happened?”

The dust settled to reveal Hensley in his work attire, covered in soot and scuff marks. He lifted up his welding mask. His face was scratched and she had a feeling there were some bruises beneath his clothes. In his hands was a cutting torch. A glance outside of her clinic revealed the scenes of a catastrophe in progress. Debris was everywhere. Several walls were warped and folded. Others were battered with piping exposed. People in white coats were rushing everywhere, yelling, shouting instructions up and down the hallway. Even as she asked Hensley what the hell happened, medics were pushing through the opening with heavily injured. Other engineers were rushing past their door, attempting to cut into the next room over.

“Hull breach in Section One. We’ve got dead and dying,” Hensley answered.

“Okay, direct any wounded to me.”

“Got it. I have to go help them clear debris.”

“Alright.”

Hensley left as suddenly as he came, filing in with the other engineers outside. The medics coming in approached her, asking for her help. Time to get to work. She stood up. Esther instructed those coming in to hold the stretchers for now. There were only two beds, and the floor was a mess.

She and another doctor quickly began working on the two patients on the bed. They were the most severely injured of the ones they found already. One of the other assistants cleared the floor, shoving the pens in a desk and soaking up the water with a piece of cloth. They pulled out extra bedding and pillows from a cabinet and set the arriving patients down.

“We can’t keep them all here.”

Esther stated an obvious fact that no one wanted to voice. This clinic was for small wounds and first aid. None of the injuries they were currently treating could be taken care of properly at this clinic, especially the two she was having difficulties with. One had broken ribs that were pressing down on his lungs alongside large bruises; the other had signs of severe hemorrhaging from a jagged piece of piping stuck through his abdomen. They didn’t have the equipment, much less the supplies to deal with wounds like these.

One was a scientist she recognized from Lab 10C; the other was a Navigator, obvious from the purple stripe in his uniform. The red patch on his shoulder labeled him as a Rank 8 Navigator. She recognized him.

“Can we get to the Hospital?” she asked, frantically finding other measures to keep these two alive.

Her co-worker, Dr. Rodgers, shook her head.

“We’d have to cut our way through the bulkheads. We won’t make it in time.”

“What are the engineers doing?!”

One of their assistants ran out to grab one of the passing engineers. A few of the engineers entered the clinic.

“Clear a way to the Hospital!” she barked.

“We’re already working on that, ma’am”

“Faster!”

“We’re already working as fast as we can.”

“I don’t see you out there,” she scathed.

“Look, if you’ve got a better idea, I’d like to hear it.”

The scientist’s vitals screen began to flash red. She waved off the engineers. Dr. Rodgers converged on the dying scientist.

“We need a substitute for a chest tube,” Dr. Rodgers asserted.

“There’s nothing like that here,” Esther lamented as the scientist seemed to be suffocating before her own eyes. His lungs weren’t inflating and his skin was turning bluer by the second.

“Please! Hospital! Now!”

However, the engineers had already left the room. They had long returned to attempt to do as she pleaded: open up a path to the Hospital. Esther furiously glared at the flashing red screen. She was playing a delicate game against it, and she refused to lose. Alas, what could not be done, could not be done. Soon, the scientist’s vital screen flared red one last time before his heartbeat monitor became a flat line. Amidst the chaotic scene of the clinic, Esther could only slam her fist against the bed before turning to the Navigator, whose vital screens were less than optimal.

The assistants moved the scientist’s still warm body off the bed, lowering another priority patient onto it. Dr. Rodgers went over to attend to her as Esther continued trying to stabilize the Navigator. More and more patients came in. The floor was crowded and there was little walking space. The climate control system seemed to be malfunctioning.

A technician came in, although not with news she was hoping for.

“We’ve cut through every bulkhead in engineering. This is all the injured. What should we do with the dead?”

“You’ve got room in the hangar? Put them there for now.”

Esther replied without turning to acknowledge him. She only heard the heavy thumping of work boots as the engineer jogged to continue working elsewhere. She took a minute to wipe the sweat off her brow. Blood stained her gloves, still warm to the touch. Her vision blurred.

“I...”

“Doctor Emerson,” one of the assistants called. “We’ve run out bandages!”

“Use the extra linen.”

“We’ve used all of that too!”

“The blankets? Tear that into pieces.”

“We did that.”

“The sheets?”

“We’re using all of them.”

The doctor stomped her foot, startling the others. She glared at the assistant.

“Damn it, use your head! There’s paper everywhere! Try using that!”

But of course, if they were out of bandages, they were close to running out of everything else as well. What followed next where the painkillers, then various medicines, and soon the rest of their clean tools. But perhaps miracles did exist.

“Emerson,” Hensley’s voice called from outside the clinic. “We’ve opened up a hole. We should be able to get to the Hospital now.”

Esther looked up from her work.

“Move everyone outside. Hensley, I need you to ask your chief if I’m allowed to borrow some of your boys to transport these people.”

“He sent us over for that.”

“Good. You four, come with me. We’re sending over those on the beds first.”

Four of the engineers carefully moved the two on the beds onto stretchers and ran out of the nearly destroyed clinic. She staggered out after them.

It took a bit to catch up with the group, but they hadn’t gone too far without her. The engineer on the stretcher was more or less stabilized. She just needed to get to the Hospital to properly treat her broken bone. The Navigator on the other hand was the problem. It had taken her entire concentration back in the clinic to keep him just stable enough for them to move him, but it seemed like that wasn’t enough. They were only of the quarter of the way there when he began bleeding profusely. His wounds had reopened. She immediately tossed her coat over him, whispering words of assurance as she and the engineers hurried faster.

In the end, she decided to send the other stretcher first as she halted those carrying the Navigator.

“We have to restabilize him,” she said.

The doctor squatted down beside the stretcher. She got one of the engineers, Jiang she thought his name was, to hand over his jacket so she could elevate the Navigator’s feet.

“Help me put pressure right here,” she instructed. “We need to keep it from bleeding too much. You.”

She pointed at the other engineer.

“Run after the others and get to the Hospital before them. Tell them we have a Navigator out here. Hurry!”

The engineer nodded, taking off at the speed of light. Esther turned back to her charge. She busied herself, going through the rest of her makeshift medical supplies. She felt a hand grab her elbow. The doctor turned to see the Navigator had woken, although his eyes were sluggish and glazed with pain.

“Esther? Are you there?”

“Shut up and hang in there.”

“I-It’s okay.”

“Someone call up Organ Dev, we need a new liver!”

“Esther- listen to me.”

“I told you to shut up, Zack!”

“Don’t worry too much... okay? It’s...fine. I-”

He groaned in pain, blood now pooling around his mortal wound. His pale skin glistened under the white lights of the hallway. Esther’s hands trembled. She needed a solution. The doctor racked her mind.

“Damn it. Hemorrhaging. Need to close wound. Remove debris and apply medical foam. I… don’t know. I need to do something.”

She took her haphazard plan and put it to action.

“Esther… I need... to tell you…”

“For the last time shut up! Bite down on this!”

A makeshift rag was stuffed into his mouth as she placed both hands on the piece of pipe embedded into his abdomen. She carefully pulled, extracting the metal tube out one centimeter at a time. His muffled screams attracted the stares of the nearby workers running about.

“A little more. Come on!”

The pipe slid out of the wound, coated in a thick scarlet liquid. Zack screamed again, tears forming at the edge of his eyes. Esther reached for her first aid foam spray and applied it liberally to the now open wound. He squeezed his eyes shut, spit the rag out, and began hyperventilating.

“Hey! Come on! Look at me!”

The Navigator squinted, staring at the ceiling behind the doctor. He heaved. She grabbed his hand. The world had stopped around them.

“...Go.”

“What?”

“I...You...”

He went into a state of shock.

“...Damn! I need help! Blood transfusion. IV drip. Anything! Someone get me anything!”

The Navigator was gone. She knew he was gone thirty minutes before. He had given her the look. It was a certain look that she knew very well. It was over.

She stood up.

***