bloodyrosemccoy: Calvin (from Calvin & Hobbes) staying up late reading (COMICS)
bloodyrosemccoy ([personal profile] bloodyrosemccoy) wrote2024-03-09 05:09 pm

The Geography of Main Street: Healthcare and Ecomanagement

Prologue and Index!

Previous Chapter!

It feels a little weird to add a ✨Paypal link, ✨ but hey, writing is hard, so if you want to tip me, I wouldn't say no!

CW in this one for animal death—though it occurs to me that I should go back and warn for the station mouse on the stoop, too. It was already dead! It didn't register to me! Also some gnarly surgery stuff.

Zarla's messages are a ton of fun to write. I also liked working out her emojis, which are approximations, since she is writing in SpaceTalk.

I really want to know the story of Hobbie and the Blast Crabs. That must have been an interesting day.

---

Balancing a crate full of disgruntled sixcat on my bicycle had taken practice, but by now I was a pro. This one was particularly disgruntled, too; she was still growling as I carried her into the veterinary clinic.

I must have been whistling: "Well, aren't you cheerful today," Dr. Kellek observed.

"I caught Zip, sir," I said, presenting the crate.

He peered inside. "Very nice. The wily one, yes?"

"The Colony C leader, yes, sir."

"Excellent. Though I was looking forward to seeing anything you'd caught on camera."

I tried to look noncommittal. I had used a camera. But it wasn't the one he'd suggested. Zarla had shown me the capabilities of the one on Dad's tablet, and I knew using it was probably Eroding My Values or somesuch, but it was so much easier than applying to check out one of the library's huge, unwieldy models that needed a rig and lighting and magnetic tape cassettes.

I hadn't had to leave the tablet out for more than one night, anyway; Zip had picked that point to finally trip the trap.

Which was good, because even with its cool night vision, the camera missed the actual moment. There had been a sort of scuffle that knocked it askew, but hey—the trap had worked!

"Let's get her prepped," Dr. Kellek said, handing Zip off to his technician. "Were you still going to watch this one?" He paused, as though something had just occurred to him. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

I shook my head. "Pep rally, sir. I got a dispensation."

"I'm sorry you're going to have to miss that."

I didn't say anything. I was not sorry. I never could figure out why we were better than the 240s, or the 0s, or why we were obligated to crush them, or why shouting about it was supposed to be fun.

"Just make sure you don't miss out on all the good times," he said with a wink. "But for today—you can stay as long as it's okay with your grandmother."

Grandma did control the funds we'd made from the bake sale, for some reason, so I could see why Dr. Kellek wanted to stay on her good side.

(And Thoren had smoothed things over with one of the ecoengineers, a 120 Bolts fan who had been to more games than I had, and who said our plan sounded fine. The engineer's kid had actually made it onto Thoren's team this cycle, too, so that was a cool coincidence.)

I was almost buzzing with anticipation. "Let's do it, sir! Do you have surgical waldos?"

Dr. Kellek laughed. "Where did you hear about those? Your dad mention them? Even the hospital doesn't have tech like that."

I swallowed and spluttered out something about seeing it in movies. I hadn't even thought of it as tech. I'd gotten so used to seeing waldos and nanoscopes, bots, and lattice glue in the vids I'd seen from the Greater Database. I'd forgotten.

Sure enough, though, when, scrubbed, masked, and smocked, I took my place in a corner of the operating room, I only saw some old-fashioned mechanical tools on a tray.

"Where's Zip?" I asked the tech.

He gestured to the operating table. "Under the sheet."

I tried not to show my disappointment. "Oh. Okay."

Dr. Kellek appeared. "Ready, son?"

"Yes, sir," I said.

Dr. Kellek basically forgot I existed once he got started—which was fine; I wanted him focused on the task at hand, but it did make for a fairly dull process. The vids had narration, and multiple internal and external camera angles. Here, I mostly saw some tubes being clipped.

Still, it was in person, which was pretty cool, too.

Finally, Dr. Kellek tied off the last suture. "Take her to recovery, Sedi," he said to the tech.

Then he turned to me. "Well, my boy, what do you think?"

I scrambled for a good reply. It wasn't as helpful as the videos in the Greater Database would give me away. was not very diplomatic, I didn't think. I'm definitely going to look up why they bleed blue would also give me away.

"It was cool to see it in person, sir," I finally said.

He laughed. "Bet your dad has shown you a few fancier vids, eh? The way they do it planetside?"

Well, Dad had meant to, but he hadn't, because he'd lost his tablet. But I had found it and seen them on my own.

I definitely couldn't say that.

I didn't have to. "I'm going to clean up," Dr. Kellek went on. "You can pick up—Zip, was it?—at closing."

"Thank you, sir."

For all her grogginess, when I picked her up, Zip was clearly still angry. She really hated the collar (not that I blamed her) and hissed and spat at me when I picked up the carrier.

"I know," I told her. "But you'll be back with your colony soon."

I had repurposed part of the old garden shed for sixcat kennels. I put Zip in one far removed from the other recuperating sixcat—Ribbon, who I would be freeing tomorrow—since she seemed pretty territorial. Once I got her settled, I went back out to pick up the latest station mouse Toast had deposited on the stoop.

Again, it was gutted with, well, almost surgical precision. There was so much more to see than what had been visible Dr. Kellek's operating room.

I could find vids of dissections on the Greater Database, just as I could find surgeries. But, as with the surgeries, there was something to be said for a hands-on approach.

The shed also had a small workshop bench with a bright lamp I had fetched from storage. I had been using the bench to modify sixcat traps, but I spread a bio pod bag over it and it became a handy makeshift operating table of my own. I was far enough away from the kennels that I wasn't worried about contamination.

I supposed I could grab an anatomy book out of Dad's office, but I could get much more specific information another way. So I unsheathed my hands long enough to call up a few info pages on Dad's tablet and follow the instructions.

The multitool I had bought for the sixcat traps had a great blade on it, but I still fumbled a bit as I worked. The blade slipped, slicing the mouse's stomach. Red spilled out, and I dropped the mouse onto the table.

I gripped the edge, my vision swimming. What was I doing? Was that blood? I thought dead things didn't bleed without the pumping circulatory system.

Plus, it was stringy and pulpy, and it had a … seed in it?

Oh. Red courgettes. Probably from Vilda's garden. I had sliced its stomach open.

Well, I owed that mouse something for having subjected it to courgettes. It would be a waste to just dump it in the bio pod.

It took a bit of work to get the organs out, and I kind of made a hash of it. All sorts of gristly bits and fatty blobs clung to them. It was a mess, and I muttered "Sorry" whenever I snapped something. The mouse didn't care, of course, but it was hard not to feel responsible for it to some extent. I started to get quite fond of my subject—my teammate. It was very patient with me.

I could recognize some of the organs as I concentrated. I set them out around the mouse like I was arranging jigsaw puzzle pieces; the meditative state was the same. Eventually I had them all laid out, and that state gradually evaporated. I took a moment to marvel at the arrangement of the organs, and then I shook myself, gathered up the bio bag, dumped it all in the bio pod, and returned to clean my tools (a process also explained by a Greater Database link) and wash up.

On the way to the pods, I could hear the household had gotten active: Thoren was dumping his duffel, Vilda was putting the finishing touches on dinner, and in the front yard Dad was saying a perfunctory hello to Mr. Coralym. In a moment I'd have to go in, but I did have time to check on my charges. Ribbon was doing fine, if a bit restless.

Zip, though …

My stomach lurched.

"Dad!"

I burst in the back door just as he entered the front. "Dad! Come quick! Something's wrong with Zip!"

Dad turned with agonizing slowness, regarding as though he had never seen me before. "Zip?"

"One of the sixcats. She's—she looks sick." I thought back, trying for details. "She's lying on her side and breathing weird, and I think something is wrong." My eyes were stinging. "Please come."

As sometimes happened, Dad's shift from routine took a moment; you could almost see him changing course. But once the new course was set, he was quick enough to follow me.

Dad was always careful but assured when he examined someone (in my experience, usually me, Thoren, or one of Thoren's friends when we injured ourselves). Even so, when he touched Zip's abdomen, she reacted with a low, pained moan.

"What's the matter with her, Dad?"

He frowned. "Distended and hard. Probably bleeding internally. We need to call Dr. Kellek."

#

Zarla, are you there?

 

yo wats up

 

Sorry, I'm kind of upset right now and I wanted to talk to someone.

 

yah?

 

wats wrong

 

One of my sixcats is sick.

 

I mean, one of the ferals.

 

Dad thinks it's internal bleeding.

 

I'm in the waiting room at the vet's.

 

is ur dad with u

 

No. If he was, I couldn't talk to you.

 

o yah

 

I have to hide my tablet in a magazine ^ovo~

 

y not

 

y isnt ur dad there

 

It's dinner time.

 

thats stupid

 

He gets tired at the end of the day. His work is important.

 

o yah?

 

My dad is trying to find cures for things like autism and ADHD

 

y?

 

u there

 

Yeah

 

What do you mean, why?

 

y do they need to be cured

 

wats wrong with them

 

Don't you know what autism and ADHD are?

 

yah but like y do they need CURES

 

dont u just need to adapt some stuff

 

It's really hard for them to fit in, though. If you cure it, they can fit more easily

 

huh, i guess if ur on a space station maybe its harder to make a place for them but idk maybe ur station isnt trying

 

u mad

 

sorry if i made u mad im just thinkin it through

 

i know a couple people like that and they do ok

 

I'm not mad. But I guess I'm not explaining it very well. He's helping them. His sister was autistic and she ignored safety protocols

 

ok

 

the ones i know didnt ignore those, so i guess yah thats a problem

 

yah a lot of times i run into culture stuff i dont get! ^ovo-

 

Oh, hold on, the vet's coming back.

 

is it good news?

 

hope so

 

let me know

 

hey u still ok?

 

dreedo?

 

wats up??

 

????

 

She died

 

oh no

 

I killed her.

 

wat?

 

I told her I was going to help her.

 

I thought I WAS helping her.

 

But she died.

 

no it wasnt ur fualt

 

She'd be alive if I hadn't brought her in for spaying

 

ok yah thats true

 

but arent the others doig better bc of u

 

sometimes theres risks

 

She didn't agree to the risks, though.

 

u didnt kill her

 

but it sucks she died

 

it always sucks when someone dies

 

Yeah.

 

I'm going home. I won't be able to message you.

 

ok

 

but if u feel bad or need someone

 

im here

#

EXP: IP262
DATE: 14.25.89

 

C0 exhibiting surprising amount of emotional development given lack of therapeutic intervention. Self-direction and initiative present but inhibited; poss.environmental factors. As expected, social development below age-appropriate levels; however, interaction with E0 appears to mitigate somewhat; indicates that informal social intervention may be beneficial.

 

E0 social development within age-appropriate standards.

#

Dad's advice was almost identical to Zarla's.

"There are risks to these endeavors," he said as I stared at my courgettes.

"I shouldn't have started this," I said. "I'm going to stop."

"Are you?"

Dad's voice was always deep and cutting, so I couldn't tell if I was hearing true scorn or if I was adding it myself. "Do you truly believe that would be the best course?"

"I don't know the best course." If it had been stronger, it would have been a wail; as it was, it was just a despairing declaration.

"Then you need more information," Dad said. "Analyze the quality of life of the colonies you've worked on and those you haven't. Find out."

"Okay." I sighed. "I just wish I could do it right the first time."

"Don't we all," Dad murmured.

#

hey ru there

 

I am! What's going on?

 

nothing

 

ok something

 

Are you all right?

 

i dont kno

 

im havin a bad day

 

Oh, no!

 

We pulled into Oekr Port & i went skating

 

i used to do that with my parents at Oekr

 

i thought it would be fun

 

but then i got sad

 

and i fell over

 

and i hurt my arm

 

Oh, that's terrible! I'm sorry to hear that!

 

the thing is

 

remember i said my parents died in a hyperstorm?

 

Yeah.

 

well i only survived bc smethin werid happened to me in the storm

 

What do you mean?

 

somethin from hyperspace messed me up

 

i got decompressed but some kind of werid phenonema kept me alive

 

they found me wrapped in some kind of cocoon that was stickin to the ship

 

Hraffli's been looking at it since but we dont kno wat it was

 

hraffli is our doctor btw

 

but when i get hurt the sympoms come back

 

im scared

 

Is it some kind of lasting damage?

 

hraffli isn't sure

 

hes working on it

 

but he dosent know

 

Should I look it up?

 

no

 

i just need to talk to somebody

 

Okay.

 

tell me something distractive

 

Oh, I should tell you! I found the show that too-many-tusits loop is from.

 

o yah?

 

Check this out.

 

[image:IMAGE_264]

 

Oh, no, sorry!

 

Wrong image!

 

wow

 

sorry, sorry!

 

rough day for THAT lil guy

 

I'm so sorry!

 

Toast kills them and leaves them on my stoop, so I've been dissecting them to study anatomy.

 

The photos are to help me figure out what I'm looking at, but they're kind of gross, sorry.

 

It's not like I'm killing them myself.

 

But they are pests.

 

It's why Bright Beacon even has sixcats.

 

makes sense

 

hraffli had to dissect the blast crabs hobbie had stuck to his face

 

hobbies our pilot

 

Wow! Was he okay?!

 

o yah turns out the poison he scecretes is bad for blast crabs

 

they all fell off

 

but we wanted to make sure they wouldn't get the rest of us

 

That's a relief.

 

Is Hobbie a wooslet, then?

 

HOWD U KNOW???

 

^'v'^

 

Lucky guess! ^'v'^

 

But isn't that disruptive?

 

wat do u mean

 

I just hear wooslets are disruptive.

 

But I've never met one.

 

WAT

 

ur like RIGHT NEXT to Feavah and Squeddol!

 

Yeah, I never thought about it. We just don't have a lot of wooslets on Bright Beacon. It's weird.

 

I guess the Focal Citizens don't trust them.

 

wat so theire racist?

 

They're not racist.

 

I don't think.

 

Just wooslets are disruptive.

 

how do u know

 

if u never met one

 

I was going to say "because the Focals said so," but I guess that's a tautology.

 

yah and dumb too

 

^'v'^

 

Yeah. Dumb, too.

 

Anyway, sorry. I don't know about wooslets. I must be wrong.

 

You've got more important things to worry about than me being dumb.

 

hey if ur studying anatomy, are u trying to be a doctor?

 

maybe u can help figure out wats goin on with me

 

You know, I didn't even think about that!

 

But it sounds good.

 

I can follow in my dad's footsteps.

 

Although it might be a while before I can help you at all.

 

just talking is helping

 

Glad to hear it.

 

And here's the RIGHT link.

 

>link:infowiki:article:Gentleman_of_Fortune_(serial)

 

ooh!

 

wanna watch it?

 

I don't know how.

 

ha! leave it to me

 

ill find a streaming site

 

hang on a minute and ill have u alllll set

 

<-vo^



#
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yomikoma: Yomikoma reading (Default)

[personal profile] yomikoma 2024-03-10 11:28 am (UTC)(link)
It’s fun that the species diversity of the setting is coming through now, though our MC doesn’t get to see much of it directly.