Citadel (Book 1): Training in Necessity (29 page)

Barely turning to look at him, she gave him his instructions.  "Contact Carol, she should be in the Gate Room."  Director Greer nodded.  "Have Drew Stasis meet you there.  Once she's given him enough to go on, have him look for any obvious signs of disruption.  Anything that stands out to him can be examined in more detail by the teleporters and the Speed types.  Accompany as many of them as you can."

Again, he did as he was told.

Less than a minute later, Drew had a dozen locations that were worth checking out.

A winged flyer set him down on the roof of a hospital.  It was the only building in sight that had fully functioning lights.  He split off dozens of new hims, checked floor by floor and room by room.  He couldn't find any sign that the Turing type was there.  He wasn't entirely sure what it would look like but this didn't seem to be it.

"What about the Gatekeeper?" Mr. Randall asked.  "Wouldn't he be better suited to this?"

"No." Director Dione answered, "His... difficulties make deploying him in the current situation problematic."

The Representative didn't seem to understand so the Director of Support clarified.  "He's easily the most powerful operative the Citadel has, but he's a severe agoraphobe.  He never sets foot outside of a secure chamber he maintains at a private location." he shook his head.  "The only way we have of even reaching him is by communicator, through a tiny gate he keeps open for that purpose.  Right now, we can't even tell him we need help.  Besides, he's no better suited to a search like this, even without the handicaps, than our regular teleporters."

Randall didn't seem pleased by the information but he did accept it.

A short range teleporter, a tall man with dark eyes and a serious expression, carried him across the city in a series of quick hops.  They came to a shopping mall.  The lights were off but every screen, television, computer and cell phone was showing the same children's program.  Again, he split up to search the building and speak to people.  By the time he was done, there was no sign of the unknown Turing type but he was thoroughly sick of that damned singing frog puppet.

"What- what are you going to do when you find this- this Turing type.  You said this wasn't an attack, just an accident, so..." Randall's voice trailed off as he looked around the table.  No one looked away from him but they didn't answer him either.

"We'll do what's needed, Mr. Randall.  That's what we're for."  After Director Shift spoke, the room was quiet for a time.  Eventually, she beckoned her Hector to lean forward and spoke quietly in his ear.

William Power set him down for a moment and used a series of well placed blows to open a hole in the second story of a high school.  He retrieved Hector and they entered together.  It looked like a computer science lab, row after row of monitors.  Each one held the familiar message. 

A group of teenagers was gathered around a fallen girl.  An older man, a teacher, spoke up when he saw them.  There was fear in his voice, but there was determination too.

"She just collapsed in class.  I- I tried to call nine one one, but..."

"It's her." William Power said.  There was no doubt in his voice.

"We found her." 
She couldn't be more than two or three years younger than him, but she looked so young.
  "It's a girl, a high school kid." Hector announced.

"Is there any question?" asked Director Shift.

"Operative Power says no, ma'am.  He says, 'Her light is the brightest I've ever seen.  It's brighter than my brother's, Hagedorn's, even Everyman's.'"

She gave a small, tight nod.  "Trainee Hive, carry out your orders."

He drew his pistol and, before the teacher or her classmates could react, fired a single shot.

The silence was broken by a beep from Greer's wrist.  He looked down, touched his communicator, then announced, "Power levels are stabilizing.  It's over."

Hector would've given just about anything not to be there.

Los Angeles County General Health Center

Dr. Gregory Haus ran the busiest ER in the county.  On a busy day, they handled more than a quarter of the emergency care patients in LA.  Right now, they weren't very crowded but they lacked most of their usual tools.  It was worse than a busy day.

"I need more light." he told his intern, Renolds, keeping his voice as calm as he could.

She moved the flashlight a little higher, letting someone else add another beam.  He moved quickly, so quickly that it would have seemed rushed to anyone that had never watched emergency surgery before.  A clamp here, a cut there-

"Suction." he said.

-and the patient was done.  Hopefully not done for, but that was out of his hands now.  "Close up." he told Renolds.  He stepped back, keeping his hands at chest level, and let her move in to take over.  A nurse approached him and he questioned her as he removed his bloody gloves.

"What's next, the GSW or the bowel perforation?"

Her answer had the same hurried calm as the question.  Out of everything in the hospital, a competent nurse was by far the most useful to him.  "Steinman has the bowel, sir, the gunshot wound-"

He nodded, no need to make her finish.  Haus knew what that look meant.

"Fine, that's the last of the Reds?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Move on to the Yellows then.  I think the girl with the compound fracture in her-"

The lights came back on.  The air filled with beeps and whirring as machines and computers restarted, overshadowed by the muffled cries of joy from patients and hospital staff alike.

"Never mind." he smiled.  "Get her up to x-ray before surgery.  Hopefully she'll be able to keep both legs, instead of just her life."  She started to turn away but he stopped her.  "Oh, and spread the word.  We're back on standard triage protocol."

"Yes sir."

He didn't need to see her face to know she'd be smiling the whole way.

Greg took a moment to relax, just one.  He'd learned a long time ago, in a situation like this, you had to take a moment now and then.  It was the only way to stay useful to your patients, let alone sane.  That said, when he learned whose idiocy had left his ER without backup power in the middle of a blackout...

"Renolds." He kept his voice quiet.  No one who heard it would have mistaken it for calm.  "What did I tell you about your damn phone?  No intern of mine-"

"Sir." she cut him off.  He let her go on when he saw the sick dread in her eyes.  "It wasn't a blackout.  Some- some kind of Empowered.  It shut down the whole city, the whole country."

He held back the words he wanted to say, to scream.  "Renolds, we'll discuss the phone later.  For now, what's the situation in the rest of the city?  What are we looking at?  Is it actually over?"

She nodded.  "They're saying the Citadel, William Power stopped it.  But... planes crashed, people lost control of their cars on the freeway and... The solar station near Columbia..."

Half of him wanted to cower in the corner when he thought about what she was saying.  He shoved that half aside.  "Fine.  Your phone's back on.  Are the cell towers working again?"

She shook her head.  "I- I pay extra for service from the Great Bell.  You know, that Richards type that runs a private network?"

This time he did swear.  Even as he made a note to pick up the service himself- if he couldn't get the hospital to do it- he gave her the orders she needed.  "Call the local Citadel office and request Support.  If they can spare any Healers, we'll need them."  He grabbed a passing nurse.  "Spread the word, incoming mass casualties.  We're back on emergency protocol, as of now."  The nurse acknowledged the order, then was on his way.

His intern still hadn't dialed.  "Sir, I can't find the-" He snatched the phone out of her hands and dialed from memory.  The Los Angeles Citadel Office receptionist was as competent as ever, even if this one did sound like a kid.  He didn't promise Greg immediate aid but he assured him County General would be given top priority.  From anyone else, he would've taken that as a brush off, but the Citadel knew how priorities were meant to work.  He gave the kid Renolds's contact info and told him to use that rather than the hospital's normal number.  There was no way to know when the regular lines would be back up.

"Sir, how did you know..." she trailed off.

He managed to hold back the contemptuous snort.  "Renolds, you've got the potential to be a damn fine doctor, but you need to learn.  Every tool, every single thing that lets you do your job better, is valuable.  Use them.  Just don't let yourself be dependent on them.  You need to be able to stand on your own two feet when the time comes."

She didn't reply, not at first.  For a moment he was afraid he'd pushed her that little bit too far, broken something.  Then he saw her shoulders pull back, her spine straighten and that look in her eye.  It was the last time he'd think of her as 'just' an intern.  "Yes sir, I understand."

He nodded.  "For now, that phone is your job.  We need to get in touch with emergency services, let them know to route as much of their patient load our way as possible.  Talk to Nurse Bai, she'll tell you who to contact."

She nodded.  "I'll handle it."

He didn't need to hear the reply to know that.  Greg was already off to take care of his own job.

Gregory Haus was in his element, a hundred things to juggle and any one of them could mean life or death for someone.  He stood at the entrance to what he thought of as 'his' ER, directing the movement of patients and staff alike.  Renolds was at his side, cell phone glued to her ear.

"Any word on a Donor yet?" he asked.  He gave two patients a red tag and one a green.

"Yes sir, we've got Rachel Mulligan going under now.  No word from Morrisey or Peters."

Red patients went into the ER, immediate care would make all the difference there.  Green were walking wounded, no immediate danger.  Some of them were made to wait while others were put to work, helping out.

"She can give blood but that's all, correct?"

"Yes sir, type O, one liter a minute." Renolds answered, not slowing the pace of her fingers over her phone's screen as she spoke.  "I've got the rest of the ambulance services back online.  They'll be sending everyone our way.  First arrival will be in less than five minutes."

"Good work.  How'd you manage that?"  Two more greens and a yellow.  The last would definitely need intervention but he could wait.

She grinned.  "I contacted my provider and pointed out that if he could give emergency services free support during the crisis, he'd be a lock as their new standard carrier."

He couldn't help grinning himself.  "Nice."  Woops.  The orderly he'd just handed a black tag patient over to looked horrified.  Black meant no hope.  They'd be made comfortable but that was it.  Wasting any further resources at a time like this could mean the death of someone savable.  "Any further word from the Citadel?"

She paused to confirm before answering.  "Healer support is due in less than ten, sir."

"Did they say who?"  He sent two MAs to restrain a yellow patient.  The man had a broken femur and if he kept thrashing like that he'd pull the leg loose from its improvised traction.  It could easily get him a black tag if the bone severed the femoral.

"I don't recognize the names.  Aid Station, Retcon and a security detail."

He froze as she read off the names.  It was more dignified than the dance of joy he wanted to do.

"Take over here." he ordered, ignoring the fact that an intern should never be trusted with triage on this scale.  She didn't bat an eye, even when he turned and ran into the ER.

The area was crammed with as many patients as he could manage, red along the walls and black in the primary sections.

"Keep them breathing," he ordered, "nothing else matters right now.  As long as their hearts are beating they'll still have a chance!"  Despite the urgency of his words, his hands were steady as he worked the bag, pushing air into the lungs of a man who had more blood outside his body than in.

A bright scarlet light washed over everything, clinging to himself and everyone else in the room, everyone with that precious heartbeat.  At the same moment, he felt a familiar flow of energy.  He was a little less tired than he should be, a little more alert.  He ignored the shocked looks around him as he let go of the bag and did that dance of joy he'd been holding in.  He only let it last for a moment, but it was a good moment nonetheless.

"All you have to worry about is patching the worst damage.  As long as Stanton Aid is in the room, every one of our patients will get a little stronger by the second.  Don't be afraid to take risks.  Retcon can reset anyone's body so they're in the same shape they're in now.  Once you have a patient stable, sing out.  She'll flash your patient so she can reset them to the same state if something else goes wrong."

Greg watched the looks of awe spread.  It was easy to tell who'd worked with the pair before, they were the ones who just did as he'd told them without having to be reassured.  There was no such thing as a black tag with those two.

They'd had to open the patient's ribcage and go in with far less finesse than heart surgery normally involved.  Now... now it was fixing itself as he watched.  All they were doing was clamping the damaged arteries and veins in place.  That was enough.  They used the same process, just holding body parts in the right location until the damage repaired itself, as they closed.