any sleep here. She would fix everything tomorrow with her parents, after the celebration. She stepped into the front airlock, slipped on her suit, shouldered her packed items, and left her dwelling.
20
ACCEPTABLE ALTERNATIVE
In a small exam room in the New Timbuktu prison, Pavel gathered items from the limited medical stock in the room, muttering under his breath as he cobbled together a desperate plan to save Harpreet’s life.
Nearby, Ethan’s fingers flew across the holoscreen of the powerful computer on his hoverchair.
Brian Wallace was engaged in flattering or calming the scientist from the satellite facility—it wasn’t clear which to Pavel.
“Doctor Kazuko Zaifa?” asked Wallace, consulting his handheld wafer. “The same Doctor Kazuko who organized the symposium three years ago entitled ‘Ancient Code: Toward a More Beneficial Understanding’?”
Kazuko nodded, adding a layer of “puzzled” to her agitated appearance.
“I regret I was unable to attend,” said Wallace. “However, your paper upon the late twenty-second century use of non-chronological elisions looks to be most instructive.”
“I guess that will be my legacy,” Kazuko said quietly. She turned to Pavel. “Doctor, I require no treatment for my arrhythmia. Red Squadron are on their way, and I don’t have to tell you what that means for someone in my position.”
“We have something better to offer you,” said Wallace. “I wonder if you would consider accepting employment from my partners at MCC. They share my interest in non-chronological elisions and their applications.”
Kazuko looked confused. “I’m supposed to be here for my heart.”
“Lass,” interrupted Brian Wallace, “It comes down to this: would ye prefer to go off with Red Squadron or with us?”
“I don’t understand,” said Kazuko. “You’re offering me a choice?”
“Aye,” replied Brian Wallace. “And that’s more than ye’ll get from anyone in red armor.”
“We propose absconding with you,” said Ethan, his hand flying across his wafer. “Would that be an acceptable alternative to interrogation and probable un-bodying?”
“You’re serious?” Kazuko stared at each of the three men in turn. “That would be more than acceptable.”
“I am ready when you are,” Ethan said to Pavel. “Everyone will please activate their earpieces now.”
The three men snapped their heads once to the right, causing Kazuko Zaifa’s eyebrows to raise in bafflement.
“Wallace,” said Pavel, “You wait here until Ethan gets back aboard the ship. When Ethan gives you the signal, take Kazuko Zaifa to the ship.”
“M’self and the prisoner, we’re to simply waltz out the door?” asked Brian Wallace.
“I am endeavoring to turn that figure of speech into a possibility,” said Ethan, his hands skipping across the controls. “But I must return to the ship to disguise the origin of the rotating algorithmic—”
“Never mind, lad,” said Brian Wallace, cutting Ethan off. “What about Harpreet?”
“I’ll take care of her,” said Pavel. “You three, get ready to leave as soon as I get rid of the guard.”
With that, Pavel wrenched the door open, shouting, “Why wasn’t I notified of detainee Mombasu’s allergy to xenthophils?”
The guard at the door turned around, looking puzzled.
“She’s got a level six allergy to xenthophils!” Pavel shouted.
“Is that dangerous?” asked the guard.
“It’s life-threatening!” replied Pavel.
The guard blanched. “She’s being held for transfer to Budapest. I can’t have her dying on my watch.”
“Then you’d better get her back here, immediately,” said Pavel. “No. That could be too late. Take me to her.” Over his shoulder, he called. “I want the room cleared out and set up for a full blood transfer protocol.” He turned back to the guard. “Let’s go.”
As the two dashed along the hall, Pavel quizzed the guard. “You are set up for FBTPs here, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know, doctor,” replied the guard, his face still a pasty color. “Our facilities are minimal. What you saw in the exam room—that’s it.”
“That is your only medical facility? What century are you living in?” demanded Pavel. “Never mind. We can do the transfer on my ship.” Pavel tapped a wrist communicator that could be overheard safely by the guard. “Nurse Brian? Instruct Nurse Ethan to set up an FBTP aboard the ship at once.”
“Aye, doctor,” came the answering voice. “I’ve treated and released the heart patient.”
“Good,” said Pavel. “And I want a hoverstretcher in case the patient goes into xenthophilic shock.”
“Doctor,” said the guard, “A detainee transfer will require the warden’s permission. Even if it’s just to your ship.”
“I suggest you obtain such immediately,” said Pavel as the guard scanned the holding cell door open.
Pavel fumbled around in his pocket. “Five cc’s of retriverol should stabilize her,” he said, removing the casing from a med-patch.
Harpreet rose to greet the pair. “Doctor,