Sime~Gen Roleplaying: District Controller's Office Scenario
Episode #179: Desperate Measures (3/21/00)
Max rushes into action as orderlies move the next stretcher into the treatment room.
Max narrows his attention to focus on the new patient, trying to screen out the distractions in the ambient from all the other casualties, the harried security guards and the frantic demonstrators.
Max notices that the patient before him is someone he knows, Cassala Nicor, from the medical storage wing.
Max waves his Donor, Timon, into position to provide maximum control of the ambient.
Max: Shen! Are they attacking the hospital?
Timon does not break concentration.
Timon: I heard they tried to get into the storage area, looking for drugs and supplies.
Max zlins Cassala. She is in bad shape, battered with cuts caused by broken glass and several broken bones.
Max: She's bleeding internally. Got to stop that first. Timon, hold steady for me.
Timon: Watch out! She's got broken glass all over her. Don't touch her yet, Hajene; not till we clean her off. Orderly!
Max does what he can with his field but no contact while an orderly gingerly starts to remove the glass shards covering Cassala.
Cassala: [moaning] Broke the windows.
Max: Hold on, Cassala. I know it hurts. We're here to take care of you.
Cassala: Broke the cases. They took... took it all.
Max's tentacles writhe with impatience, but he conveys reassurance with his field while the orderly continues the clean-up.
Cassala: I tried to stop them and they... they hit me!
Cassala is quite new to the staff and to medical work. She can face physical injuries, but is in shock over the deliberate violence that was directed at her.
Rifan enters the Emergency Room. He is supposed to be off shift - supposed to be at home, in fact. But he knows they require all the help they can get and besides, he tried to go home earlier and discovered his children were at their grandmother's and his wife had left him to become a "voice of the People"... whatever that is.
Max: Why are they after the hospital? We don't have anything to do with their shenned Dam!
Rifan spots Max, who he knows really works in that department, and wends his way over to him.
Max notices Rifan approach.
Rifan: The roads are awful. The cab I was in on the way back here was mobbed. The driver panicked and made the horse trample a man.
Rifan might have stopped to help the victim, except it would have involved leaping headlong from a wildly galloping coach into an angry mob. At the time, it hadn't seemed like a good idea.
Max: Thanks for coming!
Rifan: What can I do to help?
Rifan eyes Max's current patient dubiously.
Rifan: Isn't that Hajene Cassala?
Rifan is familiar with most of the medicinal staff, for some reason.
Max: Yeah. They actually broke into medical stores and assaulted her.
Max: Zlin that selyn leakage; we're going to have to get a transfer into her stat.
Timon: [glaring] Not till it's safe for you.
Rifan: They broke into second floor medical storage??
Timon: That's the word.
Rifan: Where in shen is security?
Timon: Everywhere and underfoot.
Rifan hopes a good number of them are outside the Emergency entrance, keeping rioters from getting through that way.
Rifan zlins Cassala, moving closer to her automatically.
Rifan: That's pretty bad, all right.
Max: Rifan, I think her head's clean now. Can you work on that concussion? Just be careful.
Rifan reaches out and places his palms on her head, extending his laterals more fully.
Cassala: [mumbles] ...said they'd need 'em....
Cassala, feeling the touch on her head, opens her eyes a crack.
Cassala: [mumbles] Hey, Rifan.
Rifan: Ran into some trouble, did you?
Cassala: Yeah, they hit me.
Cassala: Terrified, vicious nagers.
Cassala: I hurt.
Rifan knows what that feels like, having had his wife bombard him with curses, kitchenware, and of course, her nager (fortunately only GN-2) upon numerous occasions.
Rifan hasn't had much time to decide whether she was serious about leaving him or not, what with all the civil disturbance.
Timon adjusts the ambient to include Rifan in his protection as much as possible.
Max sighs with relief as the orderly finishes the glass removal and he is able to get his laterals on the patient.
Max: Let me go to work on those ribs.
Max slides into position, shifting his show field where it will do the most good.
Cassala: Said they had to have 'em for the plague.
Rifan: The plague?
Rifan: Are we having an outbreak of that as well?
Cassala: After the dam breaks, gonna be plague.
Cassala: That's what they said.
Rifan: Oh.
Rifan had thought he'd missed another bit of news while making his pointless trip home.
Cassala: Ruin the reservoir, they said.
Cassala: Flood everything, dead bodies all over.
Rifan: In Norwest.
Rifan's fingers gently probe her head while he keeps up his healing field.
Cassala's injuries are slowly starting to heal, but not as fast as her selyn level is dropping. She zlins so dizzy she doesn't have a Sime's usual control of her pain.
Cassala: That's why they wanted the medicine.
Cassala: Be prepared, they said.
Cassala: Then they hit me.
Rifan lets go of her head and moves around to her side, reaching for her hands.
Rifan: We're going to require some backup here, Hajene.
Rifan does not know Max's name, he only knows him by sight.
Cassala has a nasty bruise right above her lateral sheath and it is starting to swell up.
Max: Yeah, we've got to get a transfer into her. We'll need a First for that.
Max was raised in Zeor-influenced Chanel and he does not like to acknowledge his physical limitations, though situations like these make it hard to deny.
Rifan is working her field to the best of his ability, but he is only a 2nd.
Max zlins around the room but all the Firsts on the emergency room staff are sheath-deep in patients.
Rifan is also just coming off a full length shift, and though he's on his 2nd wind, he's not as capable as he'd been that morning.
Max: Hey, we need some help over here!
Max gets no response; he can see every channel he knows is handling another emergency case.
Max: Hey, Rifan, can you hold her steady? I'm going to go see if I can scare up a First. Maybe in Dispensary.
Rifan: OK. Don't be too long though.
Rifan: This isn't looking good.
Max: Yeah, I know.
Rifan notices Cassala is no longer trying to talk.
Max smoothly disengages his showfield and then augments out the door and up the hall.
Max skids around the corner in the direction of the Dispensary, only to find his way blocked by several grim Security Guards.
Sedrik: Sorry, Hajene. This area is secured.
Max: Look we require help in Emergency. I gotta find a First.
Max zlins ahead, trying to see if he can recognize anyone despite the fairly heavy shielding in this section.
Sedrik: It's a madhouse in there. They said don't let anybody through.
Max: Have the demonstrators broken through here too?
Sedrik: Yes, and we've only just got things marginally under control indoors. There are still people fighting in the dispensary queues outside, though.
Sedrik: I'm sorry. [apologetically, but firmly]
Max: Where are the channels then?
Sedrik: They are serving those in queue as quickly as possible.
Sedrik: But with all the augmenting and fighting and injuries....
Max can see there is no help to be had here.
Max rushes down another corridor, heading for Donations. Surely they would suspend taking Donations during a riot and some staff would be free.
Max groans to himself as he sees another contingent of Security Guards blocking access to the Donations wing.
Max skids to a halt.
Macke: I'm sorry, Hajene, this area is completely closed off.
Max: I require a First Order Channel. Is one available?
Macke: Everybody is gone. We're to make sure nobody enters from either side.
Macke: Controller Arat ordered them to go out with City patrols and tend to injuries and transfers in the street.
Max: Oh, shen!
Macke thinks the Controller just didn't want highfield Gens converging on the place looking to donate.
Max knows that time is running out for poor Cassala.
Max: And what about the Controller? Did he go with them?
Macke's eyes widen at the idea of Controller Arat of all people going out in that mob scene.
Macke: No, he's upstairs.
Macke: They haven't been to the fourth floor at all and they only got as far as the stairwell on the fifth. We're aiming to keep it that way.
Max is determined to save Cassala and he doesn't care what it takes.
Macke with a security-central mentality, thinks Max was concerned for the Controller's safety.
Max comes from a Householding tradition that puts the rights of the individual before the group, and he'll be shenned if he will let himself be intimidated by any Sime's rank or position.
Max: Fifth floor, huh. Thanks!
Max flies up the stairwell.
Max remembers the location of the Controller's offices from when he first came to town, though he hasn't been back in this section very often.
Broken glass litters the stairs.
Max winces as the glass crunches beneath his shoes, which he is glad have thick soles.
Max reminds himself to shower off well tonight and get rid of his clothes entirely.
Max is a little more careful as he ascends the rest of the way and emerges on the right floor.
Max looks around for Security.
Bester is one of several guards clustered in front of a certain doorway.
Bester looks alert as Max approaches.
Max makes his way to the Controller's office, frantically zlinning past the gaggle of guards for Arat or any other First Order administrative types who might hang out with him.
Max: This is an emergency. I require a First.
Max: Please tell anyone who is here to come right away.
Bester: All right, hold your horses buddy.
Bester: Can you show me some kind of ID?
Max: ~~ flaring his Second Order nager in righteous indignation ~~
Max: I am a staff channel and I require Emergency assistance from a First Order Channel stat!
Bester has considerable training in not cringing when the opposition yells at him. Nonetheless, he does give the impression of having had his hair blown back by the nageric burst.
Bester digests that for a moment.
Bester: Will you at least tell me what your name is?
Max: I am Max Ambrov Chanel, Second Order, Emergency Room Second Shift.
Bester is not about to face Arat with no better ammunition than "there's somebody out here who won't identify himself, but he says it's an emergency".
Bester: All right, stay right here.
Bester turns and unlocks the door, opens it partway.
Max waits, tentacles twining restlessly.
Bester turns back.
Bester: Go on in.
Max enters the office.
Max: Controller Arat.
Arat is alone in the office, looking rather on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He's not morally cut out for a life of wreaking civil havoc and getting hundreds of people hurt for his own gain.
Arat has been frantically scanning courier reports from other Sime Centers and various parts of the city, wondering, basically, "what have I done?"
Max: Forgive my intrusion. There is an emergency that requires a First.
Max: I couldn't find anyone else. Can you help?
Arat: What is it?
Arat putting down his papers and half-rising automatically.
Max: Hajene Cassala has been badly injured and requires immediate transfer.
Max: She is Second Order and there is some lateral bruising.
Arat: Very well.
Max: Come quickly.
Arat skirts his desk and moves to follow Max.
Max darts ahead of him, leading the way to the stairwell.
Max: Watch out for the glass on the steps.
Arat: I'll be in the Emergency Ward. [to the guards as they pass]
Guards look at each other, and then scramble to leave their post and follow Arat and Max instead.
Max: She is a staff member here. She was assaulted while on duty.
Arat: Dispensary?
Arat doesn't remember her name from that list.
Max: No, medical stores. They looted the supplies.
Max: She's quite new on the job.
Max vaults down the staircase in augmentation, taking about 2 leaps for each flight.
Arat isn't exactly [ok, isn't at all] a physical person, but he has a long stride and can augment as well as, or better than, the next Sime. He therefore keeps pace.
Guards crash and skid down the glassy stairs in their wake, the Gens trailing the renSimes.
Bester mutters something about foolish channels and dangerous paths to more dangerous places.
Max leads the way to the Emergency Room and clears a path for Arat through the chaos within.
Max: Rifan, how's she doing!
Rifan lifts up his head from having been in full transfer contact with Cassala.
Rifan: Thank god!
Cassala is unconscious and her life is slowly ebbing away.
Rifan hastily unhands Cassala so Arat can have at her.
Arat has fortunately weathered the brutal transition to the ambient of the Emergency room more or less intact.
Arat quickly assesses the situation, and then takes Cassala up in the same position.
Cassala's internal bleeding has slowed to a trickle under Rifan's ministrations, but she's not carrying enough selyn to continue to heal.
Arat enfolds her system supportively and deep zlins her for a few moments.
Cassala's bruised arm is not serious enough to prevent transfer, but it could cause her to abort.
Arat having ascertained the situation to his satisfaction, offers selyn to see if she will accept it.
Cassala remains unconscious, though her nager flutters slightly as his field overlaps hers.
Arat masks off as much of the noise and distortion around them as possible, and probes her system, trying to bring her conscious. The transfer will be more beneficial if she's conscious.
Timon tries to hold the ambient steady for Arat, but he doesn't have enough control to be much help to a First.
Cassala's unconsciousness is caused by the only partially healed head wound. The pressure is keeping her out.
Arat settles deeper into his work, maintaining support and enticement while focusing on the head injury and the best way to address it.
Cassala begins to stir as Arat's work releases the pressure on the nerves that were blocked by swelling.
Cassala: ~~ intense need ~~
Cassala grasps blindly for the offered selyn source.
Arat shifts his nager to present the selyn for the taking, allowing her to choose her speed.
Cassala feebly twines tentacles and reaches for the fifth contact.
Cassala begins to draw.
Cassala: ~~ need, pain, nausea ~~
Arat monitors her draw, hyperalert for difficulties that might be caused by the bruised arm.
Cassala's draw wobbles sickeningly, on the edge of aborting.
Arat finesses his resistance to nurse the transfer along.
Cassala's draw smoothes out as the selyn begins to stabilize her systems.
Cassala's hungrily demands life and satisfaction.
Arat allows her to draw to repletion, projecting an almost Tecton perfect ~~ uplifting peace ~~.
Cassala's joy in transfer momentarily washes away her awareness of her injuries.
Cassala comes suddenly alert and awake in Arat's arms.
Cassala: Oh! [recognizing him with surprise] Controller Arat!
Arat blinks, and looks at her duoconsciously.
Cassala: [shy] Thank you, Hajene.
Arat has a very fast recovery time, but characteristically depends rather heavily upon his Donor during those moments.
Max lets out a sigh of relief.
Arat is a bit off kilter as he is forced to deal with it alone.
Arat: You are welcome.
Max: Yes, thank you, Controller.
Max: That was too close for comfort.
Arat releases her arms, rubbing his own hands and tentacles.
Arat looks around, allowing himself to truly examine the chaos around them for the first time.
Cassala lets him go, rubbing her own still very sore ribs.
Arat looks somewhat horrified at what he sees and zlins.
Cassala is not going to be comfortable for quite a while, but now that she is stabilized and conscious she can manage the pain.
Arat: This has gone too far. [to himself, but perfectly audibly]
Max: Yes, Controller, what those people are doing is criminal.
Max: But what can we do, except clean up the mess?
Arat's look hardens.
Arat: We shall see.
Arat turns and strides out of the Emergency room.
Bester and company, who had watched throughout the previous events, belatedly turn and hurry after him.
Rifan looks at Max.
Rifan: Good job.
Max: There wasn't anyone in Dispensary, or in Donations.
Max: I had to practically kidnap the District Controller.
Max: This place is turning into a mad house!
Rifan: It's lucky you came back when you did.
Rifan: I was about to lose her.
Max: It was close.
Rifan looks sober.
Rifan: [I mean, emotionally]
Max: Well, let's get back to work. There are more still waiting.
Rifan: OK.