The ambulance careened around the corners as its vector thrusters whined to compensate for the acceleration increase and the change in momentum. The driver cursed as two hotheads on air bikes cut him off and forced her to drop a level in altitude to keep from pasting the creeps. Smashing through traffic and creating accidents did not improve ambulance driver's records. Even if the passenger was moderately important and the bikers were only thrill seeking joyriders.
In the back, completely oblivious to the effects of the ambulance drivers maneuvering through the metroplex was Dr. Hannible Kevorkian. A man who assumed brilliance, as a physician but was merely a textbook doctor. More of a button-pusher and bean counter than healer.
Regardless, he was responsible for this man's life and the doctor believed that he did his usually brilliant job. The on-board computer concurred, of course. The patient's life-beat was good. The stitches that held the gash above where the elbow used to be were laid in perfectly (although the computer did that but the doctor did have to select the correct stitch configuration). The arm would either have to be regenerated or a new one grown but the doctor believed that his excellent work meant only a partial replacement was needed and the new limb would attach easily.
He was irritated, however, because it took so long. That damn Med. Tech had to be decontaminated so Dr. Kevorkian had to do it himself. He pushed to the back of his mind that it was the Med. Tec. Who actually saved the man's life by swinging down to the sewage grate to pick up the patient when the lifting beams failed to work properly. He did remember the driver cursing about there being too much debris for the beam to lock on correctly. The doctor made himself a mental note to talk to the driver about her fowl language.
His thoughts were disrupted by the Tech. Returning to the Operation Area. The doctor marveled at his size. The Tech was almost centimeters taller than anyone he knew and Allah alone knew what his mass was, it was all muscle, unlike the doctor's large paunch. The Tech automatically began to go over the equipment and supplies. The doctor suddenly realized that he was double-checking his work!
"Just what do you think you are doing?" he asked haughtily.
"Trying to figure out how exactly you're going to kill this patient."
"WHAT!?!"
"You turned off the monitoring computer," the Tech stated accusingly.
"The procedure is finished and there is no need..." the doctor turned bright red when he realized what he was doing then began yelling, "Now wait just a minute! I do NOT have to explain my actions to you! In any event he is fine."
"Really," the Tech stated simply as he reached over with one of his well muscled arms and flipped the oxygen mask off the patients face. Immediately a geyser of blood ejaculated from the patient's mouth and he started coughing and gasping for air, "I have issues with your definition of FINE."
Without another look to the doctor, he palmed the computer to life while he grabbed one of the non-powered emergency scalpels from the supply catch. The computer hummed,
"Patient hemorrhaging. Air passage blocked. Recommend..."
The Tech made a sudden incision in the mans throat.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" screamed the doctor.
"A tracheotomy," replied the Tech calmly.
"You're too low! The computer indicates that the blockage is..."
"I do not want to remove his vocal chords," said the Tech as he finished attaching the oxygen tube to the trach-valve. The patient began to breath while the Tech suctioned some blood out. He suddenly realized that he needed his other hand he turned to the doctor.
"Here, hold this," and he slapped the scalpel into the doctor's hand. Unfortunately, it had been awhile since the doctor had been in surgery so he caught the blade in the palm of his hand.
"#$#^^#@%!!!! ____! _____________! #@%&(%$#^!!!"
The Tech ignored the doctor as he began to examine the patient's arm.
"Hmmmm.... I need the scalpel back," he said as he casually reach back, with-out looking, and pulled the scalpel from the doctor's closed fist like a small sword from its sheath. The doctor promptly lost two fingers and started screaming but no sound came out.
"I can't use this! It's got your blood on it," the Tech stated matter-of-factly as he threw it into the dirty sharps bin and pulled out a clean one. He started talking, mostly to himself as the doctor was staring in horror at his ruined hand, "The trick is to allow continued blood flow to the damaged region with-out having the patient bleed out. That keeps the damaged areas from dying off. That's why they used to use leeches. They increased blood flow at a steady rate."
The Tech gently undid one of the sutchers and the faintest oozing of blood began to start. The doctor, his hand forgotten, looked on the scene aghast. That mere Tech was undoing his work! He needed to be disciplined!
"You... You..."
"...saved this mans life," said the Tech as he contemplated the gore-streaked scalpel, "I saved him from you. A thought has just occurred to me on how I can save hundreds of lives..."
The doctor looked down suddenly as the handle of a scalpel appeared to be suddenly sticking out of his chest. He looked up at the Tech in shock as he fell against the back cargo doors.
"Physician," started the Tech calmly, "Heal thy self."
And palmed the door switch. With a slight explosion as the area briefly decompressed, the doctor was flung out into the sky. The Tech slammed the doors closed.
"WHAT IN HADES HAPPENED!" came the drivers voice over the intercom, "The computer is screaming at me about a seal break and forced the auto-nav to dive the wagon 40 meters. We almost got smeared by load lifter!"
"The doctor was leaning on the bay doors and the bloody locks gave," responded the Tech with some irritation, "Can we get a beam on him?"
"No way, Ron. I'm 160 stories up going almost 600 KM per hour. He's gone."
-
Ronald crawled into the cockpit next to the driver after making sure the patient was ok and the computer was monitoring him.
"What's the hold up?"
"Backlogged, as usual," complained the driver as she moved into a holding pattern and engaged the auto-nav, "We left the hospital, got the patient, saved his life, lost a doctor, and got back to the hospital in under twenty minutes. But it will be almost twice that before we can touch down. So here we sit."
She eyed the big Tech as he looked out the window. She could see his blue eyes and neatly trimmed goatee reflected in the plasti-glass.
"Did you send a report to Admin?" she continued.
"Yea."
"What'd they say?"
"Nothing. It happened to Sam's wagon last month and the doors literally blew off a wagon this morning during take off. They said that they'd look into it."
"You know, you're the best Tech in the service," she began shyly, "They say that the only reason you're not a full Doc is because there are no positions available.
He turned to face her and she licked her lips before continuing.
"It appears that a position was just vacated and you're next in line for a promotion."
"Really? So?" he asked with one eyebrow arching slightly as she leaned over to him.
"I never made it with a doctor before."
"Do you want to?"
She did and so they did.