Metal Organism Designed only for Cuddling

MODOC: Part 8 - Medical Leave

Part 8 - Medical Leave

           Getting out of the technician's office only required that I wait for a few minutes until he came back. While I waited, I did some research on the doctor who was working on Justin's case. He was a middle-aged gentleman, Dr. James Peterson, 46, a wife and three children living on the outskirts of the war torn borough of the Bronx. Used  as a point of invasion, in the last wars a decade ago, much of the Bronx was still being rebuilt. New tenements sprung up there and privileged members of society were allowed to enjoy those new areas with their better food, water and energy facilities. 

           The doctor and his family were recently moved out there, almost simultaneously with his appointment here. When I tried to get further information regarding them, I was immediately flagged as requesting classified data. Since most data flags are annoying and can often be wrong, I transmitted information that would reroute that signal to another terminal in the building and continued my investigation.

           The most damning thing was that the doctor's children did not attend any local schools in the city, anywhere. And when I searched for an occupation for the wife, nothing was listed. So I accessed their shopping lists and noted that no one in their family went outside to shop. Now, unbeknownst most people, every time you leave your home in our illustrious society, something notes your movement, by either an implant or an appliance you wear. The doctor's family did not move. Ever. And had not since they were relocated. That was all I needed to know.

           Skipping out between fat boy's legs was easy enough but there was something wrong with him. His heart rate was wrong, highly elevated and irregular. He was pasty and he appeared to be having trouble breathing. After he closed the door, I heard a crash and then no other movement. Normally, I would chalk it up to a bad lifestyle leading up to a bad ending, but there was something wrong with this. Once the door closed, I could not get health information, but I used a medical code override and triggered an alert with this technician's door  and zipped down the corridor back to the office I was supposed to be sitting in. Big man was no longer my problem.

           I tapped on the door to get Gorgeous Boy to open the door and he looked up, put down his compact and let me back in.

           "How did you get out?"

           "I walked."

           He stood there struck for a moment and then realized, "You are a robot, aren't you? You are realistic looking, I really thought you were a cat."

           "Wow, no fooling you, huh? Do you think you could take a look back there and see if my boy is ready?"

           Recovering his ennui and trying to look unaffected he said, "Sure thing. Flashing back."

           I hate the abuse of the language. But my database included a variety of slangs programmed from modern vids, so that I would be a better communicator with my charge. But Justin did not use much of the modern slang and I was grateful. It was always about being fast or being in sync or being smart and most of the people using it were never any of these things. As he turned away, I immediately followed in his path and as he opened the door into the chamber, I slid in behind him and caused the phone to ring. He reflexively turned around and headed back toward the phone. Never saw me and evidently once he realized no one was on the phone, he forgot my request to see the doctor as well. Short attention span. A wild animal should eat that one to keep him from breeding; never a tiger around when you need one.

           Once I entered the doctor's office, I noticed the immensity of the space and could hear Justin talking with the doctor deep in the office behind a series of curtains. I could hear a number of other voices, but most seemed to be coming from displays and were not people. I could only detect two scents in the room, so I knew I had the place to myself. Dropping down, I could see the doctor's feet beneath the curtains and made a path toward them. Justin was lying down on a table and answering questions as the doctor's diagnostic table took sophisticated biometric readings. I decided to take the direct approach. Finding a terminal with a cold beam access, I managed to find the office vox and transmitted my voice from every corner of the office.