The Wars That We Fight

Chapter Three

(Author's note: Wow! You're back! Yes, you, behind the phone screen. It's good to see you again. Thanks for your ongoing support! As always, remember to comment, and if you like this chapter, or even if you don't, please consider voting for it. Thanks!

- E and A)

Ward X. Authorized personnel only.

Gregory walked past the windowless double doors, glancing at the forbidding sign briefly as he walked towards Ward L. L for Long Term Care. Now that he was inside, Gregory saw just how unlike an Olegate hospital it was. The 'Ninth Sector Research Hospital' had locked, white doors, like those sequestering Ward X, rather than visitor centres and shops to buy get-well cards and flowers. There were no waiting rooms with cushioned chairs and smiling staff, but 'Processing Facilities,' which were run primarily by machines. When Gregory had heard that victims of the riot had been taken to this hospital, he first entered one of these Processing Facilities near its entrance. A computerized voice had instructed him in cold, mechanical words to take a number from the dispenser. After waiting for half an hour, his number was called, and he was directed to Service Machine Six at Station One, where there was a small screen on the wall, and several buttons beside it.

"State the nature of your presence," the same expressionless voice had instructed. "For physical illness, disease, or general discomfort, press one. For injury, press two. For psychological distress, press three. If you are a senior or a child, press four. If you are a researcher, investor, or Olegate on business, press five. If none of the above applies, press six. For physical illness, disease, or general discomfort, press one—"

Gregory had pushed down on six. A series of clicking throbs, and whirring machine-sighs ensued.

Then he was ordered, "Face the audio receiver to your left and announce your purpose."

"I want to know if Peg Arbeider is in your care."

"Your query is not recognized. Restate."

"I'm here to visit," he had clarified. More clicking responded.

At last, the machine had said, "Visiting is not recommended. This session is over. For further questions see Help Station Three." Then, more loudly, "Number seventy-three to Service Machine Six, Station One."

Gregory, frustrated, had moved towards Help Station Three just as number seventy-three had taken his place at Service Station Six. After waiting an indeterminate amount of time, a human face had appeared at the previously unoccupied desk behind the glass window of Help Station Three. The distant and acerbic woman who had come to help him had grown accommodating upon seeing his pin.

"We don't recommend visits but, for Olegates, we recognize that they are sometimes necessary, and therefore make an exception. Who are you visiting?"

Gregory had explained the situation, briefly, and was directed to Peg's location. He stepped away from the desk, his fears confirmed. Peg was there.

He now entered Ward L, pushing open the heavy doors and coming onto another hallway. The fluorescent lights fixed to the ceiling, as if restrained, flooded the space with white beams. They glimpsed off of the tiled floors, the colourless walls, and the numbers on doors, running across the hallway to find they were alone with Gregory. The rays seemed to be looking for Peg.

***

Tyler leaned against the yellowed wall in the hallway just outside his front door, and across from his neighbour's. The building where he lived had been a sizeable house, inhabited by a wealthy family before the war. When the city was divided into sectors, the estate had been split into several apartments. People in the Sixth Sector had long since forgotten its former luxuries. Kaia, who was bringing Tyler yesterday's newspaper, stood across from him. He rummaged sheepishly in his pocket, and placed the coupons he had removed from the last issue into her expectant palm.