Gods Under The Dome

23.1

《Now or Never》

¤

The Med Bay is a fully outfitted medical facility, occupying an entire wing of the Capitol building. Masters had led us down several winding corridors and two separate lifts before we'd arrived at the frosted glass doors, proclaiming, in neon red, the beginning of the Medical Bay.

At his prompting, which involves a seven-digit pin and retinal scan, they slide open, welcoming us into a room that reminded me all too well of my time back at the Facility. The walls were that same sterile white, the overhead lights the awful fluorescent-kind that make my eyes water. The air reeks of lemon, which is doing a poor job of masking the stench of harsh chemicals. Bleach, in particular, comes in heavy waves, accosting my senses and causing me to gag.

"Ah, just like home." I mutter the words to a disinterested Quint and oblivious Mars. Masters must not have heard me, or doesn't much care as he directs us toward a row of cushioned chairs.

A woman sits behind the desk, despite their being an automated kiosk in the lobby for fast and impersonal service. She's a large woman, a creature carved from a tree trunk, with thick limbs and bark-like skin. We've been seated here for five minutes now and she's only glanced at us once, over the tops of her half-moon glasses, to sneer and give us a disapproving nod.

Masters stands guard in the corner, though what he's really doing is flipping through some kind of virtual catalogue.

Making sure he's engrossed in Net surfing and the clerk is too busy fussing with her nails, I start to slide the pill bottle out of my pocket.

Marava, who sits straight as a board, messing with her own set of talons, quirks an eyebrow.

I shake my head and take the bottle out enough for her to see it.

"Drugs?" she mouths.

This is enough to capture Quint's attention. "What are you--"

I cough, loudly, which causes the woman behind the counter to glower. She raises her head, her beady eyes looking over the tops of her glasses as she eyes each of us, incredulous, before she sniffs the air like she's a bloodhound whose caught whiff of some conspiracy. Marava matches the woman, glare for glare, while Quint just fiddles with his thumbs. I lower my head, keeping my hand as still as I can so I don't bring attention to what's in my pocket.

After a few seconds, the woman returns to her important task of tapping her nails on her desk, while a holo-player flits between Council-sanctioned images of the nation's two-hundred Aviaries. Masters doesn't bother to look up from the catalogue. I take the opportunity to disguise the popping of the bottle top off with another cough and pour several small, orange pills into my palm.

"What are those for?"

Leaning over, I say, "Nol gave them to me. They're to help me stay awake."

"And why--"

Marava kicks at Quint's heel which is enough to get him to shut up. I shift in my seat, trying to look as natural as possible while bridging the gap between us.

"Guards will be accompanying us outside." Quint shrugs as if this were common knowledge. Which it was, but wasn't really the point. I continue, "They weren't given any orders to make sure we saw outside."

Marava's eyebrows arch. Somehow, I could always count on her seeing the big picture. "So they'll kill us?" Blunt as always.

I nod. "That's what I've gathered." I eye Masters. "He can't wait to unload on me."