Ch. 27: Do Some Good (Book 1 End)

Emily and I have a pretty good system worked out for my new requirement. With injection over drinking, the effect lasts slightly more than twenty-five hours, but I of course refresh the potion every twenty-four. She's rigged my suit to a timer that alerts me to when I need my dose, which I then make via a voice command. Emily has a small, barely noticeable attachment to my already existing system of injections that drops a pre-measured amount of copper wire and Emily's hair into what used to be Pod 5, along with siphoning a few drops of blood via the same needle it injects the potion with after completion. With testing, my power seems reluctant to count saying "Pod Five" as a substitute for actually mixing and injecting the ingredients by hand, but it eventually does relent and allow the process. It takes about twenty seconds total, which is pretty good, honestly.

A whole lot of headache, but it only took her two days to rig that beauty up. Her power clearly hasn't been affected in the least, the lucky duck.

These last two days have been a massive headache for literally everyone else, though. Especially me. I'm already getting tired of people trying to push me around now that they know the crazy man in the plague doctor costume is actually a scrawny, sickly-looking woman wearing an environmental suit. Michiko has had to kick a record number of asses the last couple days.

Sondersong actually came up with a solution for that, though. He and the rest of the Nightjars have started disseminating a calculated piece of disinformation: the suit protects everyone else from a neurotoxin my body passively emits. It's honestly genius, and I wish I had a better way to thank him than free care for life.

Besides the faint noise of construction on the recovery wing on the Apothecary, it's business as usual. It's startling how little has changed, really.

I watch as a man shuffles inside, flanked by two Kudzu toughs, the EViRT officers in the security room uneasily allowing the three in.

I stifle a yawn. "What's up?"

"Crux," comes the reply.

I could have guessed that, honestly. The typical red crosses have blossomed all over the guy, to the point I'm surprised he's still standing.

crux overdose, sand + saltwater + gold

"Sand, saltwater, gold," I mumble to myself as I direct the man to an open room. I start assembling the ingredients, and roll my eyes. "Oh, I get it. Buried treasure. X marks the spot. Very funny, asshole."

I come back over to the man with a syringe in hand, and inject him with it after a quick swipe of an alcohol swab.

The blood red, pulsing crosses slowly settle into the typical deep red scars of a crux user, the man shivering still even after his body is flushed of the stuff.

He gets up to leave, but I hold my hand up for him to wait. I want to test how far I can push my recently expanded power.

crux chemical dependency, syrup of ipecac + water + porcelain

So I can cure neurochemistry diseases like that now. That's incredibly helpful. I wonder if it would work on low serotonin levels...

I wish my power would relax with the sense of humor, though. Curing someone of a chemical dependency via puking into a toilet isn't really my idea of a good joke. Or even a joke, really.

I mix together the reagents, along with a second syringe for curing the scarring, and return to the room with an easy smile. "Okay, I'm gonna be trying something new. I might be able to cure the chemical part of your substance dependency, but you'll still have the neurological part. That okay?"

He swallows, and scratches one of his new and itchy scars. "I can't afford the cosmetic shit."

I shrug. "Ehh. Money's flowing in like water, lately, and I'm not in any rush. Oh, and come back in a week or two. I'm actually looking to hire a full-time counselor for this kind of thing, and hopefully I'll have someone by then."

After a nod, I give him the shots, and smile. "Okay, you're good to go. Check in with the front desk on the way out."

I watch him leave with his friends, profusely apologizing while they tear into him for hiding the addiction. He's lucky to have people who care.

"Hey, B- Vivian?" Ishfaq's voice calls into my helmet.

"What's up?" I reply.

"You've got a visitor."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

"Uhh... Someone named Porter?"

I feel my eye twitch. "Is that right? Michiko, if you'd escort him over?"

"On it," comes the reply in my HUD. It takes a few moments, but she eventually drags him over, where he is very clearly trying to fight against her grasp. She pushes him onto the exam bed, and locks the door, leaving the three of us alone.

I fold my arms, and sit down on top of the cabinets. "I told you, I don't want anything to do with the politics anymore."

He rubs his arm where Michiko dragged him, and I can see it already starting to bruise. "That's why I'm here, you dumb bitch. If you're not in the game anymore, then you're not in a position to refuse us. You're just another doctor, not some kind of underground vigilante, and I'm willing to bet you can't stop me from sending people here. Right?"

A smile spreads across my lips, and he scowls. I'll have to get used to people seeing my facial expressions again, it seems. "You get why that's really god damn pathetic, right?"

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm pretty sure a lesbian with quite possibly the single worst auto-immune disorder on the planet isn't exactly Reich-material. I mean, damn, you must be desperate if you're coming to me."

He averts his eyes. "Just answer my question."

"I mean, I could, but I dunno if I should be speaking to the master race as if we're equals. If we're not equals, then surely you have people better suited to help than me."

"Shut the fuck up, and just tell me if I can send people here or not."

I shrug. "Okie-dokie. Send people if you want, but I'm going to tell every single one of you all of that beforehand, and make sure they know that you guys have a doctor, too. After all, I want them seeing the best physician for their needs, and surely they-"

"Would you shut the fuck up? You talk way too much, fa-"

Michiko grabs him by the arm, which shuts him up fast.

"And further," I continue, savoring his nervous sweat, "you should know that if a single member of my staff is so much as touched by any of your cretins... well, I kept the costume, and I've made a lot of friends in EDR lately. Just so you know." I allow myself a little more smirking as Michiko releases him, and lets him scurry out of the Apothecary. Sure, I'm probably not going to change any minds, but this is going to be incredibly funny. I think I can live with the fact that the people who would want me dead would literally die without me. The irony is so exquisite that even a skinhead could see it.

Probably, anyway. They aren't the brightest people.

I step back through the decontamination room at the end of the day, waving goodbye to Michiko and Ishfaq as they leave together. Ishfaq usually leaves about half an hour before Michiko. I smile to myself. Good for them.

I watch the gasses encircle my suit, and hang it up after stepping through into my home. It smells different in here, strangely enough. More extant, as though I'm outside, almost. I may have sworn off outdoorsy smells before, but I'm not going to argue about them now.

"Hey, Em, is there a new air freshener or something in here?" I ask, taking in the ambiance.

She isn't around, it seems, given by her absence in all of our rooms. Nothing abnormal. She's been coming and going a lot lately while consulting on the construction. Fine with me, I have a ton of emails to go through anyway.

Ed was kind enough to start sending out probes for potential hires. It's such a dramatic change from how I was when all this started. I remember that during the fight with Taxus, EDR scared the hell out of me. Now, I have EDR literally working to support me. I'm starting to think that maybe, just maybe, I'm going to be okay.

I sink into the couch, the cushion forming around my butt like it always does. Somehow, I'm finally relaxed. I take a deep breath, and take out my phone, ignoring the emails and texts and putting on some music instead.

How long has it been since I've had a moment to myself? All of my free time has been spent with Emily, and even though I love her to death, it's nice to have this. Just music and my thoughts.

My thoughts...

I forgot how dark my thoughts could be. I don't think I've processed the death of my mother yet, let alone really come to terms with my new reality. So much has changed since I got my power... maybe that's why I was Beaker. I was trying to be someone else, someone who wasn't burdened by the pain around her.

I'm interrupted from my moping by a quartet of familiar faces in the decontamination chamber. Seems Emily had rounded up the gang to hang out tonight after all.

Seeing them all here, and the mask now mounted proudly on the wall... I should let them in. It'll do me some good, I think.