Ch. 10: Pigeon Milk & Thermal Paste

A few hours later, around three, a man in an expensive looking shirt and a ridiculously expensive looking watch walks through security, clutching his wallet through his pocket like it's about to run free. He's obviously not local, which means word of the Apothecary must be spreading... He doesn't seem to have gotten the full picture, though. Once he sees myself, Catalyst, and Solvent, he takes a few hesitant steps back, looking over his shoulder towards the door.

"Lockdown," I say, forcing every door in the building to immediately snap shut and engage the magnetic locks. I'm not letting this shark go free until I get his fins...

He starts trying to open the door by fruitlessly yanking on the sliding metal, turning around at me in terror and backing into the shuttered entrance. "Wait, please, I made a mistake, I'm sorry, I-"

"Rest easy, good sir," I say, casually sitting down on the front desk. "You find yourself amongst friends. I, of course, am known as Beaker. You did not stumble blindly into my apothecary. None do."

He takes a couple breaths. "I... I just..."

fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva, pigeon milk + tetrafluoroboric acid + fulgurite + rough diamond + epinephrine

"Ahh, fascinating. Your connective tissues are turning to bone. A rare disease."

His fear is slowly replaced by wary intrigue. He steps forward, as if to touch me and see if I were a figment of his mind. "You... you're the real deal," he says.

"Indeed. I shall cure you... assuming you can incentivize me to do so, of course."

"Ten... twenty thousand?" he offers, eyes focused on the tip of my beaked mask.

Such easy prey. "Show my assistant Catalyst your timepiece, good sir, that he may verify its value."

He grimaces. "It... it was a gift. I didn't buy it."

I glance over at Solvent, who shakes her head. I again focus on the new client. "Now, now. My sentinel Solvent can detect falsifications. She does not appreciate them, a facet we share. Consider your next offer carefully. I only intend to decline a single time more. I have other patients who value their health more than you seem to..."

"...t-two... two and a half million. That's all I can do, but if you give me time-"

"Two and a half million. Solvent?" She turns to me, and nods rapidly. She's not doing a great job hiding her excitement.

"Then our deal is struck, my friend. End lockdown." The doors hiss open, the man still standing by them. "I will need some time to gather the appropriate reagents. Return in three days."

"Yes. Of course. I'll be here." He backs up, before turning around and speedwalking away and into the security room as the doors close behind him.

I face my team, and see Solvent signing rapidly to the point I can barely follow it, relying on the text translation at the bottom of my visor. As expected, she's talking about the money, saying its a huge windfall, that line of thought. Catalyst, though, is waiting for me to give him the upcoming shopping list.

"So... bad news, team. This one's a doozy. Pigeon milk, tetrafluoroboric acid, fulgurite, a rough diamond, and epinephrine."

Catalyst groans. "What the hell is pigeon milk?"

"Pigeons make it to feed their chicks. You two are going to have to go find a pigeon nest and kidnap one of the parents... fulgurite shouldn't be too hard to track down at any shiny rock store. I actually have rough diamond shavings already, same with epinephrine. That just leaves the acid... Welp. Looks like I'm making a house call."

Vigilantes aren't paragons of virtue. They come into conflict with actual sanctioned heroes fairly regularly. I myself had a close call with one called Barkbite a few months ago when we both went after the same person, though for different reasons. Thankfully, my mask deafened his incredibly loud screams for the most part, letting me escape.

Still, even if this is arguably justifiable, I feel a bit conflicted infiltrating an electroplating company. It has to be done, though, and so I shall. I walk up, and push on the door, followed immediately by pulling on the door. Once opened, I step inside. It's a clean place in a strip mall, hardly anything noteworthy. It gives off the air of the DMV or a post office, like no one really wants to be here. Two customers are sitting, there's one person behind the counter, and a security guard too.

The security guard takes one look at the outfit and immediately draws a gun. That's concerning...

"Good evening, fine folks of Velocity Electroplating. I am known as Beaker, a physician and chemist, and I bring with me no malice nor ill intentions."

The guard takes a step towards me, gun pointed at me. It's like people purposefully don't listen to me. Maybe its the mask.

"No. Not having a cape here, whatever you're planning," he says.

excessive sweating, sa-

Nope. I dismiss that, it's too inconsequential. It seems my trick of solving people's problems isn't going to work here. "My fellow, I have only come to purchase a specific reagent I require on short notice. I, of course, am flush. I am willing to-"

"Last warning, before I start shooting." His eyes say he's not joking, and his very lethal looking pistol is pointed at my head. Since when do store security guards pull guns? Dudek really has gone downhill, if a damn electroplating company needs armed security...

Maybe the front desk guy has something?

seasonal allergies, water-

Damn it.

"As you wish, sir. I bid you all good day."

With a dramatic bow and sweep of the cape, I leave the way I came. I didn't expect him to point a gun at my head. Still, there's one other electroplating place within the city, though its pretty damn far from any subway station...

Seeing someone jog towards from on my HUD, I reflexively raise my cape and get ready to throw a potion. Surprisingly, it's one of the two customers instead, a larger woman who is looking me over as she starts to speak.

"Hey! Wait! You said physician? Like a doctor? Is that just a gimmick?"

arthritis, gravel + water + lead paint

"If you seek an arthritis cure, I can refer you to the location of my clinic, madame."

She nods vigorously. "Okay, you're definitely a doctor. Look, it's my son. He's at Dudek, they say they don't know what-"

"I cannot enter hospital grounds and practice medicine, self-evidently." I cross my arms. It's awful, but anyone there seeing me use my power will know who I am instantly.

"Please, I can help with whatever you need from Velocity, my husband is friends with the owner, I'll do anything. What do you need? Money? Something electroplated?"

Unless...

"Wait outside the hospital tomorrow at nine. I will contact you."

"Of course. Whatever you want. I'll be there at eight, just in case." She starts walking back inside.

It's kind of funny, realistically. I'm pla-

Unexpectedly, I find myself on the ground. Big hole in the sidewalk I tripped on. There was a crunch of some kind.

I look under my coat. A couple bottles broke, but since it wasn't my intent, they didn't activate. I frantically brush away the broken glass. Nothing of note, no holes.

Sighing of relief, I push myself back up. Why's my glove so shiny, though?

Oh. It's blood.

Small tear, loose piece of muddy wood embedded in a finger, basically just a sharp, dirty splinter. The suit is thinnest around my hands for the purpose of dexterity...

A series of six warning lights pop up in my HUD. I'm too far to walk back, it's over half an hour, even if I were to get someone to pick me up.

"WAIT!" I yell at the woman walking back inside.

"I need to get somewhere as fast as you can drive right fucking now. Do that, and I swear I'll save your child."

I focus on damage control as she frantically drives. I rip out the splinter, take out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, and stick my finger directly into it. That should keep it from getting worse, as I look into the reflection of the rear view mirror, heart pounding.

total immune sys-

Skip.

tetanus infection, iron + water + any bone + any tooth

proteus mirabilis infection, AA battery + honey + any fish + vinegar

acinetobacter infection, aluminum + tempered glass + thermal paste

Fucking thermal paste?!

common cold, sugar + cinnamon + human hair

mild tissue damage right index finger-

I rip out my phone, calling Emily, who doesn't pick up. I call again. And again.

"Jesus, what?" she asks, slightly annoyed that I'm bothering her at work.

"Thermal paste. Need it, know you have it. Suit puncture."

She hangs up, as my heart starts to race. I have no idea how long I have.

The woman taking me home finally pulls up alongside the entrance to my clinic. I push open the door, still holding my finger in the alcohol, pushing past someone waiting for me outside the clinic as I rush into my lab, one-handedly grabbing what I need and sticking it into a pocket before darting through the decontamination chamber. As the gasses do their thing, I pull off the suit, trying desperately to stay calm, and wait the agonizing seconds before the door opens.

There's no swelling, no warmth, no typical hallmarks of infection. Without an immune system, there's very few symptoms between "virus has just entered" and "virus has completely eaten your body."

I go into the small lab within my house, and quickly start mixing what reagents I have together, and inject them immediately. I look into the mirror, and see if I contracted anything else in the meantime.

total im-

Skip.

acinetobacter infection, aluminum + tempered glass + thermal paste

mild tiss-

Okay. Just the thermal paste. Just need thermal paste.

Emily is there five minutes after I am, panting in the decontamination chamber, until she goes through and hands me an open tube of thermal paste. I shakily pour it in with the others, and drink it, looking back into the mirror.

total i-

mild tiss-

left-

scar-

I sob in relief, falling into Emily's tight hug, leaving me crying into her greasy work overalls.

Fuck. That was so close. So god damn close. If that lady wasn't there, or if I hadn't been bleeding, or any number of things...

I've been told my dispower is actually more complicated than just not having an immune system to fight things. My body actively seems to nurture illnesses, feeding them like it would is own processes. The upshot is incubation periods practically don't exist.

I'm just glad to be alive, as Emily gets to work patching my suit.

I wait patiently at the guest check-in desk with my new friend, Maria Garcia. She anxiously looks through my clear, full-face visor, and I give a tired but reassuring smile. She saved my life yesterday, I'll be damn sure to save her child's.

Jim, the security guard at the front desk, doesn't seem thrilled to see me. "Dr. Amsel, you know this isn't a good idea, right?"

"Yeah... I know. I'm just here with a friend for emotional support."

He grinds his teeth a bit, before giving me a visitor's pass. "Please don't cause trouble."

"I would never." With a wink, I follow her to the elevator. A few passing staff are surprised to see me, and most are pleasantly so. I get a handful of sly smiles that say 'I won't tell' as I gratefully smile in return. I don't need to be here long.

The elevator ride feels slower than normal. I tap my foot a few times, waiting patiently until I feel the elevator stop on the fourth floor.

I follow behind her, nodding respectfully at the others in pediatric medicine, as she leads me into the room.

Her son is intubated, hooked up to several gray and blinking machines, contrasting with the colorful walls of the room covered in cartoon animals. I gently lean down next to her unconscious son.

black fever, any multivitamin + diatomaceous earth +

"AMSEL!" Startled, I whip around to see Kinsey's face, bright red with rage. He's already accompanied by Jim, too. Someone must have ratted me out.

I calm myself down. I've already won. "Hello, Director. I'm just visiting."

"Where's your bag?!"

"If you mean my ingredients, I didn't bring it. I'm not going to do anything, in fact."

"Then why are you-"

Maria takes both mine and Kinsey's hands, pulling us out of the room. "Let's not scream with my son in the room."

I nod. "I'm sorry, Maria."

Kinsey is three inches from my face, spewing a few drops of saliva onto my visor as he harshly whispers. "You do not work here. You never did. Remember?"

"Of course. And I wouldn't dare practice medicine in your hospital. Out of curiosity, Maria, have you been to Brazil lately?"

"My husband has..." she says, watching Kinsey.

"Director, have you heard of the drug miltefosine?"

"...go to hell. VL, my ass."

"Not your ass. The kid's. Well, this was a lovely visit. Thank you for your time." I let Jim grab me by the arm and escort me out of the building, giving a thumbs up to Maria.

"Sorry for causing trouble, Jim," I say, as he lets go of me as soon as I'm out of sight of Kinsey.

"Saving a kid in exchange for a lecture is a pretty good deal. If anyone asks, I'm the hero." He snorts at his own joke.

It's nearing the end of the second of the three days we have to get the acid I need. If Maria doesn't show, then we have plan B, which consists of Michiko buying a crowbar.

Right as I'm treating the last patient for the day, Maria almost trips on her way in while running. "Thank god, I'm so sorry, I got lost and had to-"

"Madame, have I fulfilled my obligation?" As awkward as it is after showing her my name, face, and where I used to work, not to mention saving my life, I can't break character in front of patients. Especially the Bleeding Heart gangsters, who are as deep in the dark as possible when it comes to me.

She nods, eyes bloodshot from crying recently. "You were right. He's already responding to the treatment. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Tis my duty. Now, have you procured the requested reagent?"

She digs around in her purse, offering me an amber colored bottle. "Here. I hope whatever you use it for goes well... doctor."

"Beaker. I am known as Beaker." I take it, and go to organize it in my lab. I hate how close I just came to breaking into an electroplating company to steal a specific acid. That has to be the most stereotypical villain plan I've ever heard. At least Ishfaq and Michiko got the fulgurite and pigeon milk.

The next morning, as soon as we open, one person waiting for us. The man we did all this for, who refuses to give his name, enters and sits on my exam table after I direct him. Exam room 3, specifically, because it's soundproof. Not that I need to tell him that.

I already confirmed with Ishfaq that he actually had the money, and he sent half in advance. Now, I just need to administer the cure. I hold the syringe, filled with a black liquid, within my hand. I am hesitating a bit, though...

"My fellow, are you certain you wish to proceed without an anesthetic?"

"Yeah. I've had bad reactions in the past... No offense, but I'm not convinced that any of them are safe, despite what you've said. I mean, every doctor I went to-"

"I am a doctor, sir, and I highly advise against this."

"Yeah, but I mean an actual doctor."

I inject him with the liquid, and lock the door behind me as I leave. Maybe he should have seen an 'actual' doctor to miraculously turn his bone back into muscle. Asshole.

After around five minutes, I open the door to him passed out on the floor, drenched in sweat and in a puddle of urine. Damn it, I didn't think of that... It wasn't intended to punish me, too, but I don't have anyone here with EVS training. Maybe I need to hire an actual janitor.

This team is starting to get a little big, now that I think about it. I leave the door closed for the moment, before going to Catalyst. He's currently trying to suss out how much someone else can pay.

"You." I point to the woman talking with Catalyst. "Are you willing to labor as janitorial staff for eighty thousand a year, tax-free, no questions asked?"

She shakes her head.

"Charge her appropriately, Catalyst." How to find a janitor...

More pressing, though, is Solvent standing in front of me, signing slowly, so I can read it straight from her.

"I can double my pay by cleaning?" she signs.

Oh, right. I never told her what I'd actually be paying her, and I haven't actually given Solvent her first paycheck.

"You thought you were making forty thousand? You make one hundred thousand a year plus bonuses. I do not underpay employees."

She freezes in place, hands frozen in the middle of saying something. I pat her on the shoulder as I go to brood while cleaning up after the guy who passed out.

While I'm in the middle of dumping kitty litter on the floor, I get a phone call to one of my two burners. The one I give only to important people, from an unknown number. I lock myself in my lab, and answer it.

"Speech to text off. Good morrow, you have reached the proprietor of the Apothecary."

"Yeah. I know." Kingfisher.

"Ahh, Sir Kingfisher, how might I aid you?"

"You really stick to character, huh? You've been summoned. We're having a bit of a meeting. Gil will pick you up tomorrow at noon."

"I see. Perhaps with advanced notice, next time, I-"

"Cut the shit. We don't ask for much. The 'we' here means more than Kudzu. Just so you know."

"...very well, then." I hang up, and go back to pouring kitty litter as the man wakes up, shaking. Maybe next time he'll think twice before insulting the person saving his life.