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Slumrat Rising
Vol. 5 chap. 71 Veterinary Practice

Vol. 5 chap. 71 Veterinary Practice

Truth wasn’t quite sure how to process that. Other than- “Go Rats?”

Dr. Sun laughed bitterly. “Don’t give yourself too much credit. You were just the final wet fart that knocked over the tower of bullshit. Things hadn’t been adding up since long before you were born.”

Truth nodded. Then shook his head. “Look, before we get into all of that, I have to ask- are you actually a doctor? Because when we fought, you came off like some kind of sadistic torturer.”

“Oh, you really are young.” The doctor shook his head. Truth was momentarily transfixed, watching the goatee and ponytail going in opposite directions. “I’m both.”

“Both.”

“Mmmhmm. I don’t keep track, but about ten years ago I got an award saying that I was directly responsible for saving the lives of ten thousand people personally, and my research saved millions, globally. Part of the award speech was that three million was the lowest possible number, but the actual number was incalculable. That was at the time of the award, of course. It would be much higher now.”

Truth just stared. Dr. Sun rolled his eyes.

“One of the few advantages of a very long life is that, if you are leading an active, vigorous, public life, your actions can snowball enormously. In my case, I developed certain potions that allow organs to be transplanted between patients without any fear of rejection. The technologies that came from that work, things like novel treatments for blood diseases, an understanding of certain biological mechanisms and the like, are widely applicable. Essentially, I was able to remove the risk of spiritual contamination and the ensuing mutation risk from an extraordinary number of very ordinary illnesses. I won the Nephi-Xor Prize for that at twenty seven. Youngest ever, a record that still stands.”

He took a slow breath. “Not bad for a warm up. Since then I have put most of my attention on obstetrics and gynecology. I won’t bore you with the hundreds of tiny improvements I have made to spell bowl technology, surgical procedure, testing, diagnostics, materials, alchemical interactions within patients, particularly within pregnant patients and their highly complex and changing bio-alchemical makeup, and that’s not even a complete summary of what I achieved over the last seventy years. None of them were individually that significant, but I would say the cumulative effect knocked a solid five percent off the infant mortality rate in Jeon. Which, over millions of births is a hell of a number.”

The Doctor’s voice was very smooth. “And, not being a fool, I licensed the technology through a limited liability company established for that purpose. I am rich. I am, in all due modesty, the best doctor in the world. Everything I just said? Didn’t include a HIGHLY active clinical practice. I can say, without fear of serious contradiction, that the world has been a very slightly better place because I live in it. I’m Level Seven, making me an elite anywhere. Even in the event of a magical collapse, I’m going to survive. Hell, thrive! I have the mind for it. And none of what I just said matters.”

He cackled. There was a maddened edge to it that Truth recognized. “Not to the so-called true elites. I was just another hired hand.”

Truth nodded. “You went to all the parties, knew all the right people, Hell, you treated all the right people. Your network of contacts is the stuff of legends. But…”

“If I want a hospital built, no problem. If I want a research lab, no problem. Basically anything that requires opening their wallet, no problem. But ask them to do something that might affect their interests?”

“Or even reach out to you and let you know about a potentially fatal danger…”

“Suddenly they don’t even know me. Because they are scared. They are hungry, thirsty, petty little rats, distinguishable only by being fatter than the smaller rats.” The doctor’s grin was very wide. “It was that last little thing- I had always known they didn’t give a shit about the patients. Hell, there were periods, decades, where I didn’t either. But somehow, I always thought they gave a shit about me. I mean, if I’m not special, who is?”

Truth was going to make a crack about arrogance, but… “Fair.”

“I think I had known for a while. The first time I was asked to keep a high priority interrogation subject alive through enhanced interrogation, I was horrified. I refused, naturally. Same with the second, third, fourth, fifth times. But finally I said yes.”

“And then there was a next time. And it always got that little bit easier to say yes.”

“Exactly. The day I realized they didn’t even need to pay me, really, was a bad day. Most people don't get into medicine for the sheer love of keeping someone alive while their organs are individually dissolved in tuned acid. Something had to have made me want to hurt other people. Torture other people.”

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“Tuned acid?”

“Yes, not one of my projects, but some genius figured out that there are minute differences in the rate at which different organs dissolve in different acids. They therefore created a method to compute the correct composition for a given person’s organs, on a per organ basis, allowing for, well, tuned acid. Subject 1’s liver dissolves at X rate in Y ph acid, and so on.”

“Best country in the world, right here.”

“Credit where it’s due-”

“No, no I don’t think I will.” Truth gently shook his head. “No credit for that guy.”

Dr. Sun just snorted.

Silence pooled in the morgue. Eventually Truth smiled and pulled them back on track. “Rat doctor?”

“I was persuaded by your rat based thesis. What little of it you explained and what of it I could deduce.”

“Kind of you. I have spent most of my life developing it.”

That got another snort. “How old are you exactly?” The Doctor asked.

“I don’t know. Around twenty or twenty five.”

“How do you not know about a five year gap?”

“I was dead for a while.”

Dr. Sun gave Truth a searching look.

“I’m being literal. I was dead. My head was smashed in, I was fully submerged in water, I had been shot by a heavy needler round. Dead. Well, you know what all that’s like.”

“Yes, but I’m the locus of an insanely sophisticated spell engine that requires the active support of hundreds of thousands of people. You blatantly aren't.”

“How is that blatant? You don’t know. I could have the support of millions!” Truth grinned. “Millions I say!”

“Because we know our own. You seem to be a two person system, at best. Who’s that with you, anyway? They are keeping real quiet.”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“I can see two… call it ‘existences.’ Lives with spiritual meaning. Is it a parasite or spiritual clone or something?” Dr. Sun pointed at Truth’s waist.

“Oh. I… was scared to check on him. He’s still alive?”

“Yes? More alive than most people?”

Truth laughed happily, as he gently reached into his shirt and pulled out Perks.

“Perks, meet the greatest living doctor. Doctor Sun, meet the greatest living snake.”

“You have a pet snake?! How long have you had a pet snake for? Did you have a pet snake while we were fighting?”

“No no, Perks is new-ish. Picked him up in the mountains, promised the owner I would find him a good home. Because, HOO BOY am I a bad pet owner. Like… super bad. Not to talk myself down or anything, but I really feel like I’m just not fit to look after any sort of animal, let alone a fine snake like Perks.”

Who did, in fact, look fine. Truth had extremely keen eyes, and he didn’t see so much as a twinge of pain how Perks was moving. Not a single mussed scale. Which, since Truth crawled out of the playground on his belly, should be impossible, right?”

“Hey, doc, in addition to being the best at everything, are you also the best at being a vet? Because I’m actually worried about him.”

“Why the Hell would I know anything about snakes?”

“Why the hell do you have flying needles that reek of poison magic? Incidentally, don’t think I’m going to let you skate past that “Magical engine makes me unkillable” thing.”

“What skating? I’m just going to tell you to mind your own rotted business, Junior, and pass the damn snake. Can’t be any harder to figure out than my third concubine.”

“Your who now?” Truth handed the snake over.

“Briselda, my third concubine. Lovely woman, but very complex. Won't eat shellfish, but somehow “Oysters don’t count.”” Dr. Sun’s nimble fingers ran along Perks flanks. Truth was sure whatever those sharp old eyes were seeing was more than skin deep.

“I have heard a theory that mussels are more like fruit than fish.” Truth ventured.

“Exactly what she said! The lychee of the sea! Now, have you ever eaten anything that tasted less like a lychee than an oyster?”

“Not sure I’ve ever eaten a lychee. If I have, I don’t remember. How’s Perks?”

“As expected, less complicated than Briselda, though very nearly as interesting. From what I can tell, your snake appears perfectly healthy. At the very least, I’m not seeing anything obviously damaged. If anything, I would say it’s well on its way to being a demon.”

“What?”

“Well, demon in the sense of a spirit native to this planet. High density of cosmic radiation, but I’m not seeing any signs of mutation or the like.”

“That’s impossible! He was in the anomaly with me.”

“Was he really? Fascinating.” Sun dove back into his inspection.

“No, not fascinating, alarming! That place damn near killed me! Be worried.” Truth insisted. He didn’t know why, but somehow the thought of the doctor not taking his pet’s problems seriously scared him. To the point where he was getting angry.

“Easy, easy. I’ve got him. I’ve already checked for…” Dr. Sun’s voice trailed off. “It occurs to me that you probably don’t have the language to describe the effects of high concentrations of Cosmic Rays and what those different sorts of energy mean. And mean clinically. When I say that he is perfectly healthy, I mean that I see no evidence of sickness, sickness demons, no bleeding, no wounds internally or externally, no obvious imbalance of the humors, and no hidden pockets of excess cosmic energy that could lead to mutation or tumors later.”

The old man shrugged and gave the snake a little pat. “Looks fine. It looks like he's turning into a demon, which is generally a good thing. Give him a few thousand years, he might really be someone, assuming he can live that long. At the moment, he is just a very, very tough snake.”

Truth felt the relief flood through him, and he sagged a bit. “Good. Good. I haven’t known him for long, but I’ve become very fond of Perks.” And now he had even more questions. Were snakes truly the chosen species? They did seem to pop up everywhere. Did Perks get special treatment from the Serpent in the Sun?

“Mmm. Reminds me of my second concubine. You, not the snake. She loved snakes. Said they were an inspiration to her.”

Truth’s ear snagged on the past tense. “She died?”

The doctor recoiled. “What a horrible thing to suggest! She’s thriving, thank you very much!”

“So why doesn’t she like snakes anymore?”

“She spent six months on a witch guided spirit journey where she lived as a snake in some ancient jungle. Got the whole thing out of her system, apparently. Now she’s into pottery.”

“Ah. I was about to ask if you wanted to adopt him.”

“No.” Dr. Sun gave him an unkind look. “The world is ending, and I have enough dependents.”

“Ah. Damn.” Truth really, really needed to find Perks a home. He couldn’t imagine that taking the snake with him to kill Starbrite was any kind of a good idea. He didn’t think Dr. Sun was lying about his accomplishments. Not by what Merkovah said about him, or the way they bigged him up on the news. Contrary to what he had seen, Dr. Sun apparently was a genuinely good person, with a genuinely nightmarish coping mechanism.

Hmm. And undying. HMMM.

“Your “undying” thing going to survive the magical collapse?”

“Yep. And no, I’m not explaining it. Just… it runs on sacrifice, but I figured out how to make sure no one sacrifices too much.”

Truth had guessed as much. Which worked for what he had in mind.

“So I’m running a little experiment in encouraging people to be less shitty to each other. Altruism with benefits or something.”

“Millions wouldn’t believe you. I’m one of the masses.”

“No, no. You just said you were special. I believe in you.” Truth insisted.

“Of course you do, I’m extraordinary. You are a goddamn mass murderer on a nearly impossible to comprehend scale.”

“Right, yes, let’s make sure someone like me never comes into existence again, by changing the conditions that gave rise to me. I can be motivation, if you like.”

“Boy, what the Hell are you talking about?”

“Rat Doctor Sun, how would you like to leave the messy, smelly field of medicine, and start your own religion?”