The metallic scent of blood fluttered into my nose as I entered through the sliding door of the BLED Community Hospital. It was stronger than anticipated, or was it the volume?
Blood never bothered me, hell I’ve killed to survive in my early years of patrolling the Antillean Borders, in the Waste. But this? This was a massacre if I’d ever seen one.
The front lobby of the hospital was swarmed with smogged-clothed police officers drenched in dried blood. It made me question what the Imbibe was going on in the city.
Multiple screams of men and women danced in the air of the lobby, as officers hugged their brothers-in-arms, howling at their deaths.
Doctors and Nurses tried pulling them free, escorting them to another spot, but they weren’t having it.
All I saw were pension credits adding up because if an officer gets injured, he could retire, with a full pension. Not a bad gig. The bastards already get a sweet 1.3% Tax Rate. They have their whole salary to themselves.
The bad? The corporate world pays the bulk of the taxes, which meant the majority of Bridge City pulls the weight. If I were to judge the economy as an uneducated onlooker, I’d say that 60% of the generated money in the Antillean Federation came from the Private Industry, whilst 40%came from Government work.
I guess that’s why money laundering is a big thing here. It’ll also get you killed, capital punishment for crimes against the state.
As I sifted through the lobby, I dodged at least three gurneys and almost slipped on the crimson-splattered floors. The blood-soaked mop was a travesty to see in the hands of the janitor who seemed to be battling his war.
I made my way to the front desk. A frantic nurse was answering calls, and directing different ambulances to various hospitals across the City. What is the IMBIBE is going on? I asked myself, completely stupefied by this revelation, is Bridge City under siege?
“I’m looking for Donat Azalias?” I asked the nurse, who finally had time to look at me.
She eyed me with buckets of sweat trickling down her face. “Who?” she asked, confused by the name.
“Donat Azalias,” I repeated.
“That doesn’t sound familiar are you sure he’s supposed to be here?”
“I’m sure.”
Confusion flashed across Lita’s face. Her name was printed in bold on a pin she wore on her chest. She typed away on a holo-keyboard, trying her best to locate the Medical Examiner.
Another nurse, Paula came scuttling across the floor tapping the desk, “I’m looking f—“ she said, but looked up noticing the other nurse. “Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the back helping Pena?”
“I was asked to fill in here,” Lita answered.
“Get down to the back and help Peta, I’ll man here till Justine comes back.”
Lita darted off leaving me feeling quite frustrated. I wanted to leave this morbid place as fast as possible and hopefully get some rest.
“Sir.” Paula said to me, “I don’t know who are you, I’m sure what you’re here for is a BIG emergency, but as you can see, things aren’t that good. So I would request that you find your way to another hospital.”
“Not here to be fixed up. Here to see Donat Azalias.”
“Donat…Azalias?” Paula asked. “Why does that name…wait a minute, he retired five years ago. I’m sorry sir, but Donat’s not here.”
“Understood.”
I moved out of the way and sent a message to Commissioner Hexan, explaining my predicament. I thought it was best because based on the bloodbath that was outpouring here, she was probably knee-deep in shit from the aftermath of whatever event transpired.
Paula called me over, panting heavily and skin looking paler than it did a few minutes ago, “Mr Cypher?”
“That’s me,” I answered.
“Take the left down the corridor, the third elevator on your right, pull the pin and type in 864 on the keypad: that’s the room you’ll be heading to in the morgue. Don’t get lost.”
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“Thanks,” I said smiling ruefully.
I found the elevator right where Paula had told me. I pulled the pin and punched in the code and made my way to the morgue.
Basement Floor Five the sign read upon the elevator doors opening. I made a right, exiting the elevator. The corridor was grey, dimly lit and felt as if concrete walls were ready to swallow me alive. It was very congested, how did they even get the gurneys with the bodies pushed through here?
The scent of Room 864 was feint putrid and very cold. Hell, I barely breathed out and saw the fog from my breath trickle past my eyes. The corners of the room were lit with LED lights. I liked the unique design. In the centre were four circles forming a hatch of some sort. In front of those was a data table with a glowing holopad, and stools in front and behind it. There was a magnifying lens on the desk that was covered in frost. “No one hasn’t been here in ages,” I said to myself.
I waited for fifteen minutes before Donat Azalias came through the door. He jumped the living daylights out of me. “Apologies for my tardiness…but as you can see it's raining blood in our fine City!” Donat said. Well. I assumed he was Donat anyway.
“Dr Donat Azalias?”
“Yes, yes, it’s me, don’t worry. The commissioner gave me strict instructions to report directly what we discover to her, so no need to worry.”
“Right…”
The medical examiner scuttled across in his weird outfit pulled the stool behind him and typed as fast as anyone I’d ever seen. “Questions?” He added after finishing typing. I shook my head, but his shoulders slumped. “Your face betrays you.”
“You haven’t looked at me yet,” I answered, confused.
“My dear EXiCON,” Donat said, “I saw you the moment I came in with your sleeveless arm.”
“Sleeveless?”
I looked at my cybernetic arm, noticing I left my sleeve home, feeling quite aggravated. No wonder everyone looked at me funny in the lobby just now. “Didn’t realise I left home without it.”
“Clearly. Anyway, just because my eyes don’t match yours doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention. BTW, I probably have better eyes than you,” He added.
“Probably,” I said, grinding my teeth.
“Don’t take it the wrong way, lad, but as this was my previous profession, I was paid to pay attention to scientific details you wouldn’t even know.”
“Previous profession?” I asked confused.
“Yes…lad, I’m a retired ME, I’m only here because the commissioner wants this hush and because the backlog BLED has it doesn’t allow her to pull anyone from their cases. If so. She’d have to deal with the BLED Union, and that, son…is not something you’d wanna deal with.”
“BLED Union? I thought the Police didn’t have a union. They don’t, in theory, but they do, in action. There’s always someone who leads when they don’t like something. Always remember that.”
“Interesting…”
“Is it?” he said, turning his eyes from the holopad.
The light that illumed from the keyboard flashed across Donat’s face, lighting up his chin, cheeks and nose. His eyes were light brown and the bangs from the wig he wore, made him seem archaic or was that because of the outfit he wore?
Donat pushed himself from the stool, turning around and pressing the wall, it opened up and a mist sprayed against his hands, then he wiped them clean. A section of the wall opened up and a pair of gloves dropped from the opening, like a shoot.
“Where are the bodies?” I asked.
“The bodies are on their way, just had to type in the case number.”
“Figured they’d be here already.”
“Nah, they’re in storage,” Donat answered.
“Storage?”
“You thought the numbers the Commissioner spat were honest? Son…the crime rate is 40% in Bridge City, not that measly 12.5% she claims. Hell, there’s been a backlog of dead bodies for years. Do you know how many cold cases we’ve mounted over the years?”
“That’s…”
“Messed up? Welcome to my world.” Donat laughed.
“Wait a minute, aren’t you the Commissioner’s ally why are you divulging this to me?”
“Ally? That bitch pushed me out of my fucking JOB! The only reason called is because she needed someone she could put her foot against their throat!”
“She has something on your...doesn’t she?”
“Humph, you’re a sharp one. Word of advice...don’t trust Hexan, she’s a snake, rat and a crow ALL wrapped up in one.” Donat spat, white wig tilting to the side of his head, as he snapped his head towards me. His light brown eyes gleamed brightly as he pierced my soul with invisible laser beams.
“Crow?” I asked confused.
“Pre-Imbibe bird…supposedly represents evil.”
“Is that what you call what you’re wearing? Pre-Imbibe?”
“This? Yes, this is Pre-Imbibe fashion it was quite fashionable many millennia ago.”
“I see. It looks foolish.”
“For the uneducated, it would, but not for me.”
Uneducated? You know nothing of me Doctor…you don’t even know what I’ve done for this Antillea itself…asshole.
I didn’t say anything, but I took in what the doctor said. The upper echelon of the Antillean Federation had access to certain things. History records, materials...things that never made it to regular people.
One time I entered a General’s office, he had a huge skull, for an animal I couldn’t even recognise. Claiming it was a Pre-Imbibe animal, called a Tyrannosaurus Rex, which reminds me. I have to ask Rex if that’s where he got his name.
I watched Azalias pace back and forth, hands behind his back, waiting for something to happen.
The medical examiner wore a white linen undershirt, with a purple doublet over it, Yellow and brown breeches with blue stained shoes and no LEDs insight.
It did look like it was from another century or millennia. The wig had a cotton-like scent, which didn’t seem like cotton. I just couldn’t put my tongue on the word to properly describe it.
One thing is for sure, it was Alien to me.
A loud groan bellowed beneath and several clicks followed as if something below us were being snapped into place. The holokeypad changed colours and Donat ran over. “Good… it's close.” He said.
A huge hiss of air bellowed from the centre of the room and cold wind floated from two of the hatches that lay on the floor. In a few moments, two capsules attached to an arm rose from the hatches and levelled themselves.
The colour of the capsules was white. They didn’t have anything written on them, but based on how they looked, they were probably preservation capsules.