Wendel was surveying the land as they approached Uriel. The ground looked like a patchwork quilt, and as they landed he could see that the colors were from different bushes and plants scattered across the blinding white surface. Everything about this place seemed inhospitable, the plants had a spiny look about them, and roaming between the buildings, goats were the only wildlife he could see. They were mostly eating the dead plants, but one was efficiently gnawing at the clothing of the corpses that littered the paths.
A dry wind swept through the red adobe walls, and Wendel’s face was covered in dust and grit. They were walking in near silence only broken by an undulating drone that grew louder and softer with the wind. There was a dusty smell in the air. Dr. Mendes was ahead of him, she had walked past many of the corpses, and not stopped for a closer look. She seemed to be counting them, as they had circled the village now, and were almost back to where they had landed.
“Two-hundred and seventy-three lives. No sign of a struggle, no blood anyway. It looks like some of them tried to flee, but didn’t get far. Any thoughts?” She was kneeling now, near the body of a man of maybe thirty years who was face down in the loose sand.
“Disease maybe?” The sun was setting in the distance to the west, and the buildings cast long shadows now, “Some sort of fast acting plague. The plants around here all look dead too, so maybe it got into the ground as well.”
She looked up at him quizzically from where she kneeled by the body, “The plants aren’t dead.”
Wendel felt rebuked, but only mildly. The plants certainly looked dead, but perhaps anything that could grow from this heat drenched earth would have to look dead. The heat radiated from the ground, and everywhere he looked he was blinded. The ground was bright from the afternoon sun, and if he looked into the distance a shimmering haze emanated from the bleached sands. If he looked up, the sky seemed to be a pale blue and no matter where in the sky he looked the sun bore into his eyes like a hot knife. He was beginning to feel faint.
“Help me carry him inside one of the buildings so I can do an examination properly.” Wendel was grateful at the mention of indoors, and hurried to help her lift the dead man. This was, he realized, the first time he had ever touched a dead person, the anatomy classes at the U and the autopsy courses had not been his chosen electives. The building they carried him into seemed to be a combination shop and house, the walls were almost the same color as the ground outside, and the floor was covered in loose straw. There was a countertop covered in some textiles and tools, and Dr. Mendes made her way towards it. Unceremoniously she swept everything off the counter with her forearm, and Wendel helped her heft the man onto the table.
It was still quite bright inside, but the sun was not the overwhelming force it had been outside. The wind whistled in the doorway, scattering the straw. Dr. Mendes produced her short belt knife and began cutting at the man’s clothing, in a few quick moments she had him completely stripped. Wendel gaped and the speed with which she had done this. She cast off her travel packs, and began rummaging until she produced an instrument in a careful, small sheath. Making her way over to the body on the countertop, she removed the sheath and began making a incisions in the man’s chest. Wendel had expected blood, but there was almost none. With the ease of practice, she cut a perfectly symmetrical Y into the dead man’s chest, and pulled back his skin like peeling a gruesome fruit. Wendel looked away, stifling himself from retching.
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“Hand me my bone saw and rib cutters.” She commanded, and obediently Wendel turned to her pack. It seemed to him that there were many more objects to rummage through than could possibly fit inside it, and after a few moments of unsuccessful searching, Dr. Mendes’ shadow loomed over him. “Wendel, you’ve assisted in an autopsy before?”
“No, I, er, didn’t take those electives.” He stammered as she reached past him and immediately revealed two very vicious looking instruments, a powerful looking set of shears with a rounded tip and a short saw with strange handle made of two holes that looked like would fit a hand and fingers perfectly.
“Electives! Basic anatomy and medical examinations are now electives! I’ve been in the field too long.” She spoke offhandedly, returning to the man flayed on the countertop like so much butchered meat. With every snap, Wendel knew she was cutting through his ribs, and he wanted desperately to watch but couldn’t find the stomach so he stood off to the side looking at the room. There was no sign of a struggle, nothing was broken or taken, not that there was much to take. Mostly it seemed to be clothing and simple tools, behind the counter was a decorative hanging mat that partitioned a back room. Wendel assumed it must be either for storage or perhaps living quarters for the proprietor.
“Well this is strange, there’s residue on the inside of his lungs. Looks biological in nature, that explains the lack of a thaum field, I’ll collect a sample for analysis and then.” Her words were cut off by a deafening chiming emanating from inside her pack.
The sound was high and urgent. It echoed in the enclosed space and almost immediately Wendel’s head began to hurt. So loud! He clasped both his hands over his ears, and watched Dr. Mendes calmly put down her implements of mutilation and casually walk over to her bags. He mouthed, “What is it?” Quite certain she’d be unable to hear his words.
From inside her bag she produced what looked to be a gemstone attached to a long silver rod. With a flick of her wrist the sound stopped, and she held the rod in front of her with the stone pointing towards the ceiling. A map appeared in thin air, brilliantly projected by the crystal, and Wendel recognized at once the continent. There was a blinking red light on the sea to the far east, and there was a steady blue light just west of the mountains on the edge of a voided space. The Null. With a couple more lazy flicks of her wrist, the map changed and was a much more detailed map of the seaboard. There were strange archaic symbols in a multitude of colors swirling over several red dots on the map. Dr. Mendes moved her hand so the map was almost touching her face, and gasped. With another agitated flick of her wrist, the map disappeared, and she put the rod in the pocket of her khaki trousers.
She crossed the room back to the open corpse on the countertop, and proceeded to scraped the inside of the man’s lungs with her scalpel and then placed what she removed from the tip of the scalpel into a glass phial that she corked. Wendel was standing, staring at all this without moving, his ears were still ringing from the horrible chiming. The doctor cleaned her tools and returned them to her bags, which she strapped back onto her back swiftly.
“We have to go. Now.” She sounded solemn and serious.