Chapter 13

DAY 25 – RESISTANCE BASE – RUZA

“I have your first house call right here, Doc,” Amy declared as she entered his room.

Ruza was kneeling on his bed in his little tunnel alcove, his partially disassembled rifle lying on a tarp in front of him. He hadn’t gotten a chance to sit and clean it after the battle, and he was using a small brush and cleaning kit to remove some of the sand and dust that had melted onto its barrel during the last operation. Even with the shroud, the dirt managed to find its way to the coils.

“House call?” he repeated, setting down his weapon as she approached. She handed him a tablet computer, and he began to look over it, seeing that it was displaying a ticket of the kind used to track patients.

“Astrid said that you wanted to start seeing patients again, so I took it upon myself to follow up with some old faces. I still have a lot of contacts at the hospital. I did it all safely,” she added, preempting him before he could complain. “Astrid took care of the actual communication – I just gave her the names.”

“You are already doing more than your share,” Ruza began as he peered up at her. Amy’s face was all but healed now, her bruises little more than shadows. “You need not concern yourself with this as well as your other duties.”

“Hey, you never fired me,” she chided with a wag of her finger. “That means I’m still your secretary, mister.”

He responded with a bow of his head, knowing that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. There was a time when he would have found such insubordination infuriating – when such a response might have spurred him to correct her, but he had slowly come to appreciate human tenacity. They were like little desert mice, snapping and squeaking at predators ten times their size, commanding respect. Humans could be rude, confrontational, and disrespectful, but in ways that were intended to be supportive and affectionate. It took some getting used to. Such talk might have earned him a scar for his trouble back in his Matriarchy days.

“I know this name,” he began as he eyed the ticket again. “She brought her children to the clinic when she could not afford medicine.”

“It’s just like you said,” Amy continued with a disapproving shake of her head. “With the Borgs taking so many doctors up to the carrier, the hospital is starting to turn away some of the less serious cases. There are a few other small clinics throughout the city, but they’re backed up too.”

“When I came to Hades, I told myself that the killing was done,” Ruza said as he lifted his bayonet and began to clean it with a rag. “I came here to help people, but now, I help by killing. I do not like this. It will bring me some small measure of peace to help in a way that is uncomplicated and unambiguous again.”

“You have what my mother would have called a kind soul, Doc,” Amy replied.

“Perhaps you might not be so generous if you had seen me in battle,” he said, keeping his eyes on his weapon. “I fear that no matter what I do, and no matter where I travel, I will never be able to escape the specter of war. It follows me like a shadow, always on my heels. Sometimes, I wonder if it is divine punishment for my transgressions. I have taken lives unjustly before, and I have served tyrants, so perhaps I am cursed to fight forever and never know rest. It would be a fitting sentence.”

“Continuing to punish someone who knows that they made mistakes and is trying to do better seems counterproductive to me,” Amy replied. She walked over to him, stepping around the tarp that was strewn with XMR parts and lowering herself to the mattress beside him. She seemed so small, her head barely reaching his shoulder. “Have you considered that maybe you’re supposed to be here?”

“How do you mean?” he grumbled.

“You think fate is punishing you, but maybe fate is putting you exactly where you can do the most good,” she explained as she peered up at him. “Maybe you coming to Hades when you did was an unfortunate coincidence, or maybe you needed to be here because we’d be lost without you. You’re right – I didn’t know you before,” she conceded as she shifted her weight on the sheets, the sagging mattress tugging her towards him. “Maybe you did some really bad things that you’re ashamed of. I know you now, though,” she insisted. “I know the guy who treats sick kids for free, and the guy who carried me out of that garrison in his arms. I know the guy who makes everyone else’s safety his personal problem. If anyone ever tells you that you should be ashamed of who you’ve become, I’ll ... punch them right in the face!” she snarled as she jabbed at the air with a tiny fist.

“You have been spending too much time with Reed,” Ruza chuckled, the sound leaving his throat as a gravelly purr. “You have always shown me great kindness, and perhaps I would be wise to heed your counsel. I do not know what I would have done if we had not been able to find you again, Amy. I am not glad that you were involved in all this trouble, but I am glad to have you here.”

“You did find me,” she replied, leaning her head against his massive arm. “It was a very heroic rescue. Now, stop navel gazing and go treat some patients. You have a schedule to keep, you know.”

“Very well,” he conceded.

The tunnels were small and claustrophobic, forcing Ruza to duck in places, some of the squeezes so tight that he had to turn to his side and shimmy through the openings. Two resistance fighters accompanied him for security, the flashlights on their rifles lighting the way, one of them pulling up a tablet intermittently to check their location. There was no global positioning, and orientation had to be done by eye and experience. Ruza was carrying a bag of medical supplies, but he had elected to leave his rifle behind. He reminded himself to ask Rivera if he had any means of building a large-frame XMH that would be easier to conceal in situations like these.

“Almost there, Doc,” one of the men declared as he glanced around the next corner. It was hard to tell if they were Union miners, ex-PDF, or Marines. The lines were becoming blurred these days as their training and equipment improved.

Around the bend was a narrow ladder welded from metal pipes that led up to a hatch in the tunnel roof. One of the fighters climbed it and slowly popped open the hatch, glancing around the room above.

“Looks clear,” he said, opening it the rest of the way and climbing out. The second man followed, and Ruza leapt up behind him, bypassing the small ladder entirely. He found himself standing in yet another storage room, this one filled with crates and lined with shelves. Unlike the warehouses he had visited, this one was much smaller, and it didn’t have the persistent coating of dust that he had come to associate with them. It must have seen more recent use. None of the tunnels came out inside prefabs, as they were elevated off the ground on outriggers, so the structure was made of simple concrete.

This was their meeting place – an old storage building in the city once used for smuggling. It was daylight outside – they couldn’t travel under cover of night due to the curfew – but there were only a few dusty windows elevated high on the walls where the bleached sunlight spilled in. His patients should be able to slip inside without drawing the attention of any surveillance drones or patrols.

The two fighters cleared the room, then took up position to watch the door. As the minutes ticked by, Ruza found himself growing increasingly nervous. It would not be difficult for SWAR to lay a trap, and in a confined space like this one, a single volley of XMR fire or a well-placed grenade would end him. He had to trust that Astrid and Amy had taken all necessary precautions.

After maybe ten minutes had passed, there was a knock at the door – knuckles ringing against old metal. The two fighters bristled, the one nearest the door edging closer and opening the heavy bolt, peering through the gap. Ruza could see his demeanor change, and he lowered his weapon, opening the door a little further with a creak of rusted hinges.

A figure wearing the customary tan shawl and hood of a Hadean citizen was guided inside along with a flood of warm wind and dust, her face obscured by a rebreather. She clutched the hands of two small children who trailed after her, their short legs making it hard for them to keep pace. Just like their mother, their features were hidden by protective gear. One of the reasons that young Hadean children often suffered from respiratory infections wasn’t only due to the vulnerability of youth, but because small children sometimes pried off their uncomfortable masks.

The fighter closed the door behind them, and Ruza noted that both men were quick to conceal their rifles beneath their long dusters, not wanting to scare the woman. She looked around, her eyes obscured by her tinted visor, but she soon spotted Ruza lurking in the gloom at the back of the room. As he stepped into view and threw back his hood, she released her children, reaching up to take off her mask. She revealed a light complexion dotted with freckles, shaking out her long, dark hair.

“Miss Bauer,” Ruza said, tilting his head in greeting. “It is good to see you and the children again.”

“Doctor Ruza,” she sighed, seeming to deflate with relief. “Thank goodness. I don’t even know where to begin. Some people are spreading rumors that you were killed, someone said you’d been arrested, and the Governor has been saying you’re working with terrorists! I didn’t know what to think.”

“It is a long story, and one that I am not at liberty to divulge in its entirety,” he replied. The children recognized him, the smaller of the two toddling over to him, the older girl sticking close to her mother.

“Kitty!” the young boy exclaimed, his voice muffled by a rebreather that was a little too large for his tiny head. Ruza gently scooped him off the floor and removed the mask, holding it between his thumb and forefinger as though it was no larger than a thimble. He was greeted by a happy, red little face, the child too young to have any fear of his odd surroundings or the unusual nature of their meeting.

“Hello, Peter,” Ruza said with a rumbling laugh. “What ails you this time? Is it his chest again?” he added as he turned his attention to the boy’s mother.

“They’re both suffering from the usual,” Miss Bauer replied as she guided her reluctant daughter nearer. “We ran out of the medicine that you prescribed last time, and after everything that’s happened, we couldn’t come to you for more. I tried a couple of clinics across town, but they didn’t have any to spare, and the hospital turned us away. They’re turning a lot of people away – something about being short-staffed.”

“I fear that such things will become more common,” Ruza replied solemnly, setting the wriggling boy down on a convenient crate. He placed his bag beside the child, opening it up and rummaging through its contents.

“Who ... are you?” Miss Bauer asked, eyeing the fighters warily. Her question wasn’t phrased in a rude way, but she was understandably confused.

“Just a couple of concerned citizens, Ma’am,” one of them replied. “We’re here to protect you.”

“Then ... is there any truth to what the Governor has been saying?” she pressed. “All we have are rumors and whatever gets broadcast in his addresses. There have been a lot of them lately. Is that why we’re meeting in this storehouse instead of your clinic, and why I was told to be discreet?”

“You should not heed the Governor or his soldiers,” Ruza replied as he opened the boy’s shawl and pressed an ear against his chest. He let the child play with his hair, listening to the sound of his laughter and babbling for any signs of fluid buildup. “He does not speak the truth. I cannot tell you as much as I would like, but you must trust that my comrades and I are doing all that we can to help.”

“Not terrorists, then,” Bauer said with a sigh and a nod. “The talk of these Navy people being imposters wasn’t just gossip after all, was it?”

“The dust is irritating his lungs,” Ruza announced, letting the boy grab one of his thick fingers as he drew back. “I will provide you with medicated charges for his inhaler. Two deep breaths per day should clear it up in short order as long as you make sure he wears his mask while outside. I know that it can be challenging with young ones, but you must try.”

“You’re just giving it to me?” she asked, her voice beginning to waver. “You don’t want me to pay? Even now, with all the shortages?”

“As long as I have medicine to give, it will be free,” Ruza replied.

She began to cry, reaching up to wipe away the tears that were welling in her eyes, struggling to get her hands out of her long sleeves. Her daughter pressed a little closer, perhaps assuming that her mother was upset.

“After I couldn’t get any refills, I didn’t know what to do,” she sobbed. “I thought my kids might...” She trailed off, not wanting to frighten her daughter. “I thought things might get worse for them. You were missing, the hospital turned me away, and I couldn’t afford to buy from the black market. If your secretary hadn’t reached out...”

“We have contacts at the hospital,” Ruza explained, setting the little boy down and giving him an encouraging push to send him waddling back to his mother. “If you know of anyone else who is suffering and cannot get help, tell them to go to the hospital. If they can be seen, all will be well. If they are turned away, we will be informed, and we will get in contact with them to arrange a meeting. They cannot reach out to us – not at this stage. It is too dangerous.”

“What’s going to happen to Hades?” Bauer asked, hefting her son off the floor and holding him close. “Is there somewhere we should go – anything we should do?”

“Avoid the garrisons, and stockpile what nonperishable foods and supplies you can. This planet has an infection,” Ruza added as he turned to his bag again. “Things will likely get worse before the healing can begin. There will be ... painful debridement. Keep your family close.”

She guided her daughter over to him, the child gripping her mother’s hand stubbornly.

“Now, Jessica,” Ruza began in the softest voice that he could muster. He crouched down lower, offering her a furry hand. “You have visited my office before. This office is not as nice, but there is nothing to be afraid of. Be a good girl for your mother, and I will have a gift for you and your brother.”

That got her attention, and she became more cooperative, placing a hand in his palm. It was so small in comparison that it vanished up to the wrist in his sandy fur. She allowed him to lift her up, and he placed her on the same crate, letting her stroke the fur of his hand as he began his examination. Jessica was a shy girl, and he had noted that certain textures gave her comfort. He performed the same examination, pressing an ear to her chest. Humans often used stethoscopes or other tools to enhance their hearing, but his ears were more than sensitive enough. There were even certain scents that could help one diagnose illnesses – a field of medicine practically unknown to humans.