Pressure Cooker
Copyright© 2022 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 2
The sun was up, the room was a cheerful yellow ... the sheets were white with daisies. However, the bed was stainless and her attached plumbing was clear and sanitary. Her robe was hospital and tied behind. The monitors were placed in such a manner that she couldn’t read them. As she was looking ... a monitor and pump activated.
Just before she slept, a sorta human entered and watched whatever the pump had administered ... work.
As soon as the bed-ridden woman was ‘out’ the team of ‘doctors’ entered, the woman was shifted to a surgery gurney and was soon under the lights.
The head surgeon ... if that word was appropriate ... spoke to the rest of the attendants. Speaking is just a word ... an action of conveying information or expressing one’s thoughts and feelings. But it was mind to mind and not mouth to ear.
It wasn’t English or any language heard of on Sol 3 ... ever. It wasn’t vocal in any sense of the word. It was more a video describing the why and how he intended to move forward.
<There’s not much to work with>.
<The worst yet>. Her thoughts were of a battlefield pickup and what that rescue entailed. It was gruesome, but not as bad as this subject.
<She’s going to start over>.
<No need to mention ... if we sent her back to the kitchen like she needs to be... > describing the hazards involved with a perfect figure in the slime of the afterblast ... and all that that would entail.
<Shall we begin>?
Wild dreams ... there was something odd going on ... and she couldn’t quite put a finger on it.
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