Chapter 3

Friday, October 13, 2045

The bell rang to end second period. I closed up my civics book and looked over the rest of the class. The last two days had been as close to war on campus as I could remember. Darryl had not given up on revenge and spent most of his time trying to incite his cronies to attack any hybrid that dared to wander away from the more traveled corridors or the regions of campus where the more powerful MORFS survivors congregated. I was working to keep most of the pures neutral for now, and it helped that Darryl was not respected. Unfortunately, Gina had decided to take a much more personal interest in the proceeding and keeping the violence from erupting was proving to be a difficult task. Gina was quite willing to resort to blackmail and intimidation to assist Darryl in his crusade, and her intelligence network was very good. She had many of the underclassmen afraid to directly refuse to help them, and other than a few members like Angela who absolutely refused to be aggressive, she had managed to get just about everyone involved. Tristan had become a surprise ally in my efforts to redirect the anger of the pure crowd away from the hybrids, and kept the majority of them involved in local clean up projects, but there were a number of tense moments near the fountain when Darryl and his friends confronted some of the weaker hybrids. The appearance of Michael Ingals, a powerful telepath, and probably the leader of the militant MORFS, was the only reason that there was not a riot during lunch on Thursday. Darryl might be hateful, but he was not stupid, and while the pures had numbers, Michael was well known for his nasty habit of probing people's minds and making them experience their worst fears. The trick does not work on crowds, but Darryl had a hard time convincing anyone to put themselves in harm's way to let others take Michael down, and the incipient riot died unborn. I actually breathed a sigh of relief this morning during first period when I heard that Darryl was going to be absent for the whole day while his injured arm received treatment. My only worry was that a bio-elemental would almost certainly be called in to mend the broken bones, and Darryl would be even more poisonous and upset Monday after having one of the "unclean" help to cure him.

I was about to leave the room when I heard a groan and looked back. I immediately noticed the girl slumped in her chair and moved to check on her. "What's the problem?" I asked as I tried to remember her name. She had brown hair that was long enough to fall across her face and obscure her features, but something about her was hauntingly familiar. I had a thought that she might have been sitting in the back of a couple of the better attended pure meetings, but could not remember her name.

"I just don't feel well," she said. She raised her head for a moment, and I was shocked to see that a face could be completely pale and yet green at the same time. I put a hand on her forehead and pulled it away quickly as I felt heat radiating from her.

"You need to see a doctor," I said. "And I get a feeling he will have to call your parents and direct you to a clinic. This looks like MORFS."

"MORFS! How can any mere student diagnose MORFS," I heard someone cry from behind me. "She's probably just malingering in order to avoid the rest of her classes this week." A hand covered in fine hairs reached around her and touched her forehead. There was a pause and then the hand moved away. "Well, so she has a fever," the voice now sniffed. "That does not prove anything. Drag her to the school nurse if you must, but it's probably only some trick to get out of class." With a series of loud steps the body walked away. I was so tempted to say something, but I'd recognized the voice and arm as belonging to Belinda Barlow, a bitter teacher who had never shown any empathy to her students.

"Well, she's not diplomatic about it," I said to the sick girl. "But we do need to get you to the nurse. Can you stand, or should I carry you?"

The girl appeared to choke down a wave of nausea, and then whispered. "I don't think I can stand."

This wasn't a surprise to me, as some other students who had come down with MORFS while at school had needed to be carried to the infirmary. I reached down to sling her backpack over my shoulder and then gently gathered her in my arms. She was not a large girl and thanks to my fitness regimen I was easily able to pick her up. Her face bore silent witness to the waves of nausea she was suffering from, but she held her stomach in check as I lifted her up and began striding to the door.

I had hoped to get to the office without incident, but as I turned the final corner I nearly ran over Gina as she stalked the hallways with two of her friends. Gina's friends gave screams of alarm and dashed away, but Gina stood there as I twisted my body to an awkward halt.

"Well, if it isn't everyone's friend," Gina said snidely. "I see you are once again acting Captain Hero. Of course we all know it's just an act and you are merely a coward who refuses to fight for the righteous." I stood there stoically hoping she would go away, when she took a closer look at the young lady I was carrying.

"Why, Wendy! To think that someone from your family could look so sick at your age. You don't suppose you have MORFS do you. Will your father be ever so disappointed. And I can just imagine the service at church this Sunday. Won't Reverend Jim be asking how you allowed the evil into your body. Or perhaps it was your mother who allowed a unclean touch years ago and you are finally being exposed for her foul treachery."

The girl in my arms squirmed and burrowed her face into my shoulder as if to hide. I was worrying that her movements and obvious distress would finally overwhelm her self control and let the nausea I'd seen earlier take over, but before that could happen Allan appeared out of one of the rooms and spoke. "Gina, you really are a right piece of work. I've met snails with more compassion than you do, and I cannot imagine just how you can pretend that anything the UTPP teaches is righteous. Now why don't you run along and terrorize your younger brother about how he's going to turn into a teddy bear if he doesn't carry your books after school again."

Gina turned and with a scream full of humiliation ran off down the hallway. I gave Allan a brief nod and started off for the nurse office again as he hurried along beside me. As he did he took a moment to glance at the girl.

"Do you know who she is?" I asked.

"I think so, especially after Gina's shouting," Allan replied. "And if I'm right, we have a problem. I think this is Wendy Gerrish. She's not a bad person, but her parents are part of that cult, United Trinity of Perfect Purity. If Wendy is very lucky, they might take her home and make her live on bread and water for the duration of her change before throwing her out. Rumors say that some families are worse and will ship off kids who enter MORFS stage one to slave camps where they are forced to work until they die. No matter what, Wendy will be blamed for somehow causing the transformation."

"Joy" I replied as we reached our destination and Allan opened the door for me to enter. As I did, Miss Jordan, the school nurse noticed, and stood up from her desk, opening a drawer and removing a home MORFS blood test as she did so.

"Lay her on the couch and then grab a bowl from the cabinet, please." She said as she walked over to us. "Where did she first become sick and who has seen her?"

Allan was over at the cabinet so I took a moment to answer Miss Jordan. "I heard her moan after our second period civics class ended. Miss Barlow saw her, but refused to get involved. On the way here I ran into Gina and two of her cronies, but I believe only Gina got a good look at her."

"That might be a blessing," Miss Jordan said as she selected one of the girl's fingers and placed it in the testing device. "Gina is a problem, but she rarely talks much about anyone who gets MORFS once they do. So if we are lucky this won't end up all over the school by lunch. That usually starts a panic with the freshman who haven't caught MORFS all fearing that they will be in here before the end of the day."

Miss Jordan was waiting for the test to register and I was trying to make the girl a bit more comfortable just as Principal Smith entered the office from the hallway. He looked over at the gathering and immediately asked. "MORFS?"

"It looks that way," said Miss Jordan as Wendy finally lost her battle with the nausea and began vomiting into the bowl Allan had just brought over. "We will know for sure in a moment."

"Do we know who this young lady is?" Principal Smith said just as the lady turned to lie back down. As she did, her hair fell back to reveal her face to him. "Oh god, I'm sorry," he said sadly.

At that moment the test kit dinged and turned green. "It's MORFS," Miss Jordan said as she removed the test pack and began resetting the device. "This girl needs to go to the clinic right away."

Allan looked over at him. "Its Wendy Gerrish isn't it?"

Principal Smith nodded. "Yes, it is. And I know her parents. If I call they will be livid and refuse to take her to the clinic." He looked concerned.

"I can take her to the clinic. She could even stay with my father and me until she can find her own place," I said.

I noticed that three sets of eyes were looking at me in shock. I think Wendy's would have been as well, but she was lying down with her hands over her eyes. There was a long moment of silence and then Principal Smith spoke. "Interesting. Not an idea I would have thought of though. But should I let a teenage girl move into a house where only a teenage male and his father live. She'd have no woman around to help care for her."

"That's not entirely true," I said with a quick glance at Allan, who turned to inspect the drywall. "It might have been, but that changed earlier this week."

Principal Smith looked interested. "Humm ... so I guess the rumors are true. I must admit I've noticed a new ring adorning a certain finger during lunch in the faculty lounge the last two days. But isn't it a bit quick?"

"My father and I were expecting to do some heavy moving this weekend," I replied. I looked over and noticed that Miss Jordan seemed completely confused by the conversation and smiled.

"Well, but are you sure you can do it. Its not like students have cars they can just carry a girl out to and drive off in," Principal Smith said.

"I think we can arrange that with a couple of phone calls," I replied. "If we can adjourn to your office for some privacy, that is."

"Indeed. Allan, please return to your class and keep silent about this for now. Miss Jordan, Hector and I are going to make some arrangements to get Wendy here to the clinic and then to a comfortable home so she can rest and endure stage two. Please make sure we are not disturbed." Principal Smith then walked over to the door to his office and opened it, indicating that I should enter before him.

He pointed towards the phone on his desk. "I'm sure you know the number better than I. Please make the calls, but use the speaker phone so I can join in if necessary/"

I found the phone and dialed the number for my father's office by memory. As I had hoped Evelyn answered. "Lynwood Insurance, how may I help you?"

I quickly answered. "Eve, this is Hector. I need to have a quick private chat with my father. Can you send him into the kitchen and route the call there?"

I heard a muffled reply and then hold music came on. It seemed an eternity before I heard my father pick up the phone. "Hector, this is a surprise. Eve tells me you are calling from what sounds like a speaker phone."

"I am, dad. I'm in Principal Smith's office. There is a girl here in stage one of MORFS, but it turns out that her family goes to Trinity. You know how the rules are and officially Principal Smith can only call them. But if she is no longer here when he calls, she might be able to receive proper care."

"I think I understand," my father said. "And I can imagine you are thinking of a room of heather to let her rest in comfort. However, the doctors usually want to see proof of parentage before they will issue prescriptions."

Principal Smith spoke up next to me. "I've found that the clinic over by the plaza has this annoying habit of losing files and misdirecting patients. You really should be careful where you take her."

My father laughed. "Ouch, I can imagine that some officials do not care for that. My only other question would be how you expect to travel there. I doubt the school can loan you a car."

"I had this nutty idea to see how much goodwill I have with the faculty over at the elementary school," I replied. "If all goes well, I can be on my way in a few minutes."

"Ah, I do imagine you have some credit there. I can even call ahead to speed you on your way," my father said. "When you get to the pharmacy tell them to contact me for the payment."

I hung up and Principal Smith smiled. "I'll have to call this in before the next period ends. Hurry back with your conveyance and I'll have Miss Jordan bring the girl down to you. Don't worry about your classes, I can run interference with your teachers today."

I nodded and dashed out of the office, giving Miss Jordan a quick wave as I entered the corridors. The three campuses are separated slightly each with their own cafeteria and principal, but it was not uncommon for high school students to be sent to the other campuses as messengers so my travels did not draw any comments. I worried a bit about entering Laura's classroom, but she met me at the door with her key. As I took it she gave me a loving smile. "If only I had a brother like you years ago," she said as I starting walking to the faculty lot.

Finding Laura's nut-brown sedan in the faculty parking lot proved to be easy. Sadly, getting in and starting it required a bit of effort, as I had to push the seat away from the steering wheel just to fit my body in. I had a bit of an experience driving her car, and after killing the engine once trying to get out of the faculty lot; I was able to motor over to the entrance to the high school.

I had been worried about how Wendy would be brought out to the car, however, Principal Smith had thought ahead. The front door of the school opened as I brought the car to a halt and Coach Davis came out carrying her limp form. I opened the passenger door and he set her inside. "I'll make an excuse for you to miss practice today, but remember to put in some time this weekend, we have a big game next Friday," he told me as I started to buckle her in. Once Wendy was secure in the car, he closed the door and returned to the school.

The drive to the clinic was silent, and a bit long. I avoided the clinic closest to the school and took a long drive over to the old plaza where the first county clinic still operated. I found it in a decaying mass of warehouses and mostly closed factories and quickly parked right out front. Wendy was now almost unconscious and made no protest as I walked around the car and lifted her up to carry her inside.

The crumbling exterior of the building concealed a pristine interior that was without patients at this time of the day. Once inside, I found an old nurse manning the reception deck. She was wearing a garishly colored top over the traditional hospital whites. With barely a glance at me, she spotted Wendy and then stood up, speaking. "Oh dear. Let's get her into a room and then we can worry about the paperwork."

I followed the nurse into a spotless examination room and gently placed Wendy on the examination table in the room. The nurse was setting up for the exam when she looked over at me before returning her gaze to Wendy.

"You aren't going to try to tell me that she's your sister are you?" she said. "Let me guess, you go to Bakersfield Polytech and just happened upon this young Independence High student collapsed on the sidewalk. You brought her here because the clinic near the school was just too crowded, am I right?"

I was about to deny her statement when I noticed the slight smile. "Well, she had crawled into a front lawn before collapsing, but the crowd at the clinic in southwest Bakersfield was packed when I got there," I replied tentatively.

The nurse smiled. "Come with me to the front so we can deal with a bit of paperwork. The doctor will check on her in a moment."

We returned to the front where the nurse pulled out some paperwork. She made no inquiry into the identity of Wendy, but concentrated on having me fill out each form with information she supplied from a set of cue cards. I nearly laughed when she told me to fill in the patient's name as Elmyra Fudd and the parent's name as Elmer Fudd. The laughter did burst forth when she asked. "And how will master Fudd be compensating the good doctor for his diagnosis?"

A few moments later I had control over my laughter and handed her one of my father's business cards. She smiled and called the office, asking whoever answered to speak with my father. The conversation with him was short and ended with her providing the ID for an online payment location. I didn't hear the amount asked for, but it was clear that my father's response satisfied her because she hung up and then stood up, beckoning me to return to the examination room.

We arrived to find the doctor just putting away his instruments. I had thought the nurse was old, but he looked positively ancient, with deep lines in his weathered skin. The nurse handed him a newly made file that he looked over briefly before looking up at me. "Well son, your friend here should be fine. Stage one appears to be progressing normally and just about over. Once you get this prescription filled, she should smoothly transition to stage two. Just get her into a comfortable bed and make sure she rests peacefully. Having militants around is no way to keep the mind calm and relaxed, which is important to a successful recovery. Once she's done with stage two, you can take her to the clinic near the school for the post-MORFS exam."

"But, won't her parents need to be there when she visits?" I asked.

The nurse was the one to reply. "They are used to this, dearie. As long as she identifies herself as Elmyra the doctors there won't ask any questions. Now you better get going, we'll call ahead to the Walgreen's at Treeoak and Main so that you can get the prescription filled without leaving the car."

With a few more gentle hints and smiles, the old doctor and nurse had me pick up Wendy and carry her down to my car. I had started it and was already halfway home and a block from the pharmacy when I realized I had never told them which route I was going to take.

With the drive too and from the clinic, plus a short wait at the pharmacy for the MORFS IV kit, it was almost time for lunch when I pulled into the driveway and activated the garage door. As I pulled into the garage I noticed that my father had pulled his car out and parked it on the street, giving me plenty of space to walk around and lift Wendy from the passenger seat. She was limp with exhaustion and fever, so I hurried to the side door, to find my father opening it just as I arrived. Evelyn was standing behind him. She gasped for a moment and then nodded. "Sorry, she just looks so pitiful and tiny in your arms."