FutureBlog Entry #16

January 16, 2106 posted by Pete III

"Mr. Three, the doctor will see you now," the robot's female voice informed me. I smiled and in terms of keeping this blog back in time, I wondered just how many times that particular phrase has been muttered.

"The doctor will see you now."

As I passed through the doorway that connected the lobby to the corridor that lead to various examination suites, I wondered how long it would take the good doctor to recognize that I had not been entirely honest when I called for my appointment.

"Back so soon, Mr. Three?"

"Hello, doctor, so good to see you."

"You told my robot that you've a..." he glanced down at his sheet of stiffened electronic paper and then back up at me "...a tumor?"

"Yes, well, I--"

"You know if this is true you'll be making history. It's been five years since the last tumor was excised from the very last cancer victim. If this is true, it could mean a complete and utter change in--"

"Doctor, you're my personal health official, not my personal historian official."

"Right, sorry. Where did you say your tumor was? Testicles?" He began to reach for my upper-between-the-thighs area. I was able to block his advance and take a step back.

"OK, so it's not testicular cancer. Perhaps it's colon cancer? Why don't you pull your pants down, bend over and I'll have a look!"

I am quite certain my eyes went wide as I quickly stammered out the best excuse I could muster. "No! No, no, no--it's a, a, not in my colon, it's in my throat--um, no--not... It's um..."

I looked him in the eye for a moment and realized I had gone about this the entirely wrong way. Honesty, my father would have told me. Every positive relationship is based on it, according to him.

"Doctor, I... the tumor is... in my brain--"

"Your brain!"

"MIND, I meant to say--uh, imagination."

"Oh!" he said as though he had just been informed of the loss of his daughter's virginity. "No tumor?"

His heart seemed to be broken. "Um. No, I'm sorry, Doctor--however, I was considering asking you for a bit of a health-related favor."

"Health related?" He smiled at me, clearly unsure how he should be feeling at that moment.

"It's about 110 and catching the people who did it."

"Health related?" This time it was he who stammered. "I--fail to see--well, I don't have anything against capturing those who committed--but I... health-related?"

"Doctor, I am an eye-witness to a person who was directly involved in the explosions. I know where she lives, even."

"Then why don't you simply go and get her?"

I took a very large breath nervous that he would react negatively to my next admission. "She lives below the 33rd in the M's."

"Below the 33rd?"

"Yes."

"And she... it must be just a temporary place to hide--the place you saw--it had to be just for now. Just until things calm down."

"What? Why's that, Doctor?"

"Well, because! If she lived down their permanently she'd have GS."

"That's true, but then--the room I was in looked lived in--like someone, a human lived there."

"Are you certain it wasn't simply an elaborate charging station for maintenance 'bots?"

"The place I saw--it was someone's apartment. Without a doubt someone lived there. There were things on shelves, sheets on the bed, and things hanging on the walls--decorations."

"Oh... very strange."

"Since when do maintenance droids hang wall art?"

"If this woman you speak of really does live down there, she must suffer from GS."

"Germ Syndrome--yes, I suppose she must."

"Exposure to the M's for more than 13 days usually results in the onset of symptoms."

"It's been longer than that since I first saw her down there."

"Perhaps she just sneaks down there at night or something."

"Wouldn't you like to know for sure?" I asked him. He paused and seemed instantly deep in thought. "What if she holds a cure for GS?"

"That's a very good point, my boy." Even though he was barely ten years older than me, he's always referred to me like a grandfather might his grandchild.

"You want to be sure, right?"

"Yes... yes, indeed."

So, it was settled. He would come. I told him we'd be leaving in four days time. I suggest he spend some time thinking about the medical supplies he'd need to care for the rest of the group for at least a day or two's journey in the M's. Anti-GS injections, dermal gel and EM bone setters were the suggestions I had for him.

"Who is the rest of your team, Mr. Three?"

"I'm still working on confirming them, Doctor, but I shall let you know who they are as soon as they have agreed to join us. Thank you, Doctor! I truly appreciate your help on this little adventure."

"It is my benefit, my boy."

More tomorrow...