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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 113: Kondor 293
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Slade 288
Cameron picked him up at the airport, a bit groggy from sleeping on the plane.
“Debriefing?” Kondor asked. “And what about my bike and other luggage?”
“Your gear is being gathered. Skink called ahead; you’re going directly to the 256 Field Hospital. He wants that ear seen to by a doctor.”
Yes, he forgot. Skink had more experience as a field medic than he had had when he versed out the first time, but he had since received medical training and experience in several different worlds. He really was a doctor; Skink really was a medic. He hadn’t been able to look at his own ear, but from the feel he’d lost a bit of it, and someone should get a better look at it.
“Before I forget,” he said, “my headgear was damaged. Dig it out of my pack and send it to Gear to see if they can repair it.”
“Right. Get headgear repaired.” And with that, they had reached the hospital emergency entrance. “You’re expected,” Cameron said. “Tell them you’re Joseph Kondor.”
The hospital visit had him sitting in an examination room. The doctor, an Indian named Patel, came in looking with interest on the medical files for Kondor.
“It says here, Captain Kondor, that you are not contagious, but I am not to take any blood. Also, that you are a doctor. Nor am I to put your information into the electronic network. Interesting. Especially the part about anything related to you being under Most Secret secrecy.” He looked up at Kondor, who simply shrugged.
“Right, right, mind my own business. Let’s see your ear.” He came over and poked, and then peeled off the gauze bandage Skink had applied. “Your medic did a top-notch job. You got skimmed, just lost the top tenth of an inch of your ear. I can close this up with some stitches easily enough. Dissolvable even. But first, off with your shirt.”
Kondor complied, and the doctor hmmmed.
“You’ve got some bits and pieces of broken plastic, and a little wire dotting you. None of it is that deep, so you’re lucky. This will sting a bit, but--” The doctor took some tweezers and plucked out a shred of plastic that he showed Kondor. It was visibly the same plastic as the damaged headset. The doctor went on to the others commenting that Kondor was lucky not to have any damage to his inner ear, or major muscles, nerves, or blood vessels. Kondor grimaced as the doctor pulled out the deepest piece, a spiral spring embedded into his shoulder. It was not luck, but he did not know what to call it. A half-dozen or more small bandages later, and the doctor proclaimed ‘the lesser problems fixed’.
He called for a nurse, and a bright-eyed blonde came in. She set out a syringe, and needles for the doctor. Looking at her work, Kondor was reminded of Leah. There was little similarity in their looks, but both had the sort of calm, quiet decisiveness. When she left the room with a smile for him to attend to her other labors, he was not sure if he should be happy or sad.
A small prick, and his ear numbed over a moment. The doctor began doing the stitches and, a handful of them later, was done. The nurse returned and padded his ear in what he thought was a ridiculous volume of gauze.
“Try not to lie on this ear for the next week, sir. If you need it, here is a prescription for some mild pain pills, although I think acetaminophen will get you through it.”
Kondor was about to get up when Dr. Patel put a soft restraining hand on his arm.
“Doctor, I know sometimes we’re hardheaded. Doctors make the worst patients, after all. I don’t want to know what you were doing for Her Majesty, but things like this make a man think. A centimeter down, and we’d have to do plastic surgery. A centimeter one way, and you’d have a crease in your skull, possible skull fracture, and concussion. A centimeter more that way, and we might not have had a discussion at all, if you take my meaning.”
Kondor nodded.
“You might not be thinking you need it, but a good therapist or priest is sometimes good to talk to. You’re not immortal.”
“Thank you for the kind words and good stitches, doctor, but I’m not a Christian.”
“Well, neither am I. I’m Buddhist. We have priests as well.”
Kondor just smiled, and patted the man once on the shoulder, and let himself out. It took about an hour to get fully signed out, as this was the military, and speed of clerks was not a thing. Finally, he was able to take a taxi to his apartment, which was empty, and he got to the much-craved bed.
There is a behind-the-writings look at the thoughts, influences, and ideas of this chapter, along with eleven other sequential chapters of this novel, in mark Joseph "young" web log entry #533: Characters Traveling. Given a moment, this link should take you directly to the section relevant to this chapter. It may contain spoilers of upcoming chapters.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
