The Runners: Chapter 18
Chapter 18
“Hi, my name is Debbie Ryan. I’m your nurse and will be taking care of you. What is your name?” A rather attractive nurse in a white robe pleasantly asked David.
“David Chan.” David responded autonomously.
“Date of birth?”
“September 16, 2162”
“Do you have allergies to any medications?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Heart trouble, asthma, history of high blood pressure….?”
“No, no, no, no.”
As quickly as she had fired the questions, David replied in like fashion. The nurse then entered the patient’s responses along with some comments into the medical logging system, which was extending out from the wall. Then, she said, “I will be right back” and left the room. Few minutes later, another nurse wearing a light pink colored uniform came in and began throwing the same familiar questions at David.
“What is your name, sir?” With even more politeness, she addressed him, sir.
“David Chan.”
“Date of birth?”
“I just gave all that information to nurse Debbie. Couldn’t you retrieve the information from where she had just entered?” David did not see the need for giving out same answers twice in the span of just five minutes.
“Well, just a procedure to verify that it is you and that you remember who you are yourself.” The nurse responded not giving in an inch.
“September 16, 2162.” David complied reluctantly, although he knew that the hospital had his identity and pertinent medical records from his iris scan and the embedded chip, he realized that he would be required to respond. Before David gave an answer to the last question, a couple of technicians came into the room and started to hook him up with wires from a circular box that were hanging down from the ceiling. Then, they told him to relax and assured David that the doctor would be in shortly. David looked up at the bright lights that were now shining from the monitor above the bed. Still dazed, he closed his eyes.
A minute or two had passed as far as David could tell when he was stirred up by the sounds of door opening and curtains being drawn. This time, to his relief, David saw a doctor standing over him with the monitor that she has pulled out from the wall. The doctor was looking back and forth between the monitor and the patient then began asking questions.
“What is your name?”
“David Chan..,” here it goes again, thought David. But, responded knowing that his protest would get him nowhere.
“Date of birth…”
After series of repetitive questions, the doctor, finally, gave his prognosis.
“Your vitals are good. There was not a major wound or trauma although your heart rate was on the high side. I think was a temporary effect from the excitement and the elevated adrenaline level during your car chase. Your vital reads are good, your blood pressure is good, and temperature is normal.”
“Great!” David said.
“We just need to patch you up, apply some medication on the surface wounds, and you should be all good to go.”
“Thank you. Ma’am,” David expressed his gratitude to the doctor knowing that he will be emancipated from these annoying questions.
Then, she began stitching him up on the temples, shoulder, and other cuts around the neck.
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“Chan, what the heck is going on?” Very irritated Woodson barged into the emergency room where David was being looked after by the medical staff. He was being stitched up. Sitting on the bed now, David looked up at Woodson, still dazed. For some reason, hospitals, especially, the emergency rooms have tendency to make people weaker than they actually were, he thought.
They put you in a sterile environment with strange looking wires, tubes, and needles attached to anyone who was unfortunate enough to get admitted. Then, they get you to relax and torture you by asking the same repetitive questions, over and over, again and again. Sort of like police interrogation, David compared the experience with his own line of work. David couldn’t help, but to laugh at the ironic similarities.
“Sir, I meant to come to the office!” Delighted that it wasn’t the same repetitive question, he responded with high perkiness.
“Do you realize the damages that your stunt had just caused in the middle of the city? Both the commissioner and the regional head are on my back!”
“Sir…” His voice trailing low, David didn’t know what to say. He had forgotten about the bus crashes on Lawrence Avenue.
“Get patched up. After a day’s rest we’ll talk. Make sure the report is on my desk in 48 hours!” And, Woodson left the room before David could respond to his tirade.
“Yes, sir…,” David answered to himself.
After having his wounds treated, David was released from the UN Employee’s Hospital in Naperville. It became a mission since the year 2100 for the UN to build and operate exclusive medical care centers at their own facilities, for the purpose of treating its own employees. There were many UN operated health care facilities in major metropolitan areas around the world. With the large pool of UN employees in Chicago, it had one of the largest treatment centers, but not necessarily one of the best ones.
As the cost of health care rose to the level of un-affordability for many, this perk has increased the UN’s ability to recruit high caliber talents to many of its departments. Security and law enforcement agencies within the UN began drawing exceptional individuals with the level of qualifications not previously seen before, in its history. And, the organizations went out of their ways to accommodate them.
David was one of those talents courted by his supervisor while he was a sophomore in college. He graduated high school with top academic achievements in California. When he entered Stanford, he pursued business and law. In his sophomore year in 2181, he had a paper titled ‘The UN Roles and Boundaries’ which drew clear demarcations of what UN should and should not do in the world’s economy and politics. The paper was noticed by the UN insiders for David’s genius in argumentative thought process, but not necessarily agreeing to the content. Impressed by the paper, the UNBI had decided to recruit David and Mr. Abena Zuma had won him over. He joined the UNBI and later earned master’s degree in criminology while completing the UNBI’s final physical training program before becoming an official agent.
After solving several tough cases in record time, he was assigned to Chicago to assist Woodson and perhaps to learn from him, he believed. He was fully aware of the risks and dangers of being a field UNBI agent. For what it’s worth, this particular experience would officially induct him into the ‘the hall of the proud few, who were privileged to own the exclusive rights to a story of a wild car chase’ to the grand kids later in their lives. He still felt the experience to be surreal and for a brief moment wondered if what he had signed up for was all worth it.
After a few minutes of rest, he was cleared to be discharged. He got dressed, checked his shirt pocket to find the storage disk still intact. “What will you have for me?” He said to himself, staring at the disk as he drew it closer to his eyes.