May I Enjoy My Life: Entry 12

June 18th, 1100

Texas’ surgery had ended an hour ago. She was awake now, alert, and thoroughly pissed. Mostly at James for endangering himself for her. Ch’en challenged her to a sword fight, and over the objections of the entire medical department, those two knuckleheads are currently going at it hammer and tongs in the training facility. Hopefully, they won’t break anything, but it’s probably the best way for Texas to blow off some steam. 

Later, Warfarin is going to get Projekt Red to help her give Texas the tail-twisting of a lifetime. I’m not sure why all the other lupos are so afraid of Red, she’s just kind of a sweet but quiet kid as far as I can tell, but it’s rather hilarious to watch all the supposedly big and strong lupos run for the hills whenever Red shows up. I’ve requested to study the phenomenon multiple times, but I’m always denied. 

I suppose it’s for the best, I’ve found something far more intriguing to delve into. 

Myself, Warfarin, Folinic, Director Kal’tsit, Leader Amiya, the Doctor, and Gavial were all sitting around a conference table, studying charts and looking at the images on screen. 

“Alright, someone smarter than me is going to have to explain this shit to me,” Gavial growled, her hand massaging her forehead as she stared at a chart. “Because I get what the numbers say, but this makes no damn sense.”

“I’m equally baffled,” Folinic admitted, shaking her head. “His numbers went down after using arts to heal Texas? But, that’s not how arts works. Arts use should elevate his levels, not reduce them.”

“It could be wrong. The difference is minute enough that it could just be the margin of error,” Warfarin said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. 

“But you don’t think it is, do you, Dr. Sussurro?” Amiya said. She wasn’t looking at the charts at all. While she did have powerful healing arts, along with well, powerful arts in general, she wasn’t trained as a medic or doctor, so a lot of these numbers would have been somewhat meaningless to her. 

“I suspect it wasn’t. His numbers were trending downwards on his daily tests, which didn’t make sense, except for the fact that he was using arts daily,” I said, stepping up and using a ruler to point to the screen, being too short to easily reach all the way. “Additionally, there’s the odd way that his oripathy is developing. Generally, we see oripathy develop first in the liver and kidneys, along with the spleen and the rest of the lymphatic system. Those are the organs responsible for filtering your body from contaminates, so it follows they would develop crystals first. It’s not completely unheard of for oripathy to develop along the nervous system, however…”

“However the cases where it has are the ones where originium was artificially implanted,” Folinic said with a nod. “Yes, I see.”

“Which leads me to my next point. James is an Earthling. We’ve got eight other cases of Earthlings, who are all remarkably resistant to oripathy. Blitz even had a large fragment of originium embedded in his skin during a mission, had it removed, and did not develop oripathy. That’s practically unheard of, even when first aid is administered as quickly and professionally as it was in his case.”

“Ok, so how the fuck does that explain his levels going down?” Gavial demanded in disgust. 

I gave her a cool look, and she rolled her eyes and quieted. “I’m not finished yet. The final key is how James responded to arts suppressors, and arts amplifiers. His system reacted in completely the opposite manner from what we would expect. To call that highly unusual is an understatement. Now, while further study needs to be done here, I have a working theory, and I think our observations here bear it out.”

“Let us hear your analysis, Dr. Sussurro,” Kal’tsit said, gesturing for me to continue, as I’d paused for comments. 

I took a deep breath, steeled myself, then said, “I think he’s directly using the originium in his system to fuel his arts. He commented that, prior to his infection, he couldn’t use arts at all. Now, that’s not unusual, many people are either incapable of using arts, or have limited capacity, until they develop oripathy. But all of the other Earthlings also have zero capacity for arts. So, when I say he’s using originium to fuel his arts…he’s acting less like an organic organism, and more like an artificial tool like an arts wand.”

Silence as the table mulled it over. Doctor was sitting backwards in their chair, arms wrapped around the chair back. “So, your theory is that Bones is basically a living arts conductor. We’ve seen that before though. Leithanien historically used living arts wands. I read about it during my time there. Scary stuff. In those cases though, the people used inevitably died because they fully crystallized.”

“Correct, that’s the major hole in my theory,” I admitted. 

“It has merit. Further research must be conducted,” Kal’tsit said. “However, we have a larger problem. Dr. McCoy’s infection has greatly increased in severity. His COA is at 12%, and his BOCD is at .39. He is still a stage 2 case, but this is accelerating rapidly. By current estimates, he can cure no more than one or two cases of similar severity before he dies.”

“Texas has a clean bill of health,” Amiya said, glancing at her sheet. “Her numbers are now at the level of impossible anomalies, such as Kjera. No cell integration, 0u/L. The oripathy isn’t just gone. It’s been annihilated.”

We all sat around in silence. It was a miracle. There was no other way to describe it. James had completely cured Cellinina Texas. He’d also manifested healing arts so potent that no one on record, not even the Witch King, Lateran Saints, or legendary Sarkaz Shamans had claimed such powers. He might not be able to bring back the dead, but he could completely reconstruct someone’s body. 

“One thing,” Warfarin said, and all eyes turned to her. “I’ve crunched the numbers. He’s not infected enough.” 

“Explain,” Kal’tsit said, eyes narrowing. 

“Even accounting for his bigger mass, the amount of originium he should have taken in should have killed him, stone cold.  Or, at the very least, infected him so much he was on death’s doorstep. But it manifestly didn’t. He’s not in good shape, but he’s kickin’, and should last a few decades with our best treatment. That said…based on his reaction to arts suppressors…I don’t know that our treatments are a good idea.”

“Put him in surgery,” Doctor said, and all eyes turned to him. “While I’m not a medical doctor, or at least I don’t think I am unless Kal’s been hiding something from me for a while now, I know enough to know that he’s a major asset. Full organ regrowth? Complete blood replacement? Put him in surgery and get him trained for field ops. This is the sort of thing that can not just turn the tide of a battle, but a war.”

“Always you see the potential for violence instead of deeper ramifications!” Kal’tsit snapped. “This man can change the entire world! Do you not know for how long humankind has sought to rid itself of the scourge of oripathy! Do you not realize that we have in our grasp an invaluable resource that can do more than simply win the next brutal conflict, but alter the course of history entirely?”

“Yeah, which is why everyone is going to be gunning for him,” Doctor said. 

Silence met that statement. Even from Kal’tsit. We all knew, just from the short journey back to Rhodes Island, that people were willing to kill to get their hands on James. There was no possible way that once confirmation got out that not only was James capable of curing oripathy, but he possessed the strongest healing arts on record, that people would do nearly anything to get their hands on him. Including going to war. I was no historian or grand strategist, but I hazarded that this was the sort of thing empires could rise and fall over. 

At last, Amiya stood. “I’m approving the onboarding of Dr. James McCoy, Codename Bones, as an operator for Rhodes Island working in the medical department. I haven’t shared this with the entire landship, or all the senior leadership. But at this point it’s going to be impossible to keep this quiet. We’re going to make a formal announcement for internal consumption only. We now have an operator who is capable of suppressing or curing oripathy, but only in limited capacity.”

“Let us hope he is able to somehow metabolize the originium. It is, theoretically, possible that he is able to do so. It is how our more advanced machines use originium as a fuel,” Kal’tsit said. “I would prefer longer to fully study Dr. McCoy’s abilities, but I fear that circumstances will push us to glean all we can from him during only a brief window of opportunity.”

“I think first we need to remember that James is a person, not just a tool,” I said, glaring around the room. It’s a bit hard for me to pull off. Frankly, I am one of the least intimidating people on the landship. There are literal children like Kay and Bubble who are far more imposing than I am. Still, I felt compelled to try to remind everyone that we were talking about a man. A good man, not just a lab experiment. 

“I remind myself of that every day. Along with those we have lost,” Doctor said, standing and coming over to the screen I was by to peer at Texas’ image. For once, I was at eye level with them, and I got a glimpse of pale flesh and milky white eyes. Doctor turned to me. “Keep this one safe, Sussurro. He’s an asset, but don’t let him lose his humanity. We’ve had enough martyrs.”

With that, Doctor wandered off, apparently having said all he wished. 

“I think perhaps we need not worry about Dr. McCoy losing his humanity. If anything, we must prevent his humanity from leading to his death,” Kal’tsit said. “I will make arrangements for his training. Both medically, and in regards to preparation for combat. It would be overly optimistic to believe that he will be able to avoid fighting at all. I fear that the Doctor is correct, and conflict will seek us out.”

“Yes,” Amiya agreed. “Already, there are those who would seek to destroy the Infected. If there is a chance for salvation, they will surely desire to control it for their own ends.”

With that, I was left alone with Warfarin and Gavial. I looked to my seniors, who both looked rather disturbed. 

“That kid ain’t cut out for combat,” Gavial sighed, massaging her temple with her fingertips. “Frankly I think keeping him the hell out of it is the better solution.”

“You’re not going to be there to save his ass forever, Gavial. Doctor is right. The whole damn world is going to be coming for that kid, and not just because he doesn’t know when to shut the hell up,” Warfarin sighed. 

“In James' defense, you told him to speak openly to you,” I said, frowning at her. 

“There’s speaking openly and having no damn tact. Sheesh. We’re gonna have to keep an eye on him. Good work on that report, Sussurro. We’ll see if we can’t burn off some of that originium. If nothing else, having someone that skilled at healing arts will be an asset. At least this idiot is an interesting one.”

“I suppose,” I said as I gathered up my reports. “Do you think we’ll be able to develop new treatment methods based on what we’ve learned?”

“Too soon to tell, but I’ve got some ideas, at least. If we can get Bones to do his magic trick one or two more times with differing cases, that would be great. Too bad it would probably break him, but I’m sure if we tell him a baby purrbeast will die if he doesn’t he’ll get right on it,” Warfarin said, then cackled. 

I saw red for a moment, and I’m not really sure where it came from, but the next thing I knew, my palm was stinging, and Warfrain’s eyes were wide, her head snapped to the side after I’d slapped her. “Patients are NOT experiments, Qassirah! But our colleagues are ESPECIALLY not your lab beasts! Grandmother’s fluffy tail, James IS going to die! Just like the rest of us Infected! And it’s our job to try to save him, not encourage him into an early grave!”

Warfarin blinked at him, touched her cheek, then spat out a little blood. Perhaps I’d hit her harder than I thought…

“Sorry, boss, but you deserved that,” Gavial said, stepping between the two of us. “Lucia, go cool your head, I’ll talk with Warfarin.”

“No, it’s fine,” Warfarin said, shaking her head. She grinned at me, showing bloody teeth. “Didn’t think you had it in you. Staking your claim on him, eh?”

“I’m claiming him as a human being, Qassirah. As my friend. And as a doctor, I’m claiming that we approach this ethically instead of as one of your mad experiments,” I hissed. I could feel my tail bristling. Saints and Angels, it was rare for me to lose my temper like this. But I was worn thin, and, well, this sort of attitude disgusted me on multiple levels. Not to mention I truly did consider James a friend. And not one I wanted to lose any time soon. 

“Fine, fine. Kal would kill me if I tried anything too crazy with him. But I am going to be designing experiments. Need I remind you that we have Vitracline and Oxiomera because of my ‘mad experiments.’ Those Earthlings didn’t even miss the extra blood I took.” 

“And you had consent when you harvested their blood. Even if you did drink a little,” Gavial said, folding her arms over her chest. 

“I did not!” Warfarin huffed. “I’m fully vegetarian now, thank you.”

“Are you?” I demanded “Because you’re acting like you’re one of the monsters from the story I’ve heard as a child!” 

That was probably a bit far, but my blood was up, and when you do manage to get me to lose my temper, I have just as much control over my tongue as James does. 

Warfarin chuckled and shrugged. “You have horror stories told about you long enough, you tend to live up to them, Lucia. But this I can swear: nothing but Sangvita has crossed my lips in six years. It was the last promise I made to Theresa. And it’s one I will keep for the rest of my life, however long it will be.”

“To Theresa?” Gavial seemed baffled by that. “What, the sister of the Sarkaz King we dealt with in Londinium?”

“Huh, guess that blabbermouth managed to keep his lips sealed for once. Gavial, go tell Kal I’m giving you Babel level clearance. You're one of our Elite Operators, and after you called Babel, it’s only fair you know what you did,” Warfarin told her. 

“Alright. But if I hear you’re bullying either Lucia or McCoy, I’m going to have a bone to pick with you, boss,” Gavial said, folding her arms over her chest. “Don’t make me dangle you out a window again.”

I shot Gavial a glance, but Warfarin just laughed. “I wasn’t actually going to dissect Kay, even if she did eat some things she shouldn’t have. But that idiot child hasn’t dared wander back into my lab, so I’d say it was effective. Anyway, we have work to do. Sussurro, go check on James before you pine away. I’ve got samples to analyze." 

I watched Warfarin walk away, my senses still warning me I was in danger. “Did you really defenestrate her?”

“Do what now?”

“Try to drop her out a window.”

“Try nothing. I had her by the heel and would have dropped her just to see if vampires really can turn into a wingbeast. But Kay had eaten a bunch of samples, the feral idiot. That was back right after we found Kay in Bolivar, you were just an intern back then.”

“Ah.” I briefly wondered if James knew anything about Ceobe, but resolved not to ask him. It was something of an open secret in the medical department that Ceobe was actually not a Perro, but rather a Cerberus. She was probably much older than the teenager she appeared to be, but information on Cerberus is spotty. What I had learned was that Kay was the equivalent of an early adolescent, though she had just barely learned to read and write after a great deal of tutoring. 

She was also something of an absolute terror on the battlefield. I’d watched battle records of her ripping apart Rhine Labs security mechs with her arts as casually as I’d pluck a fowlbeast. Then wag her tail and ask if that was worth ‘snackies.’ 

“Well, I’d best go check on James then,” I said, turning to go. 

“Hey, Lucia, you holding a torch for the kid?” Gavial said, which made me freeze at the door. I turned to her cooly, trying to maintain my calm. 

“He is a colleague, with whom I have shared some rather traumatic experiences. He is also a naive idiot who needs a senior attending to keep him from making too big a mess. I am simply looking out for his best interests.”

“Uh huh. Well, don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” Gavial said with a grin. 

I rolled my eyes. “And that limits me in what regard? If half the escapades with coworkers and former patients you claim are true, you are rather busy.”

“Wasn’t trying to limit you! I’d live my life to the fullest, with no regrets! Gonna die sooner rather than later, so why leave anything on the table?” Gavial laughed. 

I sniffed and departed, my heart beating a little faster. I had to ask myself, was I pining for James? No, I decided. I cared for him, but anything deeper were my idiotic bosses watching too many Siracusian soap operas in their free time. 

Then I went and got the fresh Minestrone that had been cooking in Myrrh’s and I’s room, and brought it to James, reminding myself that Denile is not just a river in Sargon.

To my relief, James wasn’t still out cold, but sitting up and looking much better. Less to my relief was the fact that he was laughing with Exusiai about something. She was becoming a dear friend, but, well, perhaps I wasn’t the only one developing an interest in our resident miracle worker. Fine. I was a professional, and I could act like one. 

“Good to see you’re awake, Dr. McCoy,” I said. “Feel up to eating? How about you, Lemuel?”

“Hey, Lucia. Oooo, what smells good?” Exusiai said, perking up as I entered. 

“I could eat,” James said, smiling at me with that boyish grin of his. He looked a bit hollow eyed, and I checked his morphine drip as I handed him a thermos of soup. “I’m fine. I’ve seen enough addicts not to want to depend on a morphine drip. Save it for when I need to sleep. I can live with a little pain.”

“You’re in pain? I thought something was wrong,” Exusiai said, accepting her own thermos. “Maybe you should…”

“It’s fine,” James said, taking a sip. “Hey, this is more than fine! Thanks, Lucia, you made this yourself? Sure doesn’t taste like cafeteria food.”

Despite myself, I found my tail swishing back and forth in delight and my cheeks turning a bit red. Damn tail. It makes concealing your emotions that much harder. I’m not as bad as a Perro, but, well, we canines all suffer the tail give.

Even if mine is far fluffier and more attractive than some thin perro or lupo tail. 

“I did, I thought you deserved a reward for a successful surgery,” I said, sipping at my own soup. Honestly, I immediately started dissecting it for flaws. It just doesn’t taste quite like Nonna Lulu’s minestrone. I can never get it quite right, no matter how I try. But, she’s been dead some 12 years, Saints and Angels guard her soul. 

“Exusiai was just telling me Texas is already up and about. That’s good to hear,” James said with a grin. He sipped at his soup a bit, then casually said, “Hey, Lemuel, why don’t you take Texas some soup. She’d probably appreciate it, being Siracusian herself.”

“That’s a good idea! You’ll watch him, right Lucia?” Exusiai said, getting to her feet. 

“Of course,” I agreed, and handed over the rest of the soup.

“Great! Back in a flash,” and our angel sped off. I hate to admit it, but she really is a lovely person. Most Sankta come off as, well, sanctimonious , or at least patronizing. But Exusiai never did, and her upbeat attitude was rather refreshing. I’m a bit of a natural pessimist, though I consider myself a realist. 

“Alright,” James said, setting aside his thermos and lacing his fingers together. I’d noticed he did that when nervous or scared, so I had a good idea as to what he was about to ask. “What’s my prognosis?”

“You’ve cut years off your lifespan. Your COA has gone up to 12%, and your BOCD is at .39. That’s the sort of increase we usually see after years if someone’s on the proper treatments. You’re bordering on Stage 3. And once you hit stage 3…management can only do so little. If you don’t stop and focus on your health…you’ll be dead shortly. I’m sorry, James.”

I took his hand and squeezed it. He was uncharacteristically silent, looking down at his other palm, where his new lesions were visible. He flexed his fingers a little, closing his eyes and grimacing. 

“I’m turning up your morphine drip,” I told him. 

He didn’t fight me this time, just nodding. I pushed 15 milligrams of morphine, and James’ taut expression quickly relaxed, and he sighed in obvious relief. 

“Am I being an idiot, Lucia?” He asked, opening his eyes. 

“Perhaps. But you’re being a very noble one,” I said, my voice hitching a little. 

“I know it might not seem like it…but I don’t want to die,” James admitted quietly. “But…but if I saw someone else I cared about, dying of oripathy…I don’t know. I might…do something really stupid.”

“Just, wait. We’re analyzing the samples. And…and there’s hope, James,” I told him, then explained my theory that he was burning off the originium in his system, albeit slowly. 

He brightened at hearing that. “Really? You think so? But wait, I thought arts use exacerbated the condition.”

“Ordinarily, yes. Which is why we’ll take this slow. Have you use your arts in a controlled setting. Our hospital and ER are constantly busy. Not only is this a city with 10,000 people, but we have a steady stream of  people who come to the landship for treatment. Not just those suffering from oripathy either. Rhodes Island has a reputation as the best medical treatment available, and, well, we are a PMC. On an average day, we get multiple battle wounded coming in who need treatment. Not to mention the standard injuries you’d expect in a small city with major industrial centers.

James nodded at that. “Alright. It’s worth a shot. And besides, I’ll at least be getting in my trauma rotation as a resident. I’m going to become a doctor, even if it kills me. Eh? Eh?” 

“It would be funnier if I hadn’t done exactly the same thing,” I sighed. “Well, you’ll just have to stick around to keep me from killing myself either.”

“Sounds like a plan. We’ll do it together,” James said. “Oh, that reminds me. I’m really struggling with something and need your help.”

I won’t lie, my heart both skipped a beat, and a sense of existential dread washed over me. What had this idiot done now, and was I really the first person he turned to for help?

“I’m really struggling to get past wave 40. It might be just because I have the dogshit free races, but I think it’s because my mazes suck. I’ve tried experimenting with different formats, but I’d like your feedback,” the colossal idiot said.

I laughed in relief that this wasn’t him deciding how he was going to try curing all the patients in the critical ward. “Oh, really? Show me.”

“Well, I started with a basic row maze, but that seemed inefficient, so I’ve been trying to build a spiral, but I don’t think it’s the most optimal…”

We spent far too long talking about how to build hook double spirals and diagonal switchbacks, along with which races were best for mazing (and thus the easiest starter races) and which complimented them as secondary races. I also went on about abusing certain mechanics to eek out an even higher score, which James absolutely lapped up. I think I might have a new challenger to my throne, once he gets the better premium races unlocked after his first paycheck. 

It was…fun. Some of the most fun I’ve had in a while. 

I had better not be an idiot about this. James is going to be dead inside a year if he keeps this up. I’ll have to keep his head on straight, and mine as well. 

Anyway, I’m looking through my grandmother’s recipe book and wondering where I went wrong with my life.