CD Chapter Twelve

Ava just lifted her eyebrows, and Amythyst’s lower lip popped out into a pout. “Fine,” the GM muttered, “but don’t say I didn’t try.” She lifted a finger and pointed above her head. An image appeared there; some kind of official-looking ID, but with Ava’s face on it. Ava frowned, waiting for the explanation.

Amy bit her lip, chewing nervously, before she went on. “Look, I know you’re not going to be happy about this, but I needed to know what I was working with, so I did a little… digging. I know your mom died last year, and that she was bedridden for a while before that. You got certification as a home health aide, along with some additional training so you could take care of basic medical things; changing her IV, doing minor wound care, taking her vitals, things along that line.” She looked up, obviously waiting for Ava to comment.

Ava’s teeth were clenched too tight to speak, but she nodded stiffly, and Amythyst plowed on. “The person I want you to help is also bed-bound, and her family is looking for someone to add to her care team. They hired the most highly trained people they could find who were willing to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement that they would never speak about the patient to anyone outside the house, ever.”

Forcing her lips to part, Ava said bitterly, “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t watch anyone else die. That’s why I’m working retail instead of helping old ladies remember to drink enough water!” She reached up, fully intending to turn off the screen, but from beneath her hand, she heard Amythyst’s muffled voice call out, “I said you could save her! Ava! If you go, I promise, she won’t die. But if things keep going the way they are, she might.”

Ava moved her hand, looking down into Amythyst’s small, pleading face. Hoarsely, she said, “Keep talking.”

Amythyst leaned forward, no longer relaxed. Every line of her body was tight, filled with suppressed energy. She truly cared about this. “The woman was in an accident - well, not entirely an accident, but that doesn’t matter right now - but she had some pretty severe brain trauma. She was in a medically induced coma for nearly a month, while her body recovered, and the swelling and bleeding in her brain went down. They knew she’d have some,” Amythyst hesitated, “deficits, when she woke, but they believed she would wake up and recover a significant portion of her physical and cognitive abilities.”

Translation: the woman was brain-damaged, and the doctors really had no clue how bad it would be, because they never did, or if they did, in Ava’s experience they were usually wrong anyway.

“But when they withdrew the medication, she didn’t wake up,” Amythyst went on. Her face was pale, and her mossy eyes refused to look at Ava. “They weren’t too surprised. Coma following damage as extensive as hers is not exactly unexpected. But it went on for months. They detected some brain activity, but it was so minimal, all but a few people gave up hope.”

A tear trickled down Amythyst’s face. “And then her father withdrew her from care. As next of kin, he refused to let anyone else see her. He hired his own staff, and he had enough money to essentially add a hospital suite to his house. They had everything they needed to care for her body without going anywhere.”

The GM sniffled, swiping at the tear with the back of her hand. “Her father… decided to retire. He packed up everything, paid off anyone who knew anything, and moved halfway across the country, taking her with him. On the way,” Amythyst smiled uncertainly, “I believe she woke up. The data is there, if you know to look for it. The things he needed, the people he hired, everything shifted to what you’d need to care for someone with minimal function, instead of none. But, there’s still no sign of her. No contact. I know, know, that she would have reached out to her best friend, if she could. The fact that she hasn’t means that one of a few things is going on.”

The digital avatar raised a forefinger. “First, she’s being held prisoner. I don’t think this is likely, but her father has become… a little irrational, since her accident. He’s paranoid, overprotective, and reclusive. He won’t even speak to his own son. Says Hank is ‘on their side’, but won’t say who ‘they’ are.” The GM rolled her eyes.

“Now, the second option,” another finger joined the first, “and the one I consider more likely, is that she’s still in the early stages of recovery. She only woke a few months ago. She could be out of the coma, but otherwise unresponsive. Hopefully, she’s at least minimally responsive; follows simple directions, reacts to sudden noises, may even look like she recognizes people, but probably can’t speak. Once she’s able to communicate, we’ll be edging back into the first option, because there’s no way she wouldn’t reach out to Bridge if she could.”

Amythyst stood, picking up the app icon and setting it back up. She began to pace, sounding like she was talking to herself as much as Ava by now. “I’ve tried everything I could think of to get in-” she glanced up, then corrected herself, “I mean, find out what’s going on in there. He’s a computer nerd, and he’s smart. He’s locked down and encrypted his system, so not a byte of data can escape. I can still hack the systems of the people and companies he works with, though, and I know he recently ordered three top-of-the-line, not even officially released yet, VR pods. They have all the bells and whistles, and there’s only one person he cares enough about to get something like that for.”

Ava nodded, drawn into the drama in spite of herself. “You think they’re for her. And him. But why three?”

Amythyst nodded. “I do. It hasn’t been announced yet, but… some people in the R&D department at Veritas Corp have been working on a way to use VR tech to help people with cognitive deficits as a result of injury recover more quickly and easily. We - they - had even managed to establish communication with a few patients who were in long-term comas. It wasn’t much, just getting them to turn a virtual light on and off, but it was there. If Am - this woman - is in a minimally conscious state, there’s an excellent chance that the system that was under development could help her.”

She held up a flat palm when Ava opened her mouth to ask another question. “But back to your last question. Why three?” She stopped in the middle of Ava’s screen, gnawing her lip anxiously. “I think he wants to have someone else go in after her. He’s a gamer, but he’s old-school. He never really liked VR, even though he could see that it was the future of gaming, and stood to be a trillion-dollar industry. When he goes in, he never relaxes. He walks, talks, and acts like he’s the robot, not the programmed NPCs. He is, frankly, hopeless.” A little smile touched her mouth.

If Ava hadn’t been certain that Amythyst didn’t like the man, she would have called the tone of that last statement ‘fond exasperation’. The GM was definitely sending some contradictory messages. Was she friends with the girl, or her father? Were they just friends, or some kind of family? Was Amythyst actually this ‘Bridge’, trying to figure out what had happened to her friend? But then, she should just be furious with the man who was obviously determined to come between them.

“In any case,” Amythyst went on, “if he wants to use the Coma Protocols, he’s going to have to have someone else do it for him. It requires a delicate touch, and the ability to adapt to whatever happens. Two things he’s never been good at. Add that together with this,” she waved a hand, and the fake ID was replaced by a short text blurb that looked like a job offer, albeit a strange one.

Looking for a young, female companion for an invalid. Must be a Medical Assistant, HCC, and NAHC certified, and have at least five years prior experience in the medical field. Must have ocular and auditory implants. Must be proficient at playing Veritas Online, with preference going to high-level clerics or artisans. Salary $250,000 per year. Required one year contract. MUST be willing to sign a strict Non-Disclosure Agreement regarding the patient, the patient’s care, and anything having to do with the position, including where you work, or with whom.

Ava blinked at the salary, but shook her head. “Is that even legal?”

One corner of Amythyst’s mouth twitched in an uncharacteristically sardonic smile. “Anything is legal if you can throw enough money at it.” She shrugged, and the text flowed away as if swirling down a drain, and the ID reappeared. “Now, Ava Gardner would never qualify, but Ava Shaw is almost exactly what they want. Not quite perfect, because that’d probably trigger some suspicion. You’re a little too young to have everything they want, plus all the experience they’re asking for, and they’ll know it the first time they look at you. But if you have everything else and fall a smidge short on experience, well,” she waggled a hand, “good enough. Especially if there are no other qualified applicants.”

“Wait, why wouldn’t there be any other applicants?” Ava asked.

Amythyst grinned. “Because no one nearly as qualified as our Ms. Shaw will ever see this ad. D- He entrusted an agency with the first round of interviews, and that company just put this out there, where anything could happen to it. If it gets sent out to the wrong people, and some of those people are willing to try to fake their way in to get a chance at a quarter of a million dollars, then when a viable candidate shows up, she’s bound to be snapped up in a heartbeat, don’t you think?”

Ava leaned back in her chair, awkwardly running her hand through her messy hair. “You think I can fake it because of the certifications I got to help Mom.”

Amythyst nodded confidently. “With a little prep and behind-the-scenes help, definitely. I know a little bit about the medical field, so if you get stuck, I’m sure I can get you through it.”

“Which leads me to the next problem. I have no implants,” Ava said, dryly.

Kicking the icon for the manga app over again, Amythyst flopped back down. She snapped her fingers, and Ava’s screen chirped.

@AmythystRidesAUnicorn has transferred US$50,000 to your account.

“Holy crap!” Ava dropped her screen, then scrambled to pick it back up again, staring at the self-satisfied grin on Amythyst’s face. “Is that real? You just sent me fifty grand?”

Amythyst tucked her hands behind her head, kicking up her feet so she could rest them on the swoop of a bird wing on a fallen icon. “Yup. You have an appointment to get your implants on Monday, too. At the University, so no worries that it’s some back-alley hack job. Pre-paid, too, so the fifty thou is all yours, to pay for expenses between now and when you get hired. Recovery takes about six weeks, but you’ll be functional after fourteen days, give or take.

“Now,” she raised an arm, staring at her bare wrist, “you need to either get back to work, or go tell your boss you’re quitting, and find a nice restaurant where you can get a meal with some protein. It’s nice that you eat lots of fruits and vegetables, as nasty as some of them are, but that’s not all your body needs, you know. I’d suggest the second option, but it’s up to you.”

With that, she vanished, and the only sign the conversation had really happened were the scattered icons on Ava’s screen, and the five happy green numbers in her bank balance.