Descending Road - A VACUUM JOB by Dana W. Paxson

A VACUUM JOB

0 NC, Day 1, Hour 16

“Got a vacuum job for you, Miriam. Sorry.” Elena and a man Miriam didn’t know slung an inert form through the doorway. “He’s down cold. No pulse and no base wave.” Elena turned to answer the next call, and disappeared.

Another vacuum hit. Miriam had been lucky enough to avoid these after Carrie Annakouri – the staff had steered them to other doctors whenever they could. Now there was nobody to spare. She bent over the man, checking his ruptured skin, the inert pupillary, the airway, jabbing him with electronics and fluid and gas feeds.

A voice in her ear. “Is he gonna come out, doctor?”

Oh, fine. A loyal buddy. “Shouldn’t you be back at work?” she snapped, her hands moving automatically over the battery of support links. “Get out of this area and let me take care of your friend. Where’s his tag?”

“He’s Doug MacNee. He saved my life. I’m not leaving him now, not until I know.”

The name ‘MacNee’ rang in her head, but she couldn’t tell why. “Fine. Then act like a medic, ah, Enrique, and get this coverall off him.” She handed the man a stripping blade, and started oxygen. “Not there. Legs first, outer seams, to the waist. Peel off the lower half first. Good.”

“Shit, it’s awful. Look at the-”

“Now stand clear, damn it!”

Her hands flew, and she found the wafer at the man’s crotch, glancing briefly at the topmost image. The traces were flat. Again and again she pulsed the cardioverter, and sent brain-resonance pulses up the base of his neck, and all the while her mind buzzed, Not again, not again, please come up, please, whoever you are. Please.

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	A VACUUM JOB 0 NC, Day 1, Hour 16 “Got a vacuum job for you, Miriam. Sorry.” Elena and a man Miriam didn’t know slung an inert form through the doorway. “He’s down cold. No pulse and no base wave.” Elena turned to answer the next call, and disappeared. Another vacuum hit. Miriam had been lucky enough to avoid these after Carrie Annakouri – the staff had steered them to other doctors whenever they could. Now there was nobody to spare. She bent over the man, checking his ruptured skin, the inert pupillary, the airway, jabbing him with electronics and fluid and gas feeds. A voice in her ear. “Is he gonna come out, doctor?” Oh, fine. A loyal buddy. “Shouldn’t you be back at work?” she snapped, her hands moving automatically over the battery of support links. “Get out of this area and let me take care of your friend. Where’s his tag?” “He’s Doug MacNee. He saved my life. I’m not leaving him now, not until I know.” The name ‘MacNee’ rang in her head, but she couldn’t tell why. “Fine. Then act like a medic, ah, Enrique, and get this coverall off him.” She handed the man a stripping blade, and started oxygen. “Not there. Legs first, outer seams, to the waist. Peel off the lower half first. Good.” “Shit, it’s awful. Look at the-” “Now stand clear, damn it!” Her hands flew, and she found the wafer at the man’s crotch, glancing briefly at the topmost image. The traces were flat. Again and again she pulsed the cardioverter, and sent brain-resonance pulses up the base of his neck, and all the while her mind buzzed, Not again, not again, please come up, please, whoever you are. Please.