(The story so far resides here: ofourmaker.com/2023/10/17/adolphus-search-and-rescue )
Gibbsen moved over so that Gareth could take up a long thin ear that sprouted from the instrument panel. Into this ear Gareth spoke:
“Received one woman, suffering from an unknown illness, all of us uninjured: when I arrive, have Dr. Kilver, Mundbern, and Raleigh ready to meet us. My thanks.”
Dr. Kilver of course, but Gibbsen was puzzled by Gareth’s request for the other two: a technician and a cook?
As the chopper settled at the station, the girl’s eyes gleamed in the bright lights, and she pressed close to Gareth. But when they had ceased to move she got out of his lap, staggered, and put her hands on the floor. Gareth told her she could be carried on a stretcher, but she shook her head.
“Flying feels good. Hold my hand.”
She walked beside him with an odd gait, and an odd stoop, hanging much of her (little) weight on his wiry grip.
Dr. Kilver met them, carrying a prickly worm in a test-tube, into which he introduced some of the girl’s spittle; he also had a thing like a television remote control, with a reptilian snout protruding from one end, to which he fed a little bit of the girl’s hair. Then he gave her some water, put a blanket over her shoulders, and hurried away.
Mundbern approached, in his plain military uniform, which looked like it had been died in, perhaps more than once. Raleigh was currently dressed in something which might have been worn at an old theatre; by an actor or spectator, Gibbsen didn’t see much difference.
“Judging by the placement,” Mundbern said, “I’m sure this one was a most difficult extraction.”
“But,” Mundbern went on, pointing a black metal rod at the girl, “how do you know this is a human?”
To be continued.
#DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM #AdolphusSearchAndRescue 2023/10/16