Tevun-Krus #79 - LGBTQ+ SF

Last Chance - A Short Story by @elveloy

It was 3 a.m. before Doctor Alice Roark stripped off her gloves, threw them in the disposer and sat down for the first time that shift. She flopped into the chair, her eyes closing as soon as her head hit the fake leather headrest. Now if only there were a god, or even a friendly spirit watching over her, she could catch a few minutes sleep. She wasn't greedy—half an hour or even twenty minutes would do—just enough to give her flagging energy a boost.

She got five minutes.

"Doctor Roark? You're needed in Admittance," an urgent voice in her left ear caused Alice to jerk upright. "Immediately."

"Wha-?" she asked, groggy from the too-short nap.

"Gunshot to the chest," the voice answered, as if she had asked a meaningful question. Alice shook the last cobwebs from her brain and stood up, automatically pulling on a clean pair of gloves and a fresh white coat. She'd walk through the decontamination chamber later, when it was time to begin surgery.

She pushed through the swing doors into Admittance and saw emergency personnel rushing a laden trolley toward her from the direction of the hospital entrance. A police officer kept pace alongside, his eyes drawn to the man on the trolley.

"I need a doctor, now!" shouted one of the paramedics.

"I'm the doctor," said Alice, coming up alongside the moving trolley. "Let's get him straight through to the operating room," she continued, seeing the blood-soaked uniform, ripped open across his chest to expose the damage. The paramedics had done what they could, packing the wound with hemostatic gauze and supplying oxygen through a tube inserted down the man's throat.

"Gunshot wound in the chest," explained one of the paramedics. "We had an emergency call at two fifty-one and reached him three minutes later. Officer Sanchez here was applying pressure, but the victim was still bleeding out. Got him here as fast as we could."

Alice spared a glance to the officer who was hurrying alongside. "You did a good job," she said, "but now it's up to us. You can watch from the observation window if you'd like."

The paramedics pushed the trolley into the nearest treatment room and transferred the patient to the operating table in one quick movement. Alice took the opportunity to walk through the adjoining decontamination chamber while her nursing team, already wearing sterilised gowns and gloves, cut away the remains of the man's uniform and prepared him for surgery. A quick scan showed the placement of the bullet, lodged dangerously close to the man's heart.

Alice bent over the patient and peeled away the bandage. The wound was gaping, bloody and ugly. "This doesn't look good. Has he signed the no-liability clause?" Alice spoke as her hands worked, trying to save the officer's life.

One of the paramedics nodded. "First thing we checked before we brought him here."

"We're losing him!"

Alice checked the monitor, registering the critical information. "Right," she announced in even tones. "I'm calling a termination event. I'm injecting N-23, one standard dose."

The senior nurse handed her a syringe, and Alice injected the contents into the large vein nearest the heart. Alice continued to work swiftly, probing gently to remove the bullet while nurses swabbed away the blood. She had to keep him alive until the nanobots could work their magic.

"What are his chances, doc?" asked the man's partner, anxiously, from the other side of the observation window.

"It's going to be close," admitted Alice. "He's sustained a lot of damage. But if the nanobots have time to repair the worst of it, he'll have a fighting chance." We just have to keep him alive until that happens, she added, silently.