Area-1

Thomas Histon

Thomas Histon “How is he?” I ask Thomas Histon, the Head Curer of the Health Department.

After finishing the operation, I have ask him to take over my place as the assigned supervisor of this alien patient, while I make an official report of the incident.

Dad expressed his frustration of me taking charge of the situation before reporting back and asking for an official permission, in which I counter with the fact that the patient would have passed out or died waiting for medication while we argue over the phone.

Once the issue is out of the window, dad informs me that the investigation team has managed to locate his planet origin and contacted them about their fallen soldier.

In a day’s time, representatives from Capitol will arrive to collect the boy. And if the news about the recent incident has not put the resident into an uproar before, then this news will.

Area-1 is always excited for something new; that includes new people. I have no doubt that the resident will be looking forward to the chance of meeting our soon-to-be guests.

“Lini, how are you?” He greets me with a hug.

“Fine, thank you. You, too?” I tease him.

He chuckles by my question. “It would be kind of ironic if the healer himself gets sick, wouldn’t it? Anyway, I missed you. It’s been awhile since your last visit.”

“That was a week ago.”

“Still. But I’m glad that you’re here now. Say, shall we grab a drink?”

“I can’t do that now. Maybe next time. I need to check on the patient.”

“Healer Histon, Healer Histon!” an intern runs towards him in a rush. “There is an emergency in room 301, but there was a complication in the surgery. I tried to use the X methods, just like you instructed, but the bleeding won’t stop. What should I—”

“Quit your rambling, young man!” He raises his voice a few octaves rougher than necessary. “And what’s this about complications? With my methods? Unquestionable!” He exclaims, face flushed hot with anger, causing the poor intern to squirm in fear.

It is not so surprising. Histon loses his cool now and then. With an occupation as important as dealing with life and death, and thence to break under pressure. In this case, he vents it out by lashing on every other mistake made. Sometimes even when people just walk by.

Healer Histon lets out a long breath, fingers rubbing against his forehead, thinking really hard. “Did you even remember to check on the nano virus maintenance?”

The intern turns green this instance, before hesitantly shaking his head.

“Well then, what are you waiting for? Scram! Fix your mistake! And make sure you don’t repeat it again!”

We watch as the healer intern rushes back to the direction he came from.

“I’m sorry about the interference,” he turns back to me, his anger subdued, “Now, let’s see. Patient 506….” He scans through his head screen. “He is recovering excellently, I must say. You did an excellent job. He’s in his room now.”

“That was hardly anything.” Not trying to sound arrogant, but several years back, when I was still a novice working in this department, I used to go under hands-on operations plenty of times.

If we already have such advanced technology, why would we bothered getting our hands dirty, you ask? Because it is for emergency training, in case we encounter a situation where we can not get help from an operation chamber.

We arrive at the Capitolian chambers. The walls consist of bullet-proof glass, so even though it is also sound-proof, we can still see what our patient is up to.

He has his back turned to us, doing some maneuvers I am not quite familiar with.Though based on how fluid he moves, I can tell that this must be one of his people’s well-known self-defence technique.

“I see that you’ve gotten the hang of things,” I comment upon walking in. His body grows rigid as he stops whatever he is doing, and turns toward us slowly.

His cybernetic crystal blue eyes move ever so slowly, zooming in and out rather frantically. Perhaps he has not really gotten used to the new set of eyes after all.

All of a sudden, he takes three big steps towards me. That is when I really notice the huge difference between us. My standard height only reaches to his shoulder even with my heels on. An Arean is rarely this tall naturally. Not to mention those glaring, bulging muscles. No wonder he is a soldier from Capitol. Being inside a Knightframe makes you see things differently. That is why I did not really take interest on these facts before.

Otherwise, he looks healthy. His skin is no longer pale and covered in blood and sweat, but instead a clean, healthy bright tone. His hair is also combed nicely, not damped and messy.

The Capitolian extends his ripped fist, taking my hand in his. He tightens his palm around my smaller one, engulfing it in his much larger one. Then he stares into my eyes, something registering in his mind.

“It’s you,” he says.

“Yes,” I simply reply.

“You were the one who helped me and saved my life.”

Before I can reply, Healer Histon interrupts. “Yes, yes, you’ve established that. Now, move along.” he grunts annoyedly. “Good Origin! I hope you’re not one of those retarded brawn types,” he comments rather crudely, same as always.

The (very tall) boy shoots a glare at the professor behind me, so carnal and full of hatred that it makes me want to take a step back by instinct.

“I don’t have to take orders from you, Shark!” the boy’s voice booms through the room so deeply, I can feel the vibration in the air.

Shark? Why is he calling Healer Histon a shark? He doesn’t look like a shark to me. If anything, that expression is much more suitable for Michael.

Daring to challenge the patient, Healer Histon takes a quick long stride to match him up. “And I don’t like an uninvited patient to act so rudely to my disciple. Get your hand off her. Now,” he commands authoritatively. Decades of leading the galaxy’s number one hospital chain must have made great practice.

Instead of letting go, he tightens the hold on my wrist and pulls me closer, causing my nostrils to catch a scent of him. “I am not yours to command,” he grunts through his teeth.

Healer Histon is wearing his mechanical gloves, so I know that he will not hesitate to use force if he wants to. And although the boy is a Capitolian soldier, he is no match for a machine.

“Alright, that’s enough,” I step in between the two to prevent a fight from breaking out. “We are not barbarians, so let’s not fight.”

“There is one in the room,” Healer Histon says sneeringly. What has gotten into him?

“Better than a greedy shark,” the boy bites back.

“Healer Histon, you’re not helping. If you can’t cease this behavior, please wait outside.” That seems to get him to stop. He steps away and stands near the door.

“Now that you are no longer distracted, I would like to inform you that we have contacted your planet origin. Representatives will be sent here to pick you up tomorrow. Isn’t that great?”

Instead of a happy smile, a frown appears in between his brows.

“What’s the matter? Are you not satisfied?”

“No, it’s not that. I am grateful that you helped me and even gave me a place to stay. But, this is just so soon.”

“So soon? But, don’t you want to go back?”

“Yes, of course I do. It’s just that,” he hesitates for a moment, “won’t you let me stay a little bit longer?”

I think about his request for a moment. “How long?”

“I’m not sure. A month, maybe?”

“A MONTH?!” Healer Histon explodes behind us, but I ignore him.

“I’ll see what I can do. The High Commander must give consent before anything.”

“Then perhaps I can speak to the High Commander myself, if he chooses.” They do not necessarily have to meet, but that doesn’t mean Dad has the time to do so.

“Why do you want to stay longer in Area-1, anyway? What business do you have here?” Perhaps him crash landing on this planet was not a coincidence after all?

“I’m just grateful of your help. I know that the Areans do not see money as something valuable, but I have other ways to repay your kindness.”

“That is unnecessary. Here in Area-1, we do not use money for the society to work. Instead, we contribute our skills to them. You don’t have to worry about medical fees, which I know you are charged with back in Capitol. Plus, our drones already finished repairing the damages caused by the crash as we speak.”

His eyes cybernetic eyes fixes on me, as if searching for something.

“How about you? I do owe you, after all. And as you said, your people pay back by contributing your skills. I’m sure there is something I can do to help.”

“I’m fine with it. I won’t require you to pay me back. Just don’t crash land on us again will be enough.”

“What about the nano virus? I heard that you had injected it into me. Doesn’t that cost a lot?”

“Only to outsiders,” Professor Hilton says.

“If you think it’s a bother to owe us anything, you are welcome to give it back later.”

“That’s not what I mean—”

“Then why do you insist on staying? Is there a hidden agenda we should know about?”

“What? No—”

“Why then?” I ask. “Be honest and straight to the point. I don’t like people who beat around the bushes.”

The boy looks at me in the eyes. I can see a slight red discoloration in his face starting to creep out, especially around the cheeks.

“I… I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

That is unexpected. “It’s just the adrenaline playing with your head. You were dying and I just happen to be there to save you. Humanoids are known to experiencing this type of side effect when faced with danger.”

“No, it’s not like that.”

“Then how do you explain your sudden feelings for me?”

“Wha— Girl, have you never fallen in love before?”

“Do I look like I have?” I can hear Healer Histon trying to contain his laughter in the background. “Besides, I don’t even know your name.” That’s it. The dam’s been broken. Healer Histon ends up laughing out loud, causing the boy to blush harder, this time out of humiliation.

“Didn’t your investigator tell you?”

“No. I guess they didn’t think it was that important.”

“Are you saying I’m not important?”

“No. Don’t twist my words, please. I hate people who do that.”

“Wait, no. Stop saying that word,” and then he adds, “please.”

Another series of laughter erupts from Healer Histon. “Look at you! Begging like a love sick puppy already. That’s just pathetic.”

“Healer Histon, you are being mean to a patient. That’s unnecessary,” I tell him, then I turn back to the boy again. “And you. What you do mean by stop?”

“Saying that word. ‘Hate’. I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Fine by me.”

“My name is Cato, by the way. Cato Ludwig.”

“And your title?”

“I’m a sergeant.”

“So it’s Sergeant Cato Ludwig?”

“You can call me Cato.”

“Nice to meet you, Cato. I’m Lini Dynasty, the Department Head of Futurology.”

“Wait, Dynasty? Does that mean you’re the High Commander’s daughter?”

“It’s been a while since someone asked me that question,” I say with a hint of distaste, “but the answer is yes.”

“I just said something you didn’t like, didn’t I?”

He does not need a reply for that one.