100TWC - Day 87: Gunshot

Nal refolded the jacket and pressed it again to the wound in Chang's side.

"Nearly there," he said. "How you doing?"
"How the hell do you think I'm doing?" Chang gasped. His pallor was turning an ash grey and his face and neck were slick with sweat. The autocab's air conditioning had kicked in to try and cope with the increased humidity.

"Can you speed it up any?" Nal said into the intercom.
"Maximum speed is regulated by statute," the cab intoned. "Arrival at Central Medical in 27 seconds."

*

They stood on the sidewalk outside Central Medical. Chang was breathing with difficulty and leaning heavily on Nal. They crabbed their way to the automatic doors. As they entered, blue sensor panels on either side of the corridor scanned them. Ahead, on a suspended monitor, their details were instantly displayed.

GERSHWIN, NAL. : 07-27-2096 : BMI 27 : H 2.02m : BP 119/82 : A+ : ALC 0mg/100ml : NAD.
NG, CHANG : 03-03-2097 : BMI 21 : H 1.98m : BP 130/75 : O- : ALC 0mg/100ml : OPEN WOUND TO ABDOMEN - CAUSE UNKNOWN. CRITICAL BLOOD LOSS DETECTED.

Chang's entry was flashing red and a robot auxiliary was already approaching to administer a saline drip. Nal led him to a bench and sat beside him while the drip was attached. He had no idea what was going to happen next. He had never been to a hospital. At least, not since he was born in one.

Chang's condition appeared to have confused the hospital's system. Nal suspected that "cause unknown" was an extremely rare occurrence. He wondered if they would have called the police. A man in green scrubs rounded the corner in front of them.

"Which one is Mr. Ng?" he asked.

Nal thought the question a little superfluous in view of Chang's obvious discomfort but even so he kept his temper.
"This is Chang," he said. "I'm Nal."
The doctor tapped out a command on his wristcom. "Come with me please," he said, as a motorised wheelchair emerged from a set of double doors further down the corridor and sped across to position itself in front of Chang. Nal helped him in, and the chair took off after the doctor. Nal followed it into an examination room.

"Are you a relative?" asked the doctor as Nal entered.
"No, but he's my friend," Nal replied.
The doctor frowned. "Well, if Mr. Ng has no objections I suppose it'll be all right."
Chang nodded, his pain a beacon on his face.
The doctor pressed a button on the side of the chair and it morphed swiftly with a hydraulic sigh into an examination table. He selected a pair of surgical scissors from a receptacle in the side of the table and proceeded to cut away Chang's shirt.
"You've lost a lot of blood," he said, peeling back the tattered ends of cloth. He reached for a swab and cleaned away the clotted mass. His eyes widened.
"How did you do this?"
Chang turned his head away. The doctor looked at Nal.
"Do you know anything about this?"
"I didn't see it happen, if that's what you mean," Nal replied.
"This is a gunshot wound."
"A what?"
"I'm not surprised you've never heard of it. What are you - 21? 22?"
"I'm 24. He's 23."
"Well I haven't seen a wound like this in almost 40 years," said the doctor. "Almost 20 years before you were born. And that was the first one my registrar had seen since he took up his post. There haven't been any guns in this city for almost half a century."
"What do you mean? My dad has a gun."
"You mean a zapper? That won't cause damage like this. This is a bullet wound. From a projectile weapon. The bullet is still inside him. How the hell did he get shot?"