“Detective Chuan... would you take word of Detective Westmorland being here back to your... was it called the district house? To her boss? I think she should be available in the morning, so we can send her back then, if you think that's alright? That way you can go now and not have to listen to us talking about, um, lady things?” Keeping how delicate their sensibilities were in mind all the time took work for Gwen.
She kept feeling like dropping in a few choice words every now and then that she was pretty sure even most of the men here wouldn't know. That or start asking about the local version of a donkey show or something, just to see their reactions. They must have something, since they didn't have the internet for porn. That or they all had a lot of hobbies.
The small man didn't have to be asked to carry the message twice it seemed, if it got him out of the room before this talk of intimate women's issues took place. He left a number where he could be reached with her and the nurse and left quickly, promising to be back in the morning to pick up Miss Westmorland, if not him personally, at least someone would be, Chuan added as he left.
Apparently she'd gotten this one right, because the nurse smiled at her warmly, then shifted her gaze back to Bethany, a look of apprehension clear in her eyes.
“Hey, Bethany... Do you think you could go with Nurse Rogers here to the bath, or showers, and get cleaned up before bed? Just do what she asks you to, alright?” Worried that the woman may not have the energy to make it, she watched her closely.
Without speaking, Bethany stood and waited.
Seeing this the nurse simply walked out of the room, looking over her shoulder to check if the other woman followed, which she did, docilely.
About forty minutes later, Bethany came back, following the older woman, wearing a long cloth gown like Gwen herself wore. It beat the paper gowns most hospitals back home used, if only because these actually covered your behind when you stood. It should at least, she hadn't tried it yet. On the negative side, they wrapped around your legs a bit when you moved, even just shifting in bed, which was annoying. Gwen longed for a pair of sweat pants to sleep in, but somehow doubted this world had them.
Seeing that the other woman staggered a little as she walked, being so tired, Gwen suggested Bethany get into bed and go to sleep immediately.
“How long should I sleep?” the detective asked innocently.
Gwen thought about this carefully before speaking, getting the idea that the detective, while possibly brilliant – at least the other detective had seemed to think so – could be stunningly literal, so telling her to sleep as long as she could might be a bad idea. She might hibernate like a bear for months or something.
“Nurse Rogers, what time is it right now?” Gwen looked at the woman in her white uniform and cape, not seeing a watch, but knowing that she'd have some way to find out the time. Nurses had to, because too many things in a hospital worked to exacting schedules.
Pulling a watch, large and gold in color, from the pocket on the front of her uniform, she told them, her voice sounding crisp and slightly English to Gwen, “It's fifteen minutes after three right now.”
Doing some quick mental math, Gwen told Bethany to try and sleep for fifteen hours. That would get her up at six in the morning, more or less, which seemed alright with Nurse Rogers at least. She wondered how closely to this the other woman would manage to get without a clock of any sort.
Bethany didn't say anything, she simply worked the mechanism on the side of the bed, lowering the hand rail without asking for help and without hesitation. Gwen would have had to get someone to show her how it worked to do the same thing. The mechanism was just too different from what she knew. The coppery nib, looked like it should be a button, but when she pushed it, or tried to slide it, nothing happened at all. Then, after climbing under the covers, she laid back and, as far as Gwen could tell, instantly went to sleep.
Looking at Bethany and then giving Gwen a strange look, Nurse Rogers told her she'd be back with her afternoon tea shortly after four. She left using quick, efficient steps, probably needing to get to her other patients, having just had an hour bitten out of her day by the demands Gwen had placed on her. Thinking about it, Gwen decided to give the lady a fourth mark on her mental list, letting her tie for first place with Mrs. Williamson, a neighbor of hers that always gave her a fruitcake at the holidays, Gwen being a freak recluse or not.
For the rest of the day, Gwen sat, trying to figure out what the device next to her did. It looked like something a mad scientist might have in their lab, rumbling at her, the top section seeming to produce a sense of warmth, but without actual heat. She could feel it, but it didn't make a lot of sense to her.
When the doctor came back in, she finally just asked about it. When in doubt, admit ignorance and try to learn, rather than stay in the dark.
He looked at her, surprised at her interest.
“That?” He pointed to it, confirming that she did indeed mean the device next to her. “It's a radiative device on the top, sending out waves of positive energy, magic attuned specifically to healing, and in the cabinet here on the bottom is a device that produces a set of sounds, around fourteen to twenty-four hertz... I don't know if that makes sense to you, being, well, not from here...” He tried to be delicate even about that, she noticed, as if it would be disruptive to her to think about.
She just nodded, slowly and carefully.
“Hertz, that means waves per second here, right?” This seemed likely to her, but she really wanted the confirmation.
The doctor beamed at her.
“Yes! That's exactly right. That range, fourteen to twenty-four, is the main healing range for human tissues, at least as far as sound goes. Using constant exposure to such sounds, you'll heal much faster than you would without, and the additional energy from the coil helps to keep you alive while healing. Normally you produce plenty of such energy on your own, of course, but in a hospital situation, we've found over the years that it's of immeasurable help and aid in rapid healing.” He spoke with confidence, as if these things weren't just pseudoscience here. She felt pretty certain he'd have been laughed out of a modern hospital in her world for saying such things, if not thrown out by security. Then again, she was still alive, so these people must be doing something right.
The blond doctor turned and glanced at the sleeping form of the detective in the bed next to hers, only a few feet away. The woman slept soundly, almost unmoving, except to reposition herself about once every ninety minutes or so. Gwen had seen her eyes twitch, showing REM sleep, so Gwen knew she dreamed. Bethany hadn't shown any other outward sign of it yet.
“You know, Miss Farris, you're quite kind... sharing your room with a Westmorland. No one else in the women's ward had been willing, and you stepped forward without hesitation. Silly superstitions and prejudice on the part of the others, but...” He held his hands up, turning his palms toward the ceiling, but his shoulders didn't shrug at all, the move a bit different than anything she had noticed before. “Still, a kind thing indeed. Please let us know if either of you need anything.”
As seemed to be the habit here, he left without saying goodbye. It seemed that people leaving didn't do that very often, say something as they left, certainly not if they might be coming back within even a few hours. She added this to her internal list of things to notice, just in case there was something to it. It could just be a business, or even a hospital, thing. If not, her saying goodbye all the time could end up being off-putting or maybe even rude. For all she knew saying it the wrong way could be a curse or a death threat or something.
The night nurse came in after dinner and gave her another shot of heroin, which she didn't feel she really needed but made sleeping easier. How people got hooked on the stuff was easy to see, a feeling of warmth and pleasure washed over her after a few seconds, temporarily removing all cares, all worries and left her feeling, good. Happy. She could still think, though nothing seemed all that pressing or important. Gwen was in a different world? Cool. Nothing to worry about there. Not at all. Stabbed in the heart? Well, what's a little stabbing between friends, right? No big thing.
She'd have to watch that. It would be too easy for her to pick up a bad habit like that, in this new situation, which wouldn't do at all. It didn't have to be drugs, it could be almost anything. Too much food, too much of whatever the local entertainment was, anything really. She'd need all her wits here just to survive. Especially if she wanted to help find and take down these killers.
Gwen didn't know the rules here. Not even the little social ones that everyone else took for granted. Who was allowed in the room when, or why everyone seemed uneasy around Bethany, even if the detective did stare a lot. Or for that matter why an obviously handicapped woman was a full detective here. Their version of equal opportunity? She couldn't even begin to understand how much she'd have to learn in order to survive.
One thing she did know though, these killers were like mad dogs. Smiles and friendly behavior or not. Really that had kind of made it worse. They'd killed before and they wouldn't stop until someone stopped them and from what the detectives had said, so far their best lead was Gwen.
So it was up to her to make sure they didn't kill any more innocent people if she could help it. Whatever that took.
Chapter four
Gwen opened her eyes – the room mainly dark, a figure standing next to her, looming – only the shattering pain in her chest as she rolled toward the figure, throwing a punch with her left fist, caused her to pull back in time. Barely. She could just vaguely make out the form of Bethany, the detective, in the low light that the hospital used at night, probably so that the nurses could check on people without waking them constantly.
“Fuck! Ow, that hurts.” She tried to breathe through the pain, hoping she hadn't ripped anything open with the move. Seeing that the other woman didn't shift at all, not even to step back from her aborted punch, Gwen asked what was wrong.
Her voice sounding better, the other woman answered crisply, far more energetic than before.
“I've worked through several possible scenarios as to what the perpetrators of these killings may do next, and have reduced the most likely actions down to two possibilities. The first is a similar attack, most likely within three days and no more than five miles from the point of your own assault. The second is sooner, but we have no chance of stopping it from happening, lacking time to gather the needed data, so our resources will be better spent on the first possibility.” Then she stood, waiting for something.
Her brain still sleep fogged, Gwen finally understood.
“Right, you need clothes and food. Then some form of transportation back to your... district house. It doesn't look like it's light out yet, so let's see about finding the night nurse. Maybe she can help with some of this?”