Third post

The ride was uneventful, again, the pilot quiet and efficient.  Emmie stretched in her seat, checked her pockets for her  energy bars and hand wipes.   Within thirty minutes, the chopper landed on the roof of a medical complex that was very obviously on some form of military base.  Emmie had a working knowledge of military, but Darren’s warning glance told her that she had best be on her good behavior.  Not that she was ever permitted to indulge in inappropriate behavior, but she still felt warned.  He gave her those looks in places the strictly discourage any form of site seeing or lingering.
    Two armed MPs met them as Darren helped Emmie out of the helicopter, Darren’s hand cupping her head protectively until they were out from under the rotors.  With hand motions they ushered Emmie and her Watcher to a door set in the building’s roof.  As soon as the door closed the noise from the chopper cut off.  The taller of the men turned to Darren  and blocked him with an arm.
    “Our orders were to meet a representative from Project Stone Tower.  We are not here to give an extended tour to a VIP brat.” His frown and tone of voice gave away the tension in him.  What ever was going on had everybody worked up.  Once again, though, no one was expecting a twelve year old, no matter how advanced her skills or studies.  It was possible they were also not expecting a civilian.
    Darren pulled out a set of credentials with a grimace.  He hated wasting time.  He also hated pulling out paperwork.   The system never worked as well as he wanted it to.  Emmie guessed he was ex-military himself and disliked the gulf that now existed between himself and others in uniform.  The first M.P. leaned in to examine the small set of cards he produced.  Whatever was printed on those cards made the man purse his lips.
    “As you can see, we are here from the Tower.  This is the Nightengale you have been expecting and quite frankly need.”
    The man glanced up from the credentials.  He looked at Emmie.  She knew better than to smile.  She also didn’t feel like smiling.  There was a hum to the air in the corridor.  She could almost feel the pain, the chaos.  She knew they were very close to where ever the men in the photos were being treated.  Her palms started to tingle and she bounced lightly on her toes, eager to work.  Her scalp tingled as if a current of electricity ran through her.  She could almost hear a faint echo of voices.
    “Well, the paper work is in order-“ he didn’t get a chance to finish.
    “Great.  If you want to do more paperwork, we can mention it to your CO that you decided to stop and chat while there is a crisis to attend to.  Someone pretty high up had to call in a favor to get us out here and you just would rather question us in the hall?”  Darren gently propelled Emmie forward, though she was all but bouncing now to get on with it.  She barely heard Darren exchanging more comments and veiled insults with the two MPs.  Darren was like that with military.  Well, everyone really.  He seemed more of a bulldog than a Watcher.
    Pushing aside the buzz of their arguments she turned a corner into a medical disaster.  There were shouts and blazing lights, bright colors and high voices.  Personnel ran to carry out orders and to pass items to one another.  Emmie stopped abruptly and turned left, down a dim corridor.  She always seemed to know where they would set up her room.  She couldn’t work amidst the swirl of conflicting energies, over powering noises and the chaos of too many personalities.
    She stopped abruptly in front of a thick leaded door with a radiation symbol on it.  Darren reached over her shoulder and gave the door a hearty shove.  Emmie waited while he entered first.  She hadn’t barged enthusiastically into a room since she was nine.  Ever vigilant, he secured the room, made sure it met her needs and then  motioned her in.  The two MP exchanged raised eyebrows and remained in the hall.  Their doubt was palpable. 
    The room was sound buffered and the noise dropped considerably when Emmie walked in.  The walls were unadorned and the only lighting came from to small exam lights pointed straight up.  There was a man on a gurney in the center of the room, his form shrouded by a sheet, blood staining it.  A woman, doctor or nurse, stood by his head adjusting an IV that dripped into his hand.  His head turned to Emmie as she walked in.  The woman looked up with a frown.
    “I want to know under whose authority my patient was-“ She stopped abruptly when Darren put a hand up and spoke over her, gently but firmly.  Her eyes, bright with anger, opened wider.
    “If you are quiet you can stay.  You already signed the documents?” Darren flipped through his paperwork.
    “Of course, it’s standard for situations like this but why have you brought a child-“
    Once again Darren put a hand up.  Her eyes were indignant now, a cool blue fire that took in Emmie as well as Darren.  Darren put his other finger over his lips.
    Emmie moved next to the man and rolled back the sheet to expose his chest.  Wet looking burns criss crossed his dark skin.  His forehead was wrinkled in pain and there was dark bruising on the unburned skin.  The woman opened her mouth to object to Emmie’s lack of gloves, her audacity at approaching this man  but quickly backed down with a warning glance from Darren.
    “What’s your name?” Emmie asked as she place her small hands on the man’s shoulders, heedless of the mangled flesh and burns.
    “Dave,” he managed to gasp. He turned his head, watching this strange, calm girl.  His eyes slowly cleared and he was able to focus on her. 
    “Dave, I want you to relax as much as possible.  I’m trying to help you with the pain, but if you don’t trust me, the pain will return.” Emmie leaned over him, speaking directly to his face.  She was small, and had to stand on her tip toes to see him.  His eyes were a sharp bright brown and locked into hers.
    “I trust you.” He closed his eyes and Emmie felt him loosen his hold on the pain and settle into the gurney.  He almost seemed to sink into the sheets, heavier somehow.
    “Oh, good.  I could do this without your trust, but it takes longer and I have to fight all the much harder.  This way there is no fight but your own, and Dave, you are already half way there.  You must be tough or you wouldn’t have made it in time for me to get here.”  Emmie babbled on, murmuring compliments with encouragement.  As she spoke she felt her hands warm.  She felt the rush of energy from her core and moved her hands over his injuries.  Her mind cut out all of the world except the ragged and torn man in front of her and even that narrowed to each injury.  Her memory, well trained, flashed her all of her studies.  The techniques and procedures she had spent endless time concentrating on came flooding back to her, bypassing her conscience mind,  seeping straight into her hands that moved on their own.
    The woman observer gasped and stepped back.  She cast an expression of half horror, half wonder at Emmie.  The injuries were closing, The skin in areas smoothed out, pale, but cleanly healed.  The swelling slowly shrank down.  Dave’s forehead lost a set of wrinkles, and then another.  The sweat dried on his cheeks and wasn’t replaced.
    Emmie continued going over his wounds.  A deep unseen injury caught her attention.  Internal bleeding, she noted in one part of her head.  The liver, there, several lacerations in the organ, blood pooling in the abdominal cavity.  No wonder they didn’t want him pulled aside to a room to wait.  Her hands moved along his side, found the deep laceration that tunneled to his organs.
    Not even hearing the startled hiss of the woman, Emmie lightly plunged her hangs into his body.  Her fingers curled around the liver, massaging out the tears.  Emmie could feel the tissues knit back together, feel the organ resume it’s normal function.  In her mind’s eye she reflected on all of the medical texts and videos that she had studied.  Color, form, texture, all relevant to getting this man to health.  She slowly withdrew her hands, the various layers of his exposed viscera pulling together, healing, the flesh fragile, but growing stronger.
      Moving down  she checked over him, correcting injuries, burns and even a slightly inflamed cut on his foot that had no doubt happened days earlier.  But once started, Emmie was committed to the very end.  So long as there was life in him, and an injury, she would stay and fight.  At times, she wished she could stop, could give someone just enough, so she might keep going, moving on to another.  Yet, her talents didn’t permit it, she was compelled in way she couldn’t understand or control, to give the person at her finger tips every last bit of healing they needed.
    Finally Emmie stopped her quiet whispering, her hands resting on Dave’s feet.  He slept soundly, oblivious to anyone.  Emmie swayed slightly, coming out of her healing and into the real world.  Even the dim light seemed to harsh and her ears roared with sounds.  She staggered and felt Darren’s familiar grip guiding her to a chair.  She felt out of practice and realized that it had been at least six months since she had worked on any form of major trauma.  She mostly had been correcting small cancers and arterial blockages.
    Emmie sat, caught her breath and looked up.  The woman stared from Emmie to the patient and back again.  Her mouth opened and closed several times, stopping and starting various statements and questions.  Emmie pulled out her hand wipes and washed her hands.  She took the bottle of water that Darren offered and stood, drinking the water down in one gulp.
    “He’ll sleep for at least a day, maybe more with as bad as he was.  Expect him to be very hungry, but try not to let him over eat, at least at first. Next, please.”
    The woman looked at her again, her eyes bulging, “Yes, of course.” She said reverently, wheeling the gurney out and shouting orders to bring in the next in the queue.  Her gaze flitting back to Emmie.
    Darren grinned as he took back the empty water bottle.  “The pure science ones always have the hardest time excepting it.  But when you convince them, Emmie, you’ve got a friend for life!”
    “Ready for round two?” Emmie asked as she greeted the next man to be wheeled in.  Darren grinned and helped move the gurney into position.  The woman physician with the vivid blue eyes was obviously in awe still.  She moved aside without being asked and watched Emmie go to work.
    This man was not as badly injured so Emmie leaned over to look at his face.  She like to study faces.  Was his strong narrow nose from his father or his mother?  She understood genetics, as a purely scientific way to understanding  inherited conditions, but physical traits fascinated her.  Of course, anything she found fascinating and engaging was considered not needed.  Ms. Smith always found something drier for her to study.  She gently placed a hand lightly on his temple.  His pulse raced under her fingers, his pain and fear masked in his voice when he spoke.
    “Aren’t you a bit young to be a doctor?”  He glanced at her unmarked fatigues.  “A little young to be in the Corp, too.”
    Darren shifted forward, but Emmie spoke before he could.  “Old enough to know that you must be feeling miserable.  And unless I miss my guess, you have a case of sinusitis, too.”
    The young soldier’s eyes widened.  Did such a golden brown come from a hazel and brown genetic combination?  Emmie smiled softly to reassure him.  Did he see his father in his own features?
    “I’ve got some years behind me…..I’m older than I-“
Darren cleared his throat loudly to interrupt her.
    “Relax and let her work.” He said to the bewildered man and then  turned towards Emmie with a raised eyebrow that was all the reprimand she needed.  Apparently this was a chatter free day.
    “I’m sorry, sir” Emmie began to run her hands lightly down the sides of his face.  His expression became startled as he inhaled freely, his nose clear.  Emmie smiled as he winked at her and lay back, relaxed. 
    The young man’s injuries were mended and like the first, he was breathing deeply in sleep as he was wheeled back into the hall.  The two MPs that had escorted them exchanged glances as yet another injured man was wheeled in.  Their faces more curious and appraising than skeptical.
    Emmie did a quick scrub with her hand wipes and chugged down water again.  She was bouncy again.  The energy in the area began to lighten, she felt less closed in, less gloomy.  Quickly she stepped to the patient, her urge to chatter was gone as the full swing of her healing caught up to her.  She focused quickly, moving surely and cleared this patient in far less time.  The next two patients barely had time to question why a young girl was in the room before she had them healed and asleep.
    So into the rhythm of the process was she, she never noticed when Darren caught the Doctor at the door and asked for a five minute break.  She only sat in the chair provided when Darren gently steered her there and pushed her shoulders for her to sit.  Once sitting, she felt fatigue roll through her.  Her back burned and her arms felt like lead.  She had no concept of time. Even her patients faces had blurred, they had simply become a line of injuries awaiting her attention.
    She blinked several times, her mind having to adjust to the pace change.  Darren pulled out two protein bars and unwrapped them.  He only had to hold them out to her for her to grab them and eat them at a fast rate. Now that she had food, she realized that her body was screaming for calories.  She looked around and found her water bottle.  She leaned back into the chair and burped, and was busily unwrapping the next bar.  She started chewing into it before the wrapper was fully off.
    “So lady like,”he chided her. “All of the high priority are finished.  Can you handle the not so priority?”
    Emmie stretched and twisted her back, the popping sound making Darren wince.  She shook out her arms and felt her muscles loosen.
    “I’m good.  I’ve got at least another critical in me, plus a few extra.”  She bounded to her feet,  her energy restored. 
    “Okay, you’re the boss”  Emmie snorted in response as Darren opened the door and motioned in the hallway for another patient.  The  blue eyed woman smiled broadly at Emmie this time.  Her faith in Emmie’s abilities was evident and as she entrusted her patients fully to Emmie, she no longer remained in the room to monitor them.
    This particular patient had obviously been given medication for the pain.  The man waved at Emmie and began a rambling conversation to Darren.  For his part Darren smiled and nodded in all of the right places before finally, growing weary of the man’s wayward chatter, tipped his head at Emmie as he caught her eye.  Emmie leaned over and gently touched the man’s forehead with the tip of one finger.  His eye lids slid shut and his mouth hung slack.
    “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.”  Healing always put Emmie in a good mood.  She finished with the chatty man and waited for the next to come through.
    The next several hours passed smoothly.  The patient’s wounds were less severe and Emmie wasn’t required to leave them in a slumber. Under Darren’s direction,  the doctor had her patients forewarned not to speak to the slender young girl with the intent grey eyes.  Which was good, as her energy was waning and the breaks to eat protein bars wasn’t picking her up anymore.
    Wearily she looked at Darren as one young black man thanked her profusely as he was wheeled away.  He kept testing the motion of his previously broken arm, amazed at it’s healing.   “God bless you, little lady, God bless you all your days.”  The MP’s exchanged more glances with each other and shut the door.  Emmie sank to a chair and took out her hand wipes again.  She had gone through two packs and opened the third with slow hands.
    “I’ll tell the pilot know we’re about done.” Darren patted her head and moved towards the door. Emmie leaned back into the chair, her head tipped to rest on the chair’s back.  With her eyes closed the world stopped it’s slight spinning.  Fatigue, partial dehydration, sensory overload, she unconsciously began to cataloged her own well being.
    “She’s not finished yet.”
The new voice was commanding and drew Emmie slowly to her feet.  Darren looked over at the man in the doorway and saluted smartly.  The man returned the salute, but never took his eyes off of Emmie.  His grey hair was cut short in a military style, his fatigues sported various bars and stars but Emmie was too tired to try and figure then out.  Military insignia was much harder to figure out than genetically linked cancers.
    “We need all minor burns erased.  We don’t want any long term injuries or exposures showing up.”
    “Sir, with all due respect, the Nightingale is-“
    “With all due respect, Sir, you are not responsible for what happened here and the powers that be are demanding this.  You don’t have a choice.”  The man nodded once at Emmie, glared at Darren and opened the door.  He motioned with one hand and stayed inside as another patient was wheeled in.  He crossed his arms and waited.
    “Obey the brass, but when you reach your limit, tell me ‘respite’.  Emmie?”  Darren leaned over her, shielding his words from the grey haired man.
    Emmie nodded and shook out her shoulders.  Throwing her braid to her back she flexed her hands and approached the newest patient.  He was an impish looking young man, his arm well wrapped and in a sling.  He obviously had questions and just as obviously wasn’t about to speak up in front of a superior.
    Emmie felt somewhat inhibited with the high ranking man in the room.  She went forward to the man with a wan smile and moved aside the white gauze on his wounds.  Again the energy surged up through her and she smoothed out the damaged skin, the seeping wound and the minor fracture.  The lingering warmth in her spine refreshed her a bit.
    The now healed man looked startled and opened his mouth to speak, but Darren motioned to have him moved quickly.  There was now a line in the hallway of walking wounded, the soldiers moving under their own power, talking quietly while waiting.  Their conversations , while whispered, cut off as they saw the stern look on Darren’s face.
    The line moved quickly now, without having to wait for gurneys to be wheeled in and out.  Emmie ignored the looks, the sometimes frank stares and the exclamations though periodically, the young men called on God to bless her.  She filed away the perplexing comments for the future, her healing mattered now.  She was in her own mind, seeking what was broken, burned or torn.  She didn’t hear Darren tersely ordering the men.  She didn’t notice the grey haired man circling the room, pacing and watching her closely.  Her only thought was the healing.  All of her years of study running through her mind.  She stopped drinking her water, her protein bars still sat on the chair against the wall.  The urge to heal had gripped her.
    How much longer it was, Emmie was not sure.  She felt the walls spinning around her.  Sounds had a strange muffled and echoed quality.  She felt her hands slip from one patients forehead.  He was finished, she was aware of that much.  The minor burns on his forehead had been smoothed out.
    She suddenly was flooded with awareness, not of her physical surroundings, but of the people around her.  Darren’s anxiety was thick, almost smothering, the doctor gave off waves of awe mixed with envy and surprisingly the grey haired man had pride and concern.  She spun suddenly to face the men.  Her vision was blurred around the edges.
    “Respite,” she murmured and slid bonelessly to the floor.  The grey haired man was closest and managed to catch her before her head hit the floor.  Darren was quick to move in and lay her carefully on the floor.  His face had blanched of all color. 
    “Emmie?” his call was urgent.  He patted her face and put his fingers to her throat to catch her pulse.  The woman was also on her knees, her hands checking for a pulse in the wrist, her face terrified, as if she saw a rare creature in peril.
    “Is she alright?”  The grey haired man asked, a frown bending his face.
    “No! She’s not all right.  She’s never pushed so far before.  But she’s been trained, molded to keep going!  It‘s possible she could push her self straight to death.”
    “I’ve got a pulse.  I’d like to run some tests.” The doctor looked up not towards Darren, but to the high ranking officer. 
    “No, she needs to get back to the Tower.  Our medical staff there will know how to treat her. “ Darren stood and hoisted her gently into his arms, his expression grim.
    “Your chopper has been notified and you can lift off immediately.”  The man nodded his head at Emmie. “Please know, this wasn’t my idea.  I’ve  read the file on Project Stone Tower.  The Nightingale is incredible.  You both have my fullest respect.”
    “Thank you, sir.  But we need to leave.”
    “Of course.” The man held the door open for Darren and continued to walk with him to the roof door.  Darren carried Emmie easily, her weight no strain to him.
    As they came to the door, the rhythmic thud of the chopper was heard even with the door closed, the high ranking man put a stalling hand on Darren’s shoulder.  Darren stopped, but his frustration was evident.
    “Just let me say, while I am grateful for the Stone Tower, I don’t approve of it.” He glanced at Emmie, “I have granddaughters her age.  When she wakes, tell her the she is in my debt.  Several of my people wouldn’t have made it without her.  Tell her if she ever has a need, General Rudy Westin will answer her call.”
    Darren nodded again, but didn’t speak.  He just pushed open the door with his shoulder and ran Emmie to the chopper.  The general watched from the door until the aircraft was just a speck on the horizon.