Caught completely off-guard, Ryan looked around wildly before his brain kicked in. When Ethan shot him a frightened look he suddenly realized he couldn’t take Chris to a regular medical facility. There was no way they were prepared to deal with a man from 800 years in the past. He shook his head to get his mind to focus. “Edwards, Ryan, emergency summons acknowledged,” he shouted into his compcom. “Priority one emergency medical assistance required; my residence!” Again he shouted into his compcom.
“We have to get him to a hospital,” Ethan cried, his voice shaky.
He turned to the scared Ethan, pulling him into a hug, “Help is on the way. I have to get to TPC. They’ll bring him into the TPC infirmary. A regular hospital is not equipped to deal with a man from the past. They’ll take excellent care of him, I promise. Meet me there, baby.” With a quick kiss he was out the door before Ethan collapsed into the same convulsions that were wracking Chris’ body.
Ryan rushed into the travellator control room and practically pounced on Jake, the controller presently on duty. “What have you found?” He practically shouted.
“Approximately 10 minutes ago the alarm went off. Localization pinpoints it to an area around your apartment, this time period,” Jake replied, puzzled.
“That’s weird. I’ve never heard of a timeline alteration being caused by something in this time period. Get me a travellator reference,” he ordered.
Looking back at the monitor Jake’s mouth opened in shock, just as everyone else flew into the control room, “the timeline just skewed even further,” he exclaimed.
Liam contributed a “What the fuck?” to the conversation before throwing himself into a chair and typing commands into the computer.
“Ryan Edwards report to the infirmary stat…Ryan Edwards report to the infirmary stat.” Ryan was out the door racing toward the infirmary before the page even finished.
Ryan slammed through the infirmary doors, looking around wildly. “What’s going on? Why did you page me? Has Chris arrived yet? What’s wrong with him? What have you found? Is he okay?” He fired off the questions in rapid fire succession to anyone and everyone in the room.
The emergency medical personnel knocked on Ryan’s apartment door repeatedly with no response. Finally as a result, the crew leader shouted, “Apartment 4C. Emergency medical override. Barnes, T., Emergency Medical Technician Level 5. Open door!” There was a quiet click as the door opened. The crew rushed in and found Ethan on the floor convulsing.
As they checked him over and tried to stop his seizure, they heard noise from another room. Half of the crew went in search to locate the noise. “We’ve got another one in here, similar condition!” One of them yelled, rushing to Chris.
Two people, separate rooms, same symptoms. Barnes thought fast. “EMERGENCY BREATHERS NOW!” He roared, putting a strange-looking contraption over his mouth and nose. Not knowing for sure, but guessing that Chris was in the same condition as Ethan, he called for two medical stasis units. Ethan and Chris were both placed in the units and rushed to the TPC infirmary. In transit Barnes watched over the readouts for both men. Heart rate, blood pressure, respiration all normal for someone just coming down from convulsions, He noted. Looking over the physical parameter readouts, he did a double-take. Wait…this can’t be right. 827 years old? He turned to the other stasis unit. 830 years old? What the hell? “EMU 1 to TPC infirmary, EMU 1 to TPC infirmary,” he said into the air.
“Doctor Korotas on the line, status please.”
“Tech Leo Barnes, level 5. I have two male patients, both in status post-dictal. Patient one, height 1.9 meters, weight 91 kilograms, pulse 90, respiration 18, heart rate 100, blood pressure 189 over 102.” He paused.
“Age?” the doctor asked.
After a moment Barnes replied, “indeterminate.”
“What do you mean, indeterminate? What does the readout say?”
“It’s giving an erroneous readout.”
Uh-oh! I hope it’s not who I think it is! What does the age readout on both patients say, Barnes?” The doctor asked apprehensively.
“Patient one, 827; patient two, 830 years old.”
“Code 1 emergency transport status. Get them here now!” the doctor barked. Time for some hard truths.