~~~~~~
They made a few false turns before they found the psychiatric unit. An unattended nurses’ station guarded two wards. Locked double doors barred the way.
“I pressed the call button,” Wiggles said. “Can you see anyone in the corridor?”
Jack peered through the windows of the locked doors.
Green children stared at the ceiling with unblinking eyes from beds lining the halls. An orderly shuffled between the patients with eye drops. He waved, but the orderly turned away.
“The children look dead,” Jack said. “I saw an orderly, but he didn’t see me. Is there anyone in charge here?”
Walking around the nurses’ station, Jack checked the other doors. “More children, but I see a nurse coming our way.”
The nurse tapped a code into a keypad, and the doors swung open. She was as green as grass and wore a crisp white uniform. With a stern look, she sized up each of them. “May I help you gentlemen?”
“I’m Constable Wiggles,” he waved, “and these are my consultants. We’d like to see the patients from Beslan.”
“Only Doctor Norman can authorize you to see patients in the psychiatric ward.” The nurse answered in a tone sharp enough to cut a treble cleft. “Not that it would help.”
“This is police business.” Wiggles never missed a beat. “If you want authorization, get Doctor Norman on your intercom and get it now.”
Pursing her lips, the nurse strode to her station and tapped on her desk caster. The caster buzzed softly.
“Norman here, what’s going on up there? Has there been a change?”
“Sorry to bother you doctor,” said the nurse, “but I have a policeman, a man, an elf, and a dwarf at the nurses’ station. If we had a troll we could hold a renaissance faire. They want access to the psych ward to see the patients.”
“Has there been any change in their condition?”
“No ma’am, they’re in awful shape. They’re dehydrated, and I’ve run out of intravenous fluid pumps. I’ve got Scott working on finding me another thirty pumps.”
“Good work, Hatchet. Put the fat cop on the caster and let me speak to him.”
Nurse Hatchet glared at Wiggles, and waved, “She wants to speak to you, I believe.”
Going around the counter, Wiggles squeezed his bulk between the nurse and her desk, and sat down.
Norman was disheveled. She still wore her white coat.
“Doc, you need some rest,” said Wiggles. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“I’ve had four hours sleep since you brought the last victims in for autopsies. We’re trying to evacuate and my pathologist looks worse than I do. If you would get out there and do your job, I might get a few winks to prepare for the next disaster you haven’t prevented.”
“Doctor that’s a bit harsh,” Wiggles chided her. “I appreciate your position, but I am keenly aware of my responsibilities. As such, I insist on seeing the patients from Beslan. It should only take a few minutes. As you say, I must be on my way to prevent the next disaster. If need be, I will serve you with a warrant. I, too, am aware of the urgency, and I see no reason to delay while I wake up a justice of the peace.”
The doctor slumped and shook her head. “Very well Wiggles, but don’t get in the way of my staff. And don’t harm any of my patients,” she sighed. “Nurse Hatchet, are you there?”
“Here mum,” said Hatchet.
“Show the constable and his friends around, quickly. Don’t let him waste too much of your time. Thanks.”
“Yes mum.” The caster darkened. Hatchet glared at Wiggles.
“Follow me, gentlemen.” They dutifully let Hatchet lead them. “The scans show they are comatose,” she said. “I’ve got the aides working full time just caring for them. We even have to apply drops to their eyes because they won’t blink.”
Jack brought up the rear.
“Have you tried stimulants?” asked Wiggles.
“We’ve tried olfactory shock with salts, electroshock, optical strobes, trans-cranial magnetic fields, and a host of psychotropic medicines. We’ve used enough Afterlife to bring zombies back to life.”
Hatchet led them through a bay full of patients to a private room where a mole woman stared at the ceiling. “Principal Chapel is typical.” She pointed to the monitors. “The scanners indicate she’s in a coma. She’s catatonic.”
“Why are her eyes open?” Shotgun asked.
“No idea,” said Hatchet. “And we can’t close them, and don’t tell me that doesn’t fit the symptomology. We know that.” Hatchet checked Chapel’s pulse. “We shot Principal Chapel up with enough Afterlife to raise Caesar’s ghost. No response on the scanners. No brain function; nothing, absolutely nothing.” She let go of Chapel’s wrist. “Not even her heart fluttered. She reacted as if we had shot her up with water.”
“Nurse Hatchet,” Jack said. “Would you be willing to entertain a hare-brained idea?”
“A hare-brained idea? If it even sounds half-baked, I’ll hear you out. What have they got to lose? If it won’t kill them, I’ll try it.”
“What are you thinking, Jack?” asked Gumshoe.
“Remember when we stunned the dwarves who ambushed us? After we stunned Billy, he came to. Just minutes before he had tried to kill me with a lightning gun, and then he was back to normal. He thought he had a pass.”
“Possible,” said Wiggles, “but he could be faking. He’s in a lot of trouble. We haven’t had time to probe him and his buddies, and verify their story. If we can’t verify the truth of his statements, he’ll spend the rest of his days on the Moon watching re-runs.”
“Look at the Principal,” said Jack. “What is the risk? If stun works on these patients, it will save their lives. If not, how can it hurt?”
“What’s the difference between a stun and an electric shock treatment?” asked Hatchet.
“The shock treatments you administer affect only small portions of the brain,” said Gumshoe. “Modern electro-shock stimulators operate on a principle similar to medical neural stimulators. They target selected neurons, and stimulate those neurons to fire.” Parting his trench coat, Gumshoe flashed his lightning pistol, and patted the weapon. “Lightning weapons are completely different. They fire an electro-motive pulse. A weak pulse triggers all the neurons simultaneously causing momentary paralysis.”
All eyes turned to Gumshoe. Everyone expected him to go on.
“What?” Gumshoe asked. “I’m no expert on weaponry. Weapons are just a professional interest.” He glanced at Wiggles for support, “Basic stuff right?”
“Yeah,” said Wiggles. “Do you read Tech Blaster or Solar Security?”
“Oh, I like both, but Tech Blaster tests everything in live simulations.”
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Hatchet cleared her throat. “This isn’t a convention for gun nuts. I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but we need to know if it’s safe to stun a patient. If we don’t find a solution soon, my patients may suffer permanent side effects of this pseudo-catatonia, and they may even die.”
“Stun rarely harms healthy people,” said Gumshoe. “Stun victims are usually sick or under the influence of drugs. All of us with military training have been stunned.” He smiled. “Some would say that’s what’s wrong with us, but it doesn’t seem to have done me any harm.”
“It wasn’t fun,” said Jack, “but no one was harmed in our cycle.”
“We can’t be sure it’s safe on the patients,” said Gumshoe. “Occasionally we’ve lost suspects stunned in the course of a pursuit or during a fight. Usually they are under the heavy influence of narcotics, and they suffer a heart attack.”
“Let me call Doctor Norman again,” said Hatchet. “She won’t be happy, but we’re desperate.” She pulled out her caster.