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Stories They are Smol

The are Smol Doctors at Large – Chapter 9: Field Trips are better with Mrs. Frizzle.

‘This is bad.’ Juan thought, warm air coming in humid and salty through his sweat-soaked bandanna mask.

The sun crested to it’s zenith in the sky, beating down warm, life-giving light and energy to the farmland below. It hit harder for those who worked out in the fields, and it hit particularly hard for the few humans who still worked the land, most of which were blood relatives to Juan Esteban – which meant, come hell or high water, they would stay on the property for as long as possible, personal safety be damned. The alien – well, that term didn’t work on a planet where none of the residents had evolved – the non-human farmhand labor had doubled in headcount over the past week alone as more and more of Juan’s human employees and friends had to bow out due to the air quality.

To Persimmon’s credit, Juan did get some grants to float him through the hard times, and he did notice a few more “safety calls” from the local fire brigade and PDF, but outside of the sheriff stopping by more frequently nothing was being done. His farm was safe, and the illegal brushfires had dropped down the price of the surrounding land which he and his family snapped up – if anything, at least as a buffer – but the fires continued.

And that was the problem.

When the fires were closer, the smoke tinted the sky and you could just look up and know that you needed to put on a mask. The days of constantly cleaning the barns and the HVAC vents were over, as the heaviest soot now fell in either untamed wilderness or already-burnt land. The problem now was, as far as Juan could tell, that the finer particulate was still making it’s way overhead. The super-fine stuff, the stuff that was smaller than dust, that nothing stopped, that got everywhere, and that bothered everyone–

Juan shifted the tractor into park as he felt another coughing fit start. He inhaled deeply, trying to trigger it just to get it over with.

No luck.

Leaning back against the seat, he looked out on his field, his freshly-dug fencepost holes marking his progress for the day: Barely an acre. This whole thing wouldn’t be so bad if it just didn’t train the life out of you – any other type of sickness would be ok—

There was a rough spasm, and Juan lurched forward, gripping the wheel tightly as he started to violently and wetly cough, his body shaking with the effort of expelling something foreign from his chest. It never happened – mucus came out, sure, but it was never black, or red, or anything concerning. Just the pain, the wet cough, the shortness of breath… then it went away. After a few moments his breathing normalized, and he stayed hunched over to catch his breath.

It was bad. He’d sent Michelle and baby Isabella – the second, not the first – off of the farm as soon as the cough spread, but from what he’d been seeing with their video sessions in Silver City, it wasn’t getting better. Everyone was chalking it up to “seasonal allergies”, but Gentle Expanse doesn’t have seasons like Earth did; even so, what would be the odds that every human being on-planet reacted the same way? Most people brushed it off, and a cough here or there is no big deal, they say…

Juan lightly hit the wheel with his palm, leaning back slightly. It was the fires, it had to be – this coughing was stirred up the soot, or something, and the government knew it!

Smog. They’re treating it like smog or coal fires, as if this was old India or old China! But, hell, if wood fire smoke is bad for you, then what would this, burning this… fungal brush do to a body? Planetary government so far hasn’t figured it a big deal as no other species are complaining, and the human district provisional government hasn’t had any “severe” cases for this to be a big issue. Air quality index is green on most days, they say. No need to worry, they say.

Juan opened his door and spat out a mouthful, reaching for his bottle of water. Giving his mouth a swish, he spat that out too.

‘This is bad.’ Juan thought, as he popped the clutch and sent his tractor into 1st gear. ‘And it’s going to get worse.’

‘This is bad.’ Ngruzren-of-Arzgr murmured as he looked at the final few questions of the test, the tiny-chomper proctors wandering the auditorium aisles as they looked for cheating. It had been a week or so since class started; the days were blurring together with the excitement of having something to do again, each class new and interesting. However, Ngruzren was facing his most difficult challenge and what he was assured would be his first real inflection point: The multiple choice test.

“{If…, ok. If a tiny-chomper infant has been bad and the tiny-chomper infant still has a soft and pliable skull, is it an acceptable punishment to put them on the pottery wheel? That’s B, No.}”

Ngruzren-of-Arzgr idly picked at a loosening tooth with his tongue as he thought over the obvious question. Was it too obvious? It made sense, but, sometimes that’s a false moon, so… hmm. It didn’t help that Doctor Tiny-chomper-wiggle-hands expressly stated that about 35% of people will fail this test and be ejected from the course – of course, that too could be a false moon.

“{A tiny-chomper patient has been admitted after a round of antibiotics to combat a dirt disease, and are presenting symptoms of orange sweat, urine, and eye coloration. What is this a symptom of? That’s… that has to be C, The Blood Rage.}”

Quickly looking at the timer indicator, Ngruzren relaxed slightly. He’d finished a few minutes ahead of schedule, and took the time to review his answers.

He needed to be in that 65%. It’s not that he didn’t love his pups, or his extended family for stopping in, or the playdates or his house or his wonderful wife… it’s just that now Ngruzren had a purpose again, and… and…

Ngruzren sighed as he felt the focus leave him, gave a mental shrug, and tapped “submit” on his terminal. With a cheery little ding his test was turned in, and he let his mind wander as he looked over the remainder of the class. What were … he’d have to say about 200 people to start had dwindled down to roughly 50 or so, and it had been just a few short days. The tests, the homework, the stress was getting more and more intense, and it was starting to show. Why was it that he wanted this so badly? Was he unfulfilled? Was it selfish of him to think so? Did he settle down too soon? If so, maybe he could do like uncle Arrzgren did and take a couple-century break between litters? It would depend on what Zngrer would like, sure… she’s young and in the PDF, and young girls in uniform only want one thing and it’s absolutely fucking-

Ding

“[And time’s up! Screens are locked, no more inputs allowed.]” Doctor Tiny-chomper-wiggle-hands said, his voice echoing oddly loud in the silent auditorium. With a few grunts and groans there were a chorus of pings from the other terminals around Ngruzren as tests were force-submitted, the other people in the room reacting to the test’s end with varying degrees of concern.

Almost too much concern. The test was easy…

Wait was Question a Mambo? Or a Mamba?! THE TEST WASN’T EASY HE WAS JUST DUMB-

“[Ngruzren?]” Tiny-chomper-lookit-him-jump said, the Dorarizin turning to face the human nurse. “[You doing alright?]”

“{Yeah, I just… sorry. That test was rough.}” Ngruzren admitted, smiling without showing teeth in the tiny-chomper way. “{I wasn’t expecting you to go easy on us, but at the same time-!}”

Tiny-chomper-lookit-him-jump laughed, reaching up to pat Ngruzren on the forearm. “[I know, I know, but remember what I told you? It’s to get under your skin, to get in your head.]”

“{Fair enough.}”

“[Oh wow, the test must have been really hard, then – you don’t seem so playful any more. What’s wrong?]”

“{Nothing – I mean, nothing that I should share with you, in class. I’m just trying to figure out why I want to be here, what’s really driving me.}” Ngruzren admitted, leaning back in his chair as the tiny-chomper nurse hopped up to sit on the table. “{I’ve got everything I could want, so why push myself? And these are my first pups, so why spend the time away from them?}”

“[I’m going to be honest with you, Ngruzren, it’s a very good sign you’re asking those questions.]” Tiny-chomper-lookit-him-jump said, tapping Ngruzren’s desk with his knuckles. “[And no, that’s not part of the test too, we’re not that diabolical – I know you were going to ask!]”

“{I mean, you are devious with these things!}” Ngruzren grinned, ears perked forward. The two spent some time looking at each other… until it got a bit awkward.

“{So, uh, not that I don’t enjoy the small-talk, or your company, but-}”

“[Why am I here and what are we doing? Well, you’re coming with me on a round.]”

“{A round – wait, like an actual-}”

“[Yep!]” Tiny-chomper-lookit-him-jump said, hopping down from Ngruzren’s desk. “[We’re going to be doing some rounds with a few classmates each to give you a feel of what it’s like actually working under pressure. You won’t have to – actually, let’s just, hold on.]” Tiny-chomper-lookit-him-jump pulled out a small tablet from his pocket and pinching both corners pulled it apart to give him a larger surface area. The screen lit up, and after a little bit of playing on it Ngruzren’s desk pinged, along with about a dozen other people.

“[If you have a Red Circle, you’re with me!]” Tiny-chomper-lookit-him-jump said, holding up his tablet high over his head that now had… a single red circle covering the screen. “[Come on over and I’ll tell you what’s going on!]”

“{Want to give me a bit of a hint?}”

“[Two words:]” Tiny-chomper-lookit-him-jump said, grinning in a manner that Ngruzren decided he did not like, “[Field Trip.]”

The idea was pretty simple, as Than mo explained it: Everyone was going to be doing a round as an observer, following a team of nurses as they made their rounds. This was to accomplish a few things: First, to show people what to expect in the day of the life, and Second, to show the hopefuls what their jobs would entail when they’re not helping humans.

What, you thought it was going to be no items, humans only, final destination? Please. Only scrubs played that way.

And so, the group of volunteers followed Than mo and the other licensed nurses as they made the rounds. One thing became abundantly clear very early on, which really any nurse or doctor would have told you if you just listened to them but you don’t, do you, you still have to lose that weight and stop referring to eating a tub of cheetos as “the accident”, but anyway. Point was?

There was a lot of paperwork.

Sure, modern medicine had done away with a lot of the problems of yesteryear; there were therapies that regrew limbs or provided the attachments of prosthetics, you could destroy internal pathogens by literally injecting people with nanomachines (though there were problems with this as well), mental disabilities were either genetically destroyed or, through repeated therapy, cured, and some surgeries that would’ve been invasive a hundred years ago were outpatient procedures practiced today. But the one constant remained the same:

Paperwork. Who did what? Who administered what? Under whose authority? When? What’s the dosage, what’s the time, what symptoms were present, was the full dose taken? Did the patient comply with physical therapy? What is the patient history? What other medication were they on? What branch of wetware is installed? Has it been rebooted? Is the medication prescribed compatible with internal cybernetics? And on and on and on…

Than mo was only half-watching the Jornissian attendant on duty work his bedside manner as he adjusted the ambient heat on one of the patient beds. He’d been through all of this and more when he was first assigned xenos duty; not only did he need to get used to working with these other species but he might also have to work on them. Granted, when it was just him there were a lot more attending nurses and doctors around, but an ounce of caution is worth a pound of cure. No, Than mo was watching everyone else; who was bored, or interested? More importantly, who wished this would end? The easy pickings were long gone, and now came the hard part of every class – finding the ones who would otherwise be great from book knowledge, but had no knack for the human side of things.

Than mo hung out at the back of the group while the newbies got an impromptu lecture on how the beds worked. Some took notes, some politely listened, some “politely listened”. It seemed like it was going to-

“[CODE GRAY. ETA 3 MINUTES.]”

“AYYY HERE WE GO!” Than mo clapped his hands, getting the attention of everyone in the room – including some of the patients, who did their best to eavesdrop without looking like it. “EVERYONE TO TRAUMA!”

“[Wait, what?!]” One of the Dorarizin females said, looking around at the group. “[We’re just observing-]”

“YEP.” Than mo said, already turning a heel to jog down the hall. “OBSERVE EVERYTHING, INCLUDING TRAUMA!” Than mo called out behind him, and soon was joined by the hesitant half-power walking footfalls of his charges.

“[A-are you sure this is safe? We’re not scrubbed up or anything!]” One of the Karnakian students said, pacing the smaller human as they rounded a corner.

“Of course! We’re just observing, not doing surgery! Besides-”

The triple-doors slid open on silent hinges, the trauma ward already a bustle of activity as a few other groups of volunteers had been shepherded in, Than mo’s colleagues already donning PPE in the ‘welcome’ center of the ward. Doctors and nurses were setting up a side room, and some of the office staff were doing… paperwork. As if on cue a bright white light went off above an exit door, and from what was apparently a ground-level transport drop-off came wheeled in a thrashing Jornissian. The trauma table the patient was lashed to creaked under the strain, and as the patient slammed his head back against the table with an audible thwak he screamed a wordless, rumbling howl of rage.

“-what’s the worst that could happen?!”

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Stories They are Smol

They are Smol Doctors at Large – Chapter 8: Do not use body heat to start cults.

Roughly 10 seconds.

It took roughly 10 seconds for a karnakian chick to eventually float back down to earth after a round of “upsies”. Using his lightning-fast mind, Than mo did the math as to how much each chick must weigh, how large they are, their relative superposition to the galactic center and the air-speed velocity of an unladen chick and came up with a profound conclusion: He had no idea how any of this worked.

“I’m… forgive my ignorance, but, how.” Than mo said, gently tapping at the thick glass as another duo of chicks did upsies, then attack-glided into another already-airborne pair. This apparently started a trend, and like cheerleader pompoms duos of chicks yeeted themselves into the air to get the high ground, daring the chicks below them to give up. They did not, of course, and eventually everything devolved into a ground “fight” until new truces were made and the process repeated itself.

“[What? I already explained it – it’s just a baby game-]”

“No, I mean. I think… if my minor in mathematical fightanomics is worth anything, I would think that your babies are a little too… large? Or dense – physically – to fall with style like that. Unless their bones are totally hollow, which, ok, that raises a bunch of other questions.”

“[What? No. Normal bones, they just do this.]” T’ciki’briiki said, expanding a little bit.

Than mo watched her with considerable confusion. “I’m sorry… do what?”

“[This.]” T’ciki’briiki said again, expanding a little slower than before. “[You just – sorry, I guess you wouldn’t know, but, you just poof out a little bit. Get that surface area up.]” T’ciki’briiki squatted slightly in the hallway, her uniform now stretching lightly against her expanding feathers. “[See? Chicks only have down, which is basically full-expanded feathers all the time; it helps with keeping them warm and general thermo-regulation. Larger surface area takes advantage of the Coriolis Effect, and vestigial gravitational lensing anemometers direct electrostatical ionized air under each individual feather, e.g. a wing, much like the native borb, except we don’t use helium as a- oh!]” T’ciki’briiki skinnied up and reached forward as Than mo suddenly clutched his head, leaning against the one-way transparent wall.

“Oooooh why does that suddenly really hurt?” Than mo groaned, screwing his eyes shut. “It feels like millions of scientists suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced.”

T’ciki’briiki nodded sagely, helping her smaller coworker back to his feet. “[I know, it’s difficult living in a universe with hard scientific facts at first, but it gets easier.]”

“That’s not.. That’s not how-”

“[Aaaanyway. Did you want to go in?]” T’ciki’briiki smiled as only a saurian could, tilting her head towards the nursery. A few chicks gently hit the window with a pamf, the electrostatic charge of their feathers causing them to stick, slightly, to the wall… and slowly roll down it. “[It seems like they’re calming down, so it’s safer to go in. Mostly-]” pamf “[-probably. Actually, shall we just continue our tour?]”

“I think… yeah. Yeah.” Than mo said, taking one last look at the group of chicks playing frantic games unknown to him. “Probably for the best.”  

The Jornissian section, for lack of a better term, was warm. Comfortably so; the prevailing misconception was that Jornissians were 100% cold-blooded and therefore needed to be at a Sahara desert level of heat or else they’d freeze to death. They did bleed heat, certainly, but it took days and days for that to happen in extreme cases. Nevertheless, more than one new human recruit had found him or herself spending hours looking for “emergency heating stones” for a “freezing” Jornissian, convinced they were right next to the headlight fluid and the elbow grease.

N-not that Than mo would know, of course. He was smarter than that, which is why he kept his head on a swivel as T’ciki’briiki escorted him through the third section of the nursery. The gray, rocky walls gave way to a brigher, more vibrant hue of green and reddish-brown, and the temperature started to slowly climb the further they ventured. A ten degree difference wasn’t anything to complain about; moving from 70F to 80F was, again, warm but not an issue. The problem really was the evenness of the heat – there was no escaping it. It was 80 in the halls, in the vending machine nook, in the bathroom – everywhere. This wasn’t so bad, but when you have to half-jog to keep up with your partner and the humidity also started to slowly crank up…

By the time the duo had checked in with the front desk, Than mo had a light sheen of sweat all over his body, much to the chagrin of the Jornissian working the nursery for that shift.

“[You going to be alright?]” The Jornissian – a male by the voice – said, lowering himself to get on eye-level with the human. “[I don’t know about… how your species expel water, but if you’re going to dehydrate-]”

“Nah, nah. This is just like back home, to be honest; the moisture on my body is a mixture of water and salt – evaporative cooling.” Than mo said, smiling. “It’s fine. Didn’t think I’d be back in Neo-Vientiane, but, here we are.”

The Jornissian looked up at T’ciki’briiki, who just shrugged. “[Well, alright. You’re just leaving a lot of imprint… everywhere.]”

“I’m doing what now?”

The Jornissian daycare worker motioned to the one-way glass. “[Get a little more heated – maybe run around a bit, I don’t know – and then press your hands against that. I think you’ll get what I mean then.]”

“Ooo, cryptic.” Than mo chuckled, doing a few jumping jacks as his coworkers looked on. A few moments later – once he felt his heart rate rise again, he walked up to the one-way mirror. Much like the other enclosures, it showed the specialized nursery of the particular species; Whereas the Dorarizin’s enclosure looked like soft loam and underbrush, and the Karnakians had marshy reeds and rocks, the Jornissian enclosure was… bumpy. Small convex little domes dotted the landscape, the space between them filled with what looked like some sort of faux-sand analogue, if each sand particle was the size of a baseball. The nursery was unique to the Jornissian biology, but what was interesting was the lack of said biology; there was no movement Than mo could see – it looked abandoned. He pressed his hands against the glass, the relatively cool window warming under his touch, bleeding some of the heat from his palms. Almost instantly, right below the glass, the mound moved.

A single snout poked up out from the dome, splitting the tear-able fabric. This snout was joined by another, and another, and soon about 10 little heads poked out of the single gap, bodies flailing about as infant muscles tired and gave out. A few of the snakelets fell on their back, baby-hoods flared out in confusion, arms flailing weakly at the sky. As Than mo kept himself pressed against the glass, a few other mounds started to move, more inquisitive heads poking out of fabric holes.

“No way.”

“[I don’t understand why this is so surprising to you – your species bleeds heat.]” The Jornissian caretaker said, minding his terminal but keeping his attention on his guests. “[So, like I said – you’re leaving imprints everywhere. Our hatchlings tend to migrate to warmer heat sources, as they’re not big enough to really keep their own heat to themselves: It’s also why our nurseries are warmer than the rest of the building.]”

The hatchlings in question were starting to quest for this new source of warms, some of them crawling incorrectly towards other, larger snakelets. The larger Jornissians, of course, attempted to fight off these new intruders by falling towards them aggressively, which was (1) completely ineffective and (2) only led to them getting tangled up in what Than mo was now going to call a Fighter Hydra’nt and no one would tell him otherwise. Slowly, though, more of the room “woke up” and started to migrate towards Than mo’s general direction.

“They’re… heeding my call.”

“[No, they’re trying to leech off of your heat.]” T’ciki’briiki said, flatly, as one of the more adventurous snakelets threw itself at the invisible heat source. With a gentle plap it landed against the wall, starting to do a happy little shimmy as it found the source of the warms, mouth open in a soundless cry of joy.

“I mean… that counts. That should count.” Than mo said, the plap of a few more devoted fans punctuating his statement.

“[I have taken the general training, you know.]” T’ciki’briiki said, rearing back up to gain height – and therefore, authority. “[Humans are not allowed to start cults among coworkers since the [Caterpillar] incident.]”

“That is propaganda.” Plap “And I ask you, seriously, do you think I would be so cruel to do that to a bunch of dolphins?” plap

“[Alright I think that’s enough.]” The Jornissian behind the counter said, tapping the welcome desk. “[As much as I enjoy the company, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the window now.]”

“What, wh-ohfuck.” Than mo cried, stepping away from the now dozen-strong Hydra’nt shimmying against the glass. As Than mo stepped away the hydra’nt slowed down it’s excited wiggles, and a few moments later seemed to altogether lose interest, slowly falling back in on itself. “It learns and adapts-”

“[Aaaaaand I think that’s the cue we need to move him out. Thank you for your time, Brighteyes.]” T’ciki’briiki said to the Jornissian, who looked at the human with growing concern.

“[Seriously, if you’re dehydrating to the point of hallucination then-]”

“They improvise. Adapt. Overcome-”

“[No, no. They’re just… like this, I think.]” T’ciki’briiki reassuringly said, leaning forward to gently usher the human away from the glass. “[But some fresh air might do some wonders.]”

The sun was setting over Silver City as Than mo and T’ciki’briiki sat on the balcony, a light haze tinting the sky slightly orange.

“Thanks for that – I guess I’m just not used to the heat like I was.” Than mo said, finishing his third bottle of water.

“[I share some blame as well; I didn’t exactly slow down my gait for the last couple miles, so I may have un-necessarily exhausted you at the end.]” T’ciki’briiki confessed, idly reaching up to preen her head crest. “[You just seemed so excited to see everything, and I didn’t want to be gone too long from my station-]”

“If you have to go-”

“[Oh, no.]” T’ciki’briiki shook her head in the human gesture. “[Once we had to take a break I phoned central. As long as I’m monitoring you, I’m free from my shift.]”

“So that’s why we’re taking the long way back, eh? Slacker!” Than mo teased, tossing his empty bottle at his larger companion. It bounced off of T’ciki’briiki as she gave an exaggerated shrug. “[As you say, a little of column A, a little of column B.]”

“Ah. So, how much longer am I ‘under monitoring’, hmm?”

“[I’m thinking… maybe another 40 minutes? Coincidentally, then your shift should end too, correct?]”

Than mo laughed. “Why, how fortunate! To think that happened totally by chance – what are the odds?” He grinned, reaching into his bag of vending machine goodies. “So what, we just kill time as the sun sets?”

“[Unless you want to walk around some more?]” T’ciki’briiki suggested, leaning back on the bench to stretch her legs. “[Or, do you have some questions I can answer for you? I’ve been working here for about 200 years, so I kind of know the ins and outs of the place.]”

Than mo sighed, shaking his head. “A career that spans longer than most lifetimes-”

“[Oh! Eer, I’m sorry, I didn’t-]”

He raised his hand, waving away the awkwardness. “No, it’s alright, it’s just something that still blows me away, yanno? The person who processed my paperwork, a Karnakian as well I think, was celebrating his 700th work anniversary. 700 years ago… we were discovering the rest of our planet. He was an intern filing TPS reports on a station orbiting a binary star system.”

The conversation died down as Than mo stared into the sunset, watching the city below him breathe and move; automated delivery drones weaving in and out of personal transport traffic, both on the surface and weaving between buildings in the sky. Far above, trans-continental ships zipped silently and effortlessly through the cloudless sky, seeming to race the sun over the horizon.

“So I did have a question, if you don’t mind?”

“[Oh? Yes, ask away.]” T’ciki’briiki said, turning to look at her smaller charge. “[I am an open testament.]”

“Well. I’m impressed with the architecture of the complex; it’s nice that everyone kind of has ‘their own place’, so to speak – but my main question, really… I noticed as we were making our way between sections that we passed some pretty heavy doors. Like. Blast doors. What’s up with that?”

“[Really – of all the things you noticed, it’s the emergency-]” T’ciki’briiki sputtered for a moment, before composing herself. “[I honestly did not expect that to be the first thing we talked about, but, sure. Yes, those were station-regulated blast doors, atmospherically sealed. Once engaged, they close within about 30 seconds and need a coordinated effort on both sides of the door to reopen.]”

“Yeah. See, I’ve seen that in the ships that took me here and in some of the Zephyr stations I was on for processing, but, this is a hospital. What’s the deal?”

T’ciki’briiki frowned, slightly. “[Not all people are mentally … balanced, Than mo. A nasty divorce, a maddened-with-grief parent…]”

“Ah.” Than mo said, nodding. “I see. So one or two of those incidents-”

“[Yes. It’s easier to just install it in every new hospital and move on. If something were to happen; an insane patient, a terrorist attack, whatever – the lockdown sequence is automatically engaged, the nurseries are hermetically sealed and you just sort of sit and wait it out.]”

“You sound like you know this from personal experience.”

T’ciki’briiki did her species’ equivalent of quirking an eyebrow. “[You’ll get used to it too – we do an overnight drill once a year or so.]”

“So you do a lockdown with kids for a full night? Well that’s got to be a pain.”

“[For us?]”

“For the parents! Basically locking their kids away-” Than mo started to protest, but was soon drowned out by T’ciki’briiki’s laughter. “What? What’s so funny?”

“[Are you kidding? Lockdown night is our most in-demand night!]” T’ciki’briiki grinned, looking at Than mo. “[It’s scheduled months in advance! There’s even a waiting list!]”

“What? Why?!”

T’ciki’briiki raised a claw, counting off. “[Free babysitting, Overnight, Planned months in advance, Doesn’t cut into your normal shift hours or care quota – so in effect you can offload your kids for two full days -]”

“Oh. Oh damn.”

“[Yep.]” T’ciki’briiki said, puffing herself out slightly. “[Like I said, you’ll experience a drill and know what I mean. But between you, me and the wall…]”

T’ciki’briiki exaggeratedly looked to her right, left, above and below her, before leaning in with a conspiratorial grin. “[Make sure not to hide too much, ah, enjoyable substances for the drill, and especially make sure not to hide them underneath the orange pots in the staff break rooms, which are all hollow because they are usually moved around for large visiting groups.]”

Than mo thought for a moment, then gave T’ciki’briiki the side eye. “I’ll… keep that in mind, and definitely not share that with the rest of my group.”

“[Excellent! And if something were to happen, saline bags are always in the white cabinets.]”

Than mo straightened up in surprise, looking away before doing a double-take. “I’m sorry, exactly how hard do you people party off-hours?”

“[Welllllll…]” T’ciki’briiki said, before beginning the real story time, which lasted far longer than the 40 minute window the duo had planned for.

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They are Smol Doctors at Large – Chapter 7

All the potat knew was safety, warmth, and the steady breathing of her sisters, not-sisters and not-brothers. Potat thought she was on her back, but there were so many new denmates that she was kind of pressed up against Dad and a few dozen other bodies; inner-ear orientation tended to not make sense when you couldn’t tell which way was up and you were drifting in and out of sleep.

And yes, Dad was here, which meant things were ok again. They were ok before cause big was big and there were a lot of bigs, but, now things were more ok. Dad was breathing softly and rumbling and potat could feel that through her body and it was comfort and it was safe and it was warm, and a little misfire of her nerves caused her leg to kick. And that was ok too. Cause Dad.

Potat felt the need to express herself and her comfort, and let out a little mouthsound. A few moments later Dad pressed his lips to potat’s chest, there was more rumbling and potat knew darkness again, because she was safe and because she was warm and because she was tired.

Then there was a shift. Potat did not know how long it was; she barely understood the concept of time as-is, but there was a shift, a ripple in the den, and at once everyone was awake.

“[So we want to come in quietly, as you can see-]” T’ciki’briiki murmured, trilling softly as the door to the Dorarizin nursery slid open on silent tracks. The Karnakian nurse leaned forward to check around the entryway for any ambushes before stepping in, surprisingly making little noise given her larger form. Than mo followed shortly behind, minding his own footwork as he walked in. “[-ah, good. Hopefully we won’t make too much of a fuss.]”

“Huh.”

“[Hmm?]”

“Nothing, it’s just…” Than mo inhaled deeply through his nose, letting his breath out in a slow exhale. “Like… a nursery. Delivery wards are always so hectic, but nurseries are the payoff. They all have a smell, like, the smell of infancy – you know what I mean? Baby-smell? Or is that just a Human thing?”

T’ciki’briiki smiled softly. “[I do. Hatchlings and disinfectant – I guess I’ve gone a little noseblind to it after so many centuries, but… yes.]” She gave a non-committal wiggle of her head, a variation of a shrug for her kind. “[It’s nice, and you can always tell the new parents from the ones on their second or third round of child rearing based on how they react to entering the nursery. That ‘baby smell’ as you put it might be part of it.]”

“So… what would that make this?” Than mo whispered, pointing to the trembling, twitching mound of fur just to their left. As if on cue the mound began to move, a single low rumbling growl being rapidly joined with higher-pitched yips, squeaks, tired screams and other mouthsounds. A large head – Dorarizin, male by the mane – tilted up, his muzzle joined by a half-dozen smaller muzzles pointing up to the sky. Eyes opened up along the mound, dozens and dozens of pairs, some focusing on the male, some focusing on the caretaker, and some focusing on the new intruder.

“?Grr’s’t’t’t’?” one of the little wiggling mounds said, the act of speaking using up too much attention for the infant, it’s body rolling down the pile as it let go of the male caretaker’s arm.

It squeaked the whole way down.

As the pup landed on the soft padded loam with a pomf, the entire mound turned as one to stare at the human.

“Uh… Hello?”

“?owo?”

  “?owo?”

“?owo?”

The pile echoed and rippled the butchered human word as they all noticed the newcomer from across the floor – a few of the smaller pups trying to burrow into the neck and mane of the adult male for safety, because new was potentially spooky and adults meant safety. Than mo looked down at the ground, the one Dorarizin pup flopped on it’s back, limbs weakly treading against the air – their eyes met for the briefest of moments.

“?uwu?”

“No. That’s illegal.”

“[Mmmm? Oh! No sweetmeat no-]” The Dorarizin male started to chide one of the younglings, slowly and gently moving to try and disengage from the puppy-mound he was enveloped in. This, of course, was met with protests of various decibel volumes, causing the human to full-body flinch at the sudden sharp increase in noise. Something Big twitching usually means bad things to the infant brain, so there was now even more confused screaming and it would’ve gotten worse had it not been for the loud laughter of T’ciki’briiki.

“[Ah! I was wondering when it would all fall apart! Come along little ones, come on – no, no no.]” The Karnakian nurse cooed gently, reaching down to pick a clawful of pups, scattering them gently into the soft loam. The Dorarizin male was slowly unearthed as the daycare worker continued to strategically place pups around the room.

“Hello…?”

“[Oh, hey – oh! You’re one of the humans who was on stage for orientation! I’m Tipo!]” The Male said, holding a few orange-vested pups close to his chest as he regained freedom of movement.

“Oh! Yes I was. I take it you’re one of our new students?” Than mo said, slowly beginning to walk around the nursery as a few determined pups started to crawl towards him for investigation and maybe-he’s-edible purposes. “It’s good to meet you properly. We’ve got a meet-and-greet scheduled for next week, but there’s no reason why we can’t get ahead of the game.”

Than mo began to walk in very purposeful circles as a growing handful of Dorarizin pups attempted to crawl, wiggle and sometimes hop their way onto the human’s legs. “So, how did you enjoy your first day?”

“[It was awful.]” Tipo deadpanned, gently running his thumb over one of his pups’ heads, much to the little one’s delight. “[I mean, we’ve all done some first aid training, but. That was a lot worse than the training stand-ins.]”

“Yeah. I mean, that’s the point! Some days are fine and you coast along, and then right after lunch it all goes to shit.” Than mo said sagely, lifting a leg to let a Dorarizin pup sail past underneath. “Although we do want to be good neighbors, you’re not applying to deliver our food or help us with landscaping; shit’s going to hit the fan, and it’s going to keep hitting the fan until you retire.”

“[Why…]” Tipo worryingly looked at Than mo, tilting his head. “[That idiom – I hope it’s an idiom – didn’t translate.]”

“Ole!” Than mo said, dodging the telegraphed tackle of another pup. “Really helps when they full-body wiggle before the pounce like that. And sorry, I mean, there’s always going to be emergencies, all the time, and if you can’t handle one day of it you can’t handle a career of it.”

“[Makes sense.]” Tipo murmured, slowly standing up to the remaining protest of a few pups. “[Still.]”

“It was a mean trick to play, I know.” Than mo said, stepping up and over a raised foam barrier to lose his ever-growing crowd of adoring followers. “So, are you coming back?”

Tipo looked at his pups, who were busy wiggling around with the infinite burst of energy that youth provides. He smiled – until his eldest decided to bite his forearm. “[… Yeah. I love ‘em, but, I want to do something with my life.]”

“That’s the spirit!” with a little hup and a little hop, Than mo made his way around a few more waist-high barricades, deftly dodging the determined Dorarizin denmates. “We’d love to have you, but it’s not going to be easy.”

Tipo shrugged, a bouquet of puppies in his arms as he made his way to the exit. “[The good things in life are rarely easy, but they’re always worth it.]”

“[Well said!]” T’ciki’briiki laughed as she started to run interference, scooping up the more determined puppies and letting them be claimed by the loam-pit by their younger siblings. The two men exited the nursery to the defiant cries of random children, and as the door slid shut the couple were bathed in sudden silence.

“So are those yours? Or can anyone just-”

“[Oh!]” Tipo laughed, turning towards the smaller human. “[Yes, these are mine – first time father, but, I’ve got family local so it’s not that hard. Come on babies, say hi!]”

Than mo smiled and leaned a little bit forward, raising his hand to wave playfully at the puppies as they stared at him in confusion and curiosity. In doing so, however, he forgot a very simple fact:

Potat. Together. Strong.

And with a defiant wiggle one of those very potats launched themselves from Daddy’s arms, successfully latching onto Than mo’s face.

That’s when the screaming really began.

“[Hold still.]” T’ciki’briiki said, holding the applicator with clinical precision.

“[I’m really sorry.]” Tipo whined, purposefully keeping a hand on the shut tram that his pups were all jumping around in.

“It’s alright.” Than mo grinned, then grimaced as the spray-on bandaid was applied, the sudden change in pressure causing the mix to come out really cold. The potat, for all it’s supposed fury was really more or less just curious, and so when it successfully latched onto the thing it expected to sniff, snuggle, burrow and bite to figure out what it was. What the potat did not expect was the thing it landed on to start screaming.

That was potat’s job.

So she started screaming. This caused her sisters to start screaming, and then Dad started to scream and absolutely no burrowing got done. Instead, potat was lifted from the human’s head, but not before her dewclaws left a few cuts on his face and neck. The risk of death was nonexistent, but the risk of infection was a real thing, and so… well. A well-used first aid kid was currently open on the welcome desk, Than mo’s sandwich pushed to the side and all but forgotten. Than mo was no stranger to the order of operations for cleaning and dressing a wound, and was just thankful that the damage wasn’t worse.

“[Listen, really, I didn’t mean for-]”

“It’s all right, Tipo.” Than mo said, rolling his jaw to work the blood into his cold cheek, the applicator gel starting to harden and warm up. “It’s fine. I’ll see you at next session, yeah?”

“[Yes, again, sorry-]”

T’ciki’briiki chuckled, capping the applicator tip and twisting it off from the body of the can, tossing it into the trash. “[Oh brightsong, if I haven’t had to stop someone bleeding once a shift then I’m not doing my job. He’s fine, you’re fine, your children are fine, it’s fine.]”

“What she said.”

Tipo sighed and gave a little bow and wave, taking his stroller-full of pups and pulling it behind him to beat a hasty (and awkward) retreat. The two nurses watched him go and then shared a silent look with each other, before Than mo hopped out of his seat. “Well, that happened.”

“[Mmm. Honestly, never seen a human roll around so quickly.]”

“It’s not my fault, ok?” Than mo grinned, pointing at the retreating form of the Dorarizin family. “That little bastard latched onto my face and that’s just spooky, alright? It was warm and soft and screaming.”

“[Ah. Welcome to fatherhood.]”

“If you’re about to tell me how chicks are made, then you can skip it.”

“[Fair enough, but I do have diagrams.]” T’ciki’briiki laughed, wiggling her forearm feathers coyly. “[But, I believe we had some other places for you to visit?]”

“Oh! Yeah, sure, let’s see your chicks!”

“[My chicks are a couple hundred years old, Than mo.]” T’ciki’briiki continued as the human inhaled to correct himself, “[But I know what you mean. I’d be more than happy to show you around, but let’s… keep you in the visitor’s section, shall we? I’d rather we not have any more incidents until we get you a proper suit.]”

“Fair enough.”

The Karnakian checked her terminal and keyed in a few commands. A few minutes later a Dorarizin female showed up, and after the cursory small talk, introduction, stealth headpat attempts and stealth headpat dodges T’ciki’briiki and Than mo were freed for a 30 minute break. As they walked down the hallway, the corridor began to change; from earthy hues and rounded furniture to more gray, rocky tone with flat and even concave furniture. It was all basically still the “eggshell beige” that all hospital corridors were, but each species apparently had their own take on the nondescript color and the universally semi-comfortable waiting room decor. The small talk turned from the changing of the seasons, so to speak, to the overall layout of the hospital, parking situations, where the good cafeteria was, and even which doctors were a bit pissy before their coffee-analogue hit. All that talk ground to a halt when they rounded the corner, the wall a transparent one-way mirror into the nursery within.

The Karnakian nursery.

“No way. No way.” Than mo laughed, pressing his face up against the glass.

“[What? What seems to be the problem?]”

“I just… this. This.”

This was, of course, the nursery and the children within; as T’ciki’briiki began to explain what each mound, toy and instrument inside were, Than mo just let himself take in the spectacle. The Karnakian chicks were, for all intents and purposes, just little versions of their eventual adult forms – barring the fact that they universally had a very light-grey down covering their entire bodies. These little beachballs-with-mouths ran around the nursery at a breakneck pace, mouths wide in joyful cries as they dove headlong into what looked like a standing analogue for tall reeds. Much like the Dorarizin these reeds were very fake, but, it tickled something in their hindbrain and made them happy. There was a mound in the center-left, against the wall, as apparently being the tallest in the room was a universal need, and dozens of chicks took turns climbing to the top, knocking others off, and generally getting into mayhem. However, that’s not what captured Than mo’s rapt attention; it was a couple of chicks who were standing on top of one another. The top one would wiggle and crouch, and then just…

…just yeet the other one into the air by what looked like a deadlift maneuver. The two of them would then float down to the floor, slowly, before running around in childlike joy and scrambling to do it again.

“No problem, just. That’s incredible.” Than mo murmured, watching the karnkian chick do the equivalent of deadlifting itself into the air.

“[Hm? Nah, that’s just upsies.]” T’ciki’briiki said, shrugging. “[Eventually their down will fall out and gliding becomes harder. They’ll also gain a lot of weight, and at that point it’s nothing more than a nice memory.]”

“You can fly. Your kind can fly.”

T’ciki’briiki grinned. “[That wasn’t flying. More like… falling with style.]”

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Stories They are Smol

Smol Doctors at Large – Chapter 6

30 Hours almost always seems like a long time.

Well. If you want to be pedantic about it, then we’d have to define almost every word in there except 30. And “a”. Point is, 30 hours is a long time if you have nothing to do but hurry up and wait. And hurrying was something that a group of humans was doing, if only because everything was so frickin’ far away from everything else, and the newest addition to the hospital was, of course, the furthest thing away from anything around it. Somehow.

“I really… don’t think we’re going to get a good group this time.” Tiny-chomper-lookit-him-jump – eer, RN Than mo Tran said, idly rolling his arm to work out a persistent kink in his shoulder as he power-walked with the group. “The ones that remained were either spooky or squeamish.”

“Spooky will leave.” Tiny-chomper-needle-poke, AKA RN. James Wilson said, drawing in a sharp intake of breath to mask the power-walk struggle. “Squeamish is the issue. We haven’t even given them the rugber beggie bebbie breakies ye-”

“The. Rubber. Breaky. Baby. Bodies.” Tiny-chomper-sassy-slaps (and you would get those slaps if you called her that, so instead use her human name of) RN Laverne Roberts said between panting breaths, doing her best to follow the group. “And if I had known. You wanted me to get. My 10,000 steps in. 5 minutes. Doctor. I would have worn. Tennis shoes. Instead of flats today.”

“Look I’m sorry but we do have a tight schedule.” Dr. Nicholas Silver said, breathing heavy himself as he rounded the corner with his group on his heels. “Point being, I think we’ll get one… maybe two out of this group. Five would be stellar.”

Than mo gave a little half-jog to catch up before slowing back down to the breakneck walking pace. “Five would be excellent, but I doubt it. We’ve only got 7 out of the past three months; at this rate we’ll be an ambitious day clinic forever.”

“7 is better than nothing.” Dr. Silver said, checking his watch. “We should be arriving on-time for our preliminary walk-through…” Rounding yet another corner, the sound of footfall-on-tile turned to footfall-on-padded-plastic, the signs of new construction suddenly springing into existence. Down yet another unfortunately long hallway, a safety-vested Jornissian rested, talking idly with a few of her construction crew, including quite a few humans. Whatever the conversation was seemed to be a good one, as the crew was listening with rapt attention to their foreman – eer. Forewoman. Forenissian?

“[And then, so I say, Hey honey – if you’re that solid on the outside, how about we see how solid you are when you’re insi-]”

“Please. God. Not. Today.”

The Jornissian straightened up as Laverne panted out her exhaustion, coming to a stop a few yards behind the rest of her group. The rest of the crew immediately found something important to do and dispersed, letting the Jornissian team captain handle the spotlight all on her own. “[I… was not expecting you to arrive on time, Doctor. Nurses.]” The forenissian said, sheepishly bowing her shoulders slightly. “[Uh, usually it takes quite some time unassisted for your people to make it from point A to point B, as it were, so-]”

“What. Do you. Mean. Our. People?!” Laverne said, leaning heavily against the wall as she caught her breath, slumping down onto one of the still-covered-in-plastic-wrap benches in the waiting hallway.

“[I-I mean, just, your legs are so tiny-]”

“Look, I don’t know about you, but I don’t skip my calf raises. Point being, we have a tight schedule, so how about we just get to it – did the package arrive?”

The Jornissian looked at Dr. Silver flatly. “[Yes, it did. We set it up just down the hall-]”

There was a groan from the waiting hall bench behind him, and Dr. Silver sighed. “How far?”

The Jornissian team captain pointed to a small nearby alcove. With quick, purposeful steps Dr. Silver closed the gap, letting out a little laugh of joy – or relief. “Thank GOD. You’d think they’d give us more of these things, considering we’re going to be chronicallly understaffed for the near future…]”

“[If you don’t mind me asking, what is it?]”

“No way – that’s a Medical, Environmental, Defensive Inferrance Binural Omnidirectional Thinking assistant!” RN. James Wilson cooed, stepping around the confused Jornissian to look at the piece of high-tech equipment. “Who the hell did you bribe to get us a MEDIBOT, cap’n?”

Dr. Silver laughed again, flipping a switch on the MEDIBOT’s side. Round eyes glowed bright blue, the hum of internal machinery kicking into drive.

“MED-I-BOT.” Medibot so helpfully said, earning a pat on the head from the good Doctor.

“I just showed central our dismal pass rates, and they decided to let one of these top-of-the-line robots come out to little ol’ nowhere, Gentle Expanse.” Dr. Silver said, as Medibot whirred loudly. “They originally forecasted a massive volume of students, which – sure, they were right. But the fail rate was something central didn’t plan for, so.” Nick gave Medibot another pat on it’s antenna, and the tin-can looking assistant robot stood up.

“MED-I-BOT.” Medibot suggested, raising it’s grabber arms forward in the universal symbol of “hug me please.” Or possibly “ex-ster-min-ate”… it was very hard to tell.

“Ah. So you basically pointed out that we’re chronically understaffed even with 400,000 applicants.” Laverne called out, the wind finally back in her sails. “Bout damn time they started to listen to us out here.”

Medibot whirred to life, it’s cylindrical base starting to fan out and slowly vacuum the floor underneath as it trundled it’s way across the hallway, bumping into the wall, turning 15 degrees and moving further down into the construction pathway. The Jornissian looked at the humans… questioningly. “[That’s… That’s a medical robot?]”

“Yes. What?”

Medibot gently bumped into a potted plant, turning another 15 degrees and continuing his way down the corridor.

“[I just… um. That seems like very odd behavior for a medical drone.]”

Dr. Silver shrugged. “His father was a roomba, you see.”

And with that serving as the only explanation, the group followed Medibot further into the freshly-built Human medical wing.

Juan Esteban coughed, once, clearing his throat, and frowned. His office was mostly silent, save for the whir from the HVAC system kicking into higher gear as it attempted to filter the outside air before circulating it indoors. For the first few months of the illegal burns it did fine; the weather hadn’t shifted to be a bother, and the fragrance was even something sickly-sweet when the wind blew the green-blue smoke over his property. When this all started, at least there were companies – shell companies, sometimes – that would be monitoring the situation on the ground.

Now?

Now sometimes they had to keep the livestock inside because the smoke was so bad, and there was never anyone around to call and bitch to. Nobody wanted to admit fault to a wildfire, especially to nobody in code enforcement, but Juan had a sneaking suspicion that some palms were greased and greed was making men do stupid things. The new MO seemed to be setting large patches of wild acreage alight at random, see what turns up once the coals died down… but these fires were started and then abandoned, and damn the consequences to any bystanders.

But who would stop them? Who could blame them?

It’s not Juan’s land – it’s not anyone’s land – there’s no infrastructure damage, no danger of life lost, the forest would need to be cleared anyway for new development, and Mothing was an incredibly nascent and lucrative industry to get into.

“[…So, as your people say, my hands are tied.]”

Juan rolled his eyes at the screen, raising his arms in exasperation. “Persimmon, come on. Wiggles has to have filled you in on what we’re facing here! Hell, AQI puts the PM in the air well into the orange and red zones some days! I’ve had to send half my family home – not to the farmhouses, but back to Silver City – and -” Juan paused to clear his throat, which turned into a wet cough attack.

“[…you should get that looked at.]” The Jornissian on the other end of the screen said, tilting his body to the side slightly in thought. “[That can’t be healthy-]”

“Fucking exactly, Persimmon! This shit – ahem – only started once the burning got out of control! You NEED to do something! Central NEEDS to do something-”

The Jornissian sighed, the low bass rumble from the speakers rattling Juan’s desk slightly. “[Juan, I’ve said this before. What am I going to do? Have the fire brigades patrol every stretch of abandoned land on the planet? Do we have the PDF pull over and arrest every solo transport that lands in the wilderness? Are we to start tracking every transport on the planet that leaves any metro area, and put a satellite on them for their duration?]” With a copied exasperated Jornissian shimmy, Persimmon let his arms rest on the table. “[Juan, I want to help you – I’m serious, I do – and we stopped those registered companies from doing controlled burns near your livestock. Those who didn’t obey were fined, or had their licenses revoked. I can help you with legal activity, but I can’t do anything about illegal activity.]”

Juan cleared his throat, drinking deeply from a close bottle of water. “Ah, look. Persimmon, I know, and I appreciate you helping – but damnit, I can’t run a business like this if I have to keep everything shut up and my people can’t breathe!”

“[But it’s just the human population, correct?]”

“Yes! Which is an issue when Mothing is basically a human-only sport, Persimmon! I’m thankful for the hired hands, but I’ve had to shutter classes for the rest of the month, the air’s so bad – and on days when it’s good everything still smells like smoke! Fuck’s sake, Wiggles and the temps have spent every clear day scrubbing down everything just so it smells normal again, and I’m replacing 90 day filters every single week!” Juan leaned forward, raising one hand in a pleading gesture. “Do you have any idea how bad it is for everything when you bring a school full of kids to your farm and every single one of them goes home sneezing?!”

Persimmon looked at Juan with pity, shaking his head in a very human-like gesture. “[I understand the frustration, friend, but I can’t help you. You have to keep lodging burn complaints with the PDF. At some point, if you can show enough of a business loss we can start looking into it, but you are, so far, the only businesssuffering.]”

“So what, we wait until the smoke hits Silver City – and then what, suddenly everything will be taken care of? Once my farm’s written off because nobody can stand to live or work here from the fires?!”

Persimmon looked down at his desk, thoughtfully. “[I can help you apply for some emergency relief funds-]”

“GOD-just…” Juan’s outburst earned him another coughing fit, and he held up a hand to stop his friend from worrying. “Keh-It’s, khm, fine. Just – sore throat from all this…”

The silence was punctuated by a few errant coughs, the HVAC whining to full steam in the lull.

“Yeah. I’d like to apply for those loans, Persimmon.”

“[I’m sorry-]”

“I know.” Juan sighed, running his fingers through his thick black hair, a few errant strands coming away with his hand. “I know. Thank you.”

Persimmon tapped at his console, bringing up a few documents that he shared on the screen. “[Certainly, Juan. So, the first is a grant for non-agriculture payroll…]”

The wiring in the Human hospital wing was perfect. O2, H2O, H2O2 and various other more exotic gases and liquids wound themselves in insulated coils behind pristine walls, the only indication that they existed were the outlets to plug in the necessary machinery of the moment.

Speaking of the machines, they were all lined up, ready to use – the pinnacle of human medical technology. Each one a semi-autonomous beast, capable of helping the doctor or nurse on call to identify medication dosages properly, administer them, notify of conflicting side-effects, keep patients updated, update the line nurse as to patient statuses, and even perform certain life-saving tasks automatically if the AI’s subroutine figured a human was too far away to help.

Speaking of help, Medibot was there too. So that’s nice.

However, once you’ve checked the machines, wheeled them into either storage or the first few rooms, gone through diagnostics and let Medibot help there was just nothing else to do, and as we covered earlier, 30 hours is a long time to hurry up and wait.

Than mo figured that while everyone else caught dinner, he could wander around the complex. The hospital, although still well within Silver City’s municipal area, was massive. Like, square-city-block massive, if Than mo was comparing the building to something found on a human colony. As he meandered around it slowly dawned on him why – the hospital was basically four hospitals inside one building; although some spaces could be shared, like dining or the waiting room, others had to be purpose-built: an examination pad for a Jornissian was useless for a Karnakian, for example. This duplication of effort was found in anything from door sizes to room layouts, down to individual medical devices and, laughibly enough, cotton swabs. Well. Cotton-analogues.

Point being, Than mo wasted a few hours meandering the halls, stepping out of the way of other professionals, and making light small talk with the visitors as he explored. He was never lost, per se – every wing and every floor had helpful kiosks to point him in whatever direction he wanted to go – and if he did get turned around, there were dozens of people willing to “help him get to where he needed to be”.

Why some of them wanted to carry him there was beyond him.

And so Than mo wasted time, and explored, and pondered, and stole from vending machines using that flap trick until he found himself face-to-face with a very very excited Karnakian.

“So… what’s all this here?”

“[Oh! Why, it’s our day care center!]” T’ciki’briiki trilled happily, wiggling a little in place. “[Would you like for me to show you around?]”

Shrugging, Than mo rested his mountain of half-eaten snacks on the desk. “Sure! What harm could it do?”

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Stories They are Smol

They are Smol Doctors at Large – Chapter 5

Big was big.

Big was big because she was big. This one was not as big as big, or as big as sisters. This one was runt, but it was ok. This one knew when to burrow and when to wiggle and when to cry and Dad was close and Dad was safety. This one let Big be Big because it was small, and it did not want to fight.

Big was big. Big was also leader. This one knew to follow Big and to play with sisters and to burrow and to wiggle and Dad was close and Dad was safety, but Dad was not here.

This meant no safety. So this one went to Big, because Big was big and Big would be safety. Big was angry and Big was fighting and Big was strong and Big attacked-!

. . .

Big was gone. This one was upset, and she and her sisters began to cry.

“?RARRR’ARASA’BGRAFNA?”

“|Gooootcha. Oooh, yes, ferocious, you’re a strong one aren’t you? Yes you are~|” T’ciki’briiki cooed gently, holding the largest and most feisty Dorarizin pup in her hands. She had handled enough pups through the decades to know how to handle the primordial pack mentality:

  (1) Get the biggest one first.

  (2) There is no .

T’ciki’briiki chuckled as the little girl ferociously ‘fought’ against her ministrations, the careworker looking the little pup over for any injuries or anything that would cause harm, accepting the bites and defiant clawing of little hands and teeth. Noting nothing, she turned and put the largest pup down on a warm table, making sure the rest of her currently-screaming family-pack could see. Quickly and with practiced ease, she wrapped the harness around the fussy toddler, securing the torso, then the arms, then the legs. Finished, she tapped a small, soft icon on the harness’ back, the RFID indicator beaming out a confirmation.

“?AWR’AAAGHAHGBA-?”

“|Aaah, yes, it isn’t the best color for your fur, but that will have to do.|” T’ciki’briiki smiled, lifting up the still-flailing-still-attacking pup and placing her back into the tram she came in with. As she deposited the largest pup, she reached in for the second largest, repeating the process. The pups still in the carriage greeted the largest one with inquisitive yips, bites and body-tackles, their screaming now only coming in intermittently as they remembered, then forgot, then remembered that they were missing someone. By the time the second toddler was suited up and tagged the screaming had started again, and T’ciki’briiki gently placed the second pup in the tram, pulling out the third. By the fourth or fifth time this had happened, most of the pups realized they were going to experience an altogether new sensation that wasn’t going to kill them, so outside of the general “that’s my purse I don’t know you” wiggling that happened whenever they were picked up, the screaming died down.

“|Aaah, and you, little one.|” T’ciki’briiki cooed, pulling out the runt of the litter. Although every so often – especially in larger litters – there would be a runt, it really didn’t carry over into later in life. A few good years of hearty meals and all kids grew up big and strong, but until then there would be runts and stunts and baldies and all sorts of little adorable quirks that T’ciki’briiki could exploit. Case in point, the runt of this litter didn’t even fight and almost leaned back, accepting whatever fate would befall it.

T’ciki’briiki smiled widely and gently rubbed the girl’s head, the soft babyfur between the ears tickling the nub of her finger near her shaved-down claws. “|Aww, you’re the livelyberry of the bunch, aren’t you?|”

“?ABLBL.?” Livelyberry responded, splaying out on the table and giving almost no fuss to being suited up. T’ciki’briiki gently placed the runt in with the rest of the litter and closed the canopy, letting them get used to being together again and being safe again.

Then she wheeled them right into the middle of the playpen.

Big was big and Big was strong and Big was safe and Big was yelling. This one knew as much, and played with her sisters as they were all safe again and everything smelled like Dad and it was ok, but Big was yelling. This one did not know why, and so was determined to play with Big because sisters were all here and it smelled like Dad and it was safe. Moving forward as rapidly as this one could, she tackled Big in the way toddlers do, which is less a coordinated move and more bumping into and then falling ontop of her sister. It was at this point that this one knew why Big was still yelling.

There were others outside. Non-sisters. And some of them…

…were Big.

Dr. Nicholas Silver continued to cast his gaze over the group of hopefuls that remained before him. As was to be expected, the sudden shock of trauma – bloody, screaming trauma – was not something their class was prepared for, and that was entirely the whole point. As an ER surgeon, you could be spending a couple hours just fucking around with friends, handling some of the more benign cases, and then suddenly there was a tram crash and you’ve got 15 people headed for your doors in the next 5 minutes. You never got to pick and choose what happened, when it happened, or how it happened – only what you were going to do, when you were going to do it and how you were going to save those people who came in through your doors.

Everyone – from Hospital Administrator to the Janitor – needed to be aware of how things worked, and needed to be aware of what they were going to see. You never got a head’s up, so… well.

Why should the trainees?

To this class’ credit, only a third of them immediately left the room. That always piqued Nick’s curiosity; what did they think they were volunteering for? It’s a Hospital for God’s sake, not a coffee shop. Did they sign up expecting, what, that they’d get to play bedside nurse to non-emergency patients only? To physically leave – that was an immediate fail, as it should be, and Nicholas pushed them out of his mind.

The bottom third, the ones that kept their eyes on the screen with rapt attention – those were the ones that worried Nick. Some revulsion was good, especially coming from a civilian life, as they all had, so to show none… It’s one thing to focus, but it’s another thing entirely to almost revel in the spectacle splayed out before them. These were people, after all, not imaginary things, and being too detached from you work… although it helped you to get through the day, it wasn’t good to totally dehumanize your patients. This group would whittle down quite substantially: there would be those who would pass the course, certainly, but a majority would fail just by lack of empathy. Bedside manner was just as important as the ability to not let things get to you. Balance, in everything.

That left the middle third. The middle third… was always the ones that would be the meat of the passing class, but were the hardest to read. They’re civilians, so none are expected to be stone-cold efficient machines… but they’re also expected to keep calm under pressure and do what they’re instructed. Empathy, yes, and in spades, but also a cool head. Some would fall too far on either side of the spectrum and weed themselves out, but those that stuck around would usually be the right stuff to join the team.

If they stuck around. So few… made it.

‘Case in point.’ Thought Dr. Silver, as he saw a Dorarizin male grimacing at his terminal. As far as he could tell the intern didn’t even have his eyes open, but he was at least still sitting down, still …listening to what was going on.

“For everyone who still remains, congratulations. You’ve survived the class’ first great culling.” Dr. Silver said a bit too dramatically, earning him a light chuckle from RN. Laverne Roberts. “Point being, this may mimic one of your typical work days. You might be working in the infant ward, and then pulled into trauma. You might be performing life-saving treatment on a teenager, then helping an elder with a prosthetic fitting. We don’t know what will happen on any given day, and medical technology has only progressed so far – if it were perfect, Hospitals wouldn’t even exist for your our kind, let alone yours. Dr. Solid-” Nick nodded towards the elderly Jornissian Doctor, who gave a little wave, “-will back me up on this, because he’s lived it with Jornissian patients as well. You must be able to handle yourself, to keep your cool, and to follow orders. The class’ first day was meant to reflect that.”

The video ended, and Dr. Silver gave the interns a few moments to compose themselves. There were a few sobs, a few sighs, and a few people staring intently at the lectern. Hm.

Tipo’s eyes were screwed shut so hard that they ached. The tiny-chomper lost her infant, apparently, and after that they tried to save someone who was involved in a vehicle accident. After that, chemical sickness. After that, burns.

After that, he just shut his eyes.

Ngruzren focused on his breathing as various orders were barked into his ears, the cries of patients filled the spaces, and the sounds of odd machines punctuated any silence that the video would give. He didn’t turn away; well, he couldn’t, really – he needed to be there, to see this, but

But it was way too much.

The sudden silence as the video was cut off didn’t register for the first few moments, and eventually the translated voice of a tiny-chomper started to speak to him about keeping cool, maintaining focus, handling pressure…

Tipo sighed, and opened his eyes, focusing on the lectern at the bottom of the amphitheater. Dr. Tiny-chomper-wiggle-hands was talking as if nothing happened – as if all that pain and suffering wasn’t real, and for a brief moment Ngruzren hoped that was the case; that this was a prank, that it was a trick, and that he was signing up for a normal job. For once.

“[-So I think that’s all we should cover for today. We’d like for you to return here, roughly 30 hours from now, for day two’s lecture. Your homework-]”

Wait. Homework?

“[-will be to review the basic CPR and Triage Handbooks for your respective species. Also, you are to review the first [Olympus Mons] shuttle crash footage, and give us a write-up over what physical trauma you notice come through the doors, and how the tiny-chomper medics responded. That information will be downloaded to your Hospital account within the next hour. No Questions. Good.]” Dr. Tiny-chomper-wiggle-hands gave the group a little bow, and raised the lights, making small talk with the other medical professionals as he did so.

How could… how could they just do that? Act as if nothing had happened? Act as if it was all so normal?! If something like this happened to his pups, Ngruzren would never forgive hi-

Wait.

HIS PUPS-

This one did not know where Big went, but that was ok; there was another Big and this Big was fighting another Big and that was ok too. So many Bigs meant so many safes and it didn’t smell like Dad but that was ok too. This one was surrounded by a lot of new-sisters and some new-not-sisters, and they were her size and some were larger and some were smaller and it was ok the burrow was warm. A new-sister squealed as this one burrowed past her, the sensation of new-sisters following in her burrow-wake a welcome one.

Potat. Together. Strong.

One of Ngruzen’s pups gave a little squeal of joy as it sank into the burrow-pit, and T’ciki’briiki laughed. To be so young again, so free! Ah, it was adorable. Idly she scanned the rest of the Dorarizin-den; There were a few larger pups fighting each other – no blood, no pain, so it was no concern – and a few on the mound taking turns knocking each other off into the burrow pit below – where the younger of her charges would grab onto the harness and pull the victim into the soft fabric loam.

T’ciki’briiki smiled and leaned back, looking over her monitors. Her shift was Dorarizin today; her colleagues were handling Jornissian and Karnakian, and then tomorrow they’d rotate, per usual. Hundreds of sensors embedded into… well, everything was pouring data back to her terminal, and everything appeared normal. Well. There was urine in some spots, a few ferocious fights, some broken toys and a bunch of food paste smeared over the walls, so everything was normal for the certain age group that she was monitoring. With a content sigh T’ciki’briiki cupped her mug of hot tea, tipping it up to take a sip.

It was at this point, of course, that the new father and hypochondriac-for-his-kids Ngruzen somehow slammed open the automatic sliding door, his body still skidding to a halt from what was apparently a breakneck sprint to the nursery.

T’ciki’briiki had seen it all, and made a point to gently sip her tea, unflinching. “|Good first day?|”

“[MY BABIES.]”

T’ciki’briiki chuckled and gently placed her mug down on her desk, keying in a few commands. The clear window-screen behind her turned slightly opaque, the pups who were wearing the harnesses of a particular RFID signal started to glow on-screen. “|As you can see, alive and well! Somehow they survived through snack time too. Should I go get-|”

“[NO! No, please, let me just… let me hold them, please. I’ll go an-]”

Now, T’ciki’briiki knew that she shouldn’t let the new father into the playpen. She knew that her supervisors knew, and she knew that doing so would probably mean a write-up.

It would also make for excellent security camera footage.

“|Sure. Your pups are in the orange vests.|” With a few keystrokes, the door slid open, the sounds and smells of a couple dozen toddler Dorarizin flooding the waiting area. Ngruzen made it a good… 10 feet in, and possibly got to one of his own pups, before there was a noticeable shift.

You see, when you are a father picking up your own pups, your own pups react in a certain way. The other pups pick up on that, and any father is a good father when you’ve been abandoned by your parents since before snacktime, and so…

As Ngruzen kneeled to hug his smallest daughter, he was slowly encompassed by pups not his own. By the time he realized what was happening, it was far too late.

With a squealing chorus of joy, Ngruzen was slowly absorbed into the pup-mound as they lept, crawled and burrowed into him from all directions.

T’ciki’briiki would give it about 15 minutes before going into rescue him… the poor dear seemed like he needed the comfort.

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