Alert

Jul 14, 2025

Suddenly, she heard a raucous noise and looked up, startled. But then she looked back down to her wrist, where her comp was flashing and vibrating.

Report immediately to Med Bay One (Lass Fresher) it said, with a symbol indicating that the comp would direct her there.

Her long hours in sims had trained her that the word ‘immediately’ was not a word to be take lightly so, without bothering to take her leave, she scooted her chair back and left at a run… altho not so quickly as to not notice that many other people in the hall were, themselves, moving ‘immediately’. As she ran down the hallway, she passed rankers moving the other way, and lasses and children moving with her.

The fresher wasn’t that far away, but she was far from the first person in the room. The others were all busy opening up compartments from the walls, and lifting up beds… or med tables anyway… from the floor. She glanced down at her comp,

Incoming casualties via Rescue Squad 411. Casualties had been hidden in base earlier assaulted, and only found when tech crew went into base. Casualties all seriously invested.

Assignment Illoia Tomirosh-A: Assist with patient assigned to Bed 27

She was told and followed the directions to the bed. Once there, she saw a lad, perhaps 12 standard, who she recognized from the first dorm, the one headed by the Top Ranker that was also Tom’s exec. The lad was busy dragging a kit over from one of the compartments in the wall and was opening it up next to her assigned bed.

He glanced at his comp, did a kind of double-take, glanced nervously at her, and said, “Please help me prepare our equipment.”

She realized his problem… he was ‘in charge’ of this table, but she was older and the wife of the leader. “Yes, Sir,” she said, trying to be formal and put him at his ease.

Her time with Tom had served her in good stead so, instead of asking what he meant by ‘help prepare’, she looked at the kit and watched him for a few seconds… which was all it took for her to realize that each of the items in the kit had a place around the edge of the table… a little hollow, which was clearly labeled, and, indeed, the items used a standard ‘hot/cold’ algorithm as she picked them up to guide her to the right nook.

“Ok, we’re ready,” he said, when the last item had been placed in the last nook. “I see we do have an assigned patient, as well. We will triage and then begin working.”

“Triage?” she asked.

“I will take a few seconds… perhaps while you remove the clothing… to determine what level of case this is. If it is a high enough level, I will request a medic.”

“How will you make that determination?” she asked.

“By the nature of any extra injuries, and by the placement of the investments.”

“Investments?”

“That’s the term we use,” he said. “If they are close to vital organs… which they usually aren’t… then we would call over a medic for the extraction. If we can get one.”

“But what is an…” she started to ask, when suddenly a large hatch opened in the far wall and, seconds later, soldiers with their full armor active started pouring in, carrying stretchers. They seemed to understand the numbering system as it seemed like their table got more or less the 27th patient in.

She gasped when she saw their patient, but, true to her training, didn’t let her shock slow her down from field undressing the patient.

The ‘patient’ seemed to be a lad of about four standard years; he didn’t seem to be injured in the normal way, but was covered with… welts? They were bumps about as big as the pad of her thumb, and the poor lad was literally covered with them.

And he was obviously unconscious. He had a medical comp on his wrist, which displayed his vital signs, but a glance at it showed that no medicine was being administered. “What are these?” she asked the lad, who was looking the patient rapidly over from head to toe, and prodding everywhere.

“Those? Investments! Haven’t you ever seen them before?”

“I don’t even know what that is… what they are?”

“Investments. Bug bites. How the bugs reproduce. Bug eggs, or larvae, or something like that.”

“All of these?!”

“That’s a fairly standard number,” he said, glancing over the lad. “If they put in too many, the patient dies, and that does them no good.”

“Now, I don’t see any actual injuries, so let’s begin extraction. It looks like we have a very good chance to save this one. I take it you have never done an extraction?”

“No.”

“Watch, then, and I’ll assign you a low-risk area.”

She watched, fascinated and appalled, as he picked up an instrument and quickly made an incision into the patient’s skin, to one side of one of the bumps.

“You don’t cut directly over the ‘investment’?” she asked.

“No. You need to feel for where the egg actually is. The bump is raised in reaction to the investment; it isn’t the egg itself. It’s more like a mosquito bite… a reaction to the chemicals in the investment process. The egg itself is buried in the muscle tissue… usually.”

All the time, he had been using the same instrument to slice deeper and deeper until, finally, he said, “Here! Look.”

She looked and there, in what she recognized as muscle tissue, was a whitish, grayish, thready… it almost looked like a cocoon! But inside was something squirming…

… which the lad, using a different implement, pulled out and placed in a tray he had by the side of the patient. “Once you remove the investment, you need to sterilize the wound,” he went on. “Use the UV sterilizer, then place a healing implant.”

She had seen healing implants before, with their little tails, but had never used one and watched, fascinated, as the lad first used the UV sterilizer, then placed the implant, then used a kind of glue gun to hold and glue the wound closed.

“Start on his calf,” the lad said, “That is the simplest area.”

Illoia realized that he was giving her an order, and that she now had to imitate the procedure she had just seen. She quickly confirmed that she could find all of the tools the lad had used, and then stared at the calf. It was all over bumps!

“The quicker we remove them, the more chance this lad has of living,” her partner said, as he finished a second ‘investment’ while she was still staring. She gulped and began poking around, found what she thought must be an ‘investment’, and began cutting.

Article 17

Article 17 is a military science fiction story with aliens and romance. It is set in a future reminiscent of Napoleon era Britain. The war was going very poorly until the military installed a dictator. This story follows one of the dictator’s great men: Cladin Tomirosh, Leader, and thrice decorated hero.

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Thank you for reading Von’s Substack. I would love it if you commented! I love hearing from readers, especially critical comments. I would love to start more letter exchanges, so if there’s a subject you’re interested in, get writing and tag me!

Being ‘restacked’ and mentioned in ‘notes’ is very important for lesser-known stacks so… feel free! I’m semi-retired and write as a ministry (and for fun) so you don’t need to feel guilty you aren’t paying for anything, but if you enjoy my writing (even if you dramatically disagree with it), then restack, please! Or mention me in one of your own posts.

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If you get lost, check out my ‘Table of Contents’ which I try to keep up to date.

Von also writes as ‘Arthur Yeomans’. Under that name he writes children’s, YA, and adult fiction from a Christian perspective. His books are published by Wise Path Books and include the children’s/YA books:

The Bobtails meet the Preacher’s Kid: A Christian historical fiction chapter book about four orphans who go to live with their aunt on a dairy farm.

The Bobtails and the Cousins: The sequel to Preacher’s Kid. The aunt has married, and the cousins come to visit. Meaning town kids dealing with chores and manure and…

The Bobtails go to France: The sequel to cousins. The Bobtails, and Preacher’s Kid, get to take a trip to New York, London, Paris, and a small town in France. To get some cheese.

and

No Ordinary School: A brilliant but socially clueless boy gets recruited for a special school. Where he makes a lot of money, gets a girl, and solves a mystery. And…

Without a Word: A young woman, betrothed against her will to a disreputable older man. How will she honour God and her husband in this difficult marriage? (Published on Substack exclusively.)

As well as GK Chesterton’s wonderful book, “What’s Wrong with the World”, for which ‘Arthur’ wrote most of the annotations.

Arthur also has a substack, and a website. On the substack you can listen to some of his published books. Free.

Thanks again, God Bless, Soli Deo gloria,

Von