SIMS 09

Zero watched the surreal scene below with a by-now-familiar mix of anticipation and dread. The faint aftereffects of the Scotch had evaporated when he received Romy's message. He'd arrived at the hospital shortly after Betsy and the others, and left Tome and Kek parked in the van while Patrick admitted him through the doctor's entrance. Like every other department in the hospital, security was a skeleton crew because of the holiday; so Zero, wearing a hat pulled low, dark glasses, and a scarf around his lower face, made it to the OR suite without being stopped.

Betsy had commandeered the amphitheater OR, and now Zero gazed down at a brightly lit operating table fifteen feet below, where a nurse was scrubbing and shaving Meerm's distended belly. The sim lay tense and trembling with IVs running into both arms. The hovering dark-skinned anesthetist, who Betsy referred to as Madhuri, was ready to put her under.

The scrub nurse looked up and said, "Hey! Who's the guy in the mask?"

Zero leaned back out of sight. He'd replaced the hat and scarf with his usual ski mask.

"A trusted friend," Betsy said. "Don't worry about him, Joanna. Just get our patient prepped."

Betsy had told him she'd chosen the amphitheater for its audio-visual system, and Zero thought that an inspired idea. They could still lose this war; maybe an A-V record would provide some insurance. The problem was how to get the system up and running.

"There," Patrick said, close at his side as he sighted along the top of the mounted camera. "That's pointing in the general direction."

Zero turned and seated himself at the computer console. "Good. Now let's see if we can get a picture."

"You know how to work this sort of rig?" Patrick said, leaning over his shoulder.

"Not really, but it seems to be a dedicated system, and if the menu's at all intuitive..."

The menu formed on the screen and Zero groaned. It looked like a crossword puzzle with numbered feeds and rows ofinput from andoutput to and acronyms he didn't understand. Suddenly the air in the balcony seemed too thin. He ripped off the mask and took a deep breath. He looked down at his trembling fingers poised over the keyboard. It wasn't just the computer program, it was everything...

the huge responsibility that he'd taken on over the past couple of years...he felt as if it were all crashing down on him at once. Everything he'd been living for hinged on what he and these good humans did here tonight.

He took another breath and focused on the screen. He could handle this.

A little trial and error, a lot of intuition...he could do it. He had to do it.

  Meerm so ver fraid. Not fraid needle. Fraid this place. And fraid hurt. Hurt so bad.

"Okay now, Meerm," say mask lady. Nice lady. "I'm going to make the hurt go away."

Meerm feel warm, feel hurt go. This ver nice lady.

"I'm going to put you to sleep now, Meerm," lady say. "And when you wake up, you'll have a baby. Won't that be nice?"

Yes. Baby. Meerm baby. So nice. Meerm want hold, want kiss. Make baby safe. Hold-hold-hold and nev let go.

Sleepy now, but not stop think baby...Meerm baby...Meerm ver own baby...happy Meerm...