Do No Harm

click clack

Audio opens to the sounds of an emergency room

Kat: Good. You’re here.  

Margot: I am. Care to explain why?

Kat: No time.

Margot: Wrong answer. Reading from her phone At Saint Clare ER. Come now. Please.”

As far as I can tell, you are not grievously injured and on the verge of death, so tell me why I ran three traffic lights, exceeded the speed limit to an extent that even Voncid would find concerning, and parked illegally to find you.  I HATE fucking parking tickets.

Kat: I’m sorry, I just–

Margot: No. getting angry  No “just.” After everything that happened. Everyone we lost. You can’t...you can’t do that. You can’t text me from the fucking hospital and not tell me what’s going on. Quieter I thought you were hurt, Kat. 

Kat: I know. I’m sorry, I am. I…I wasn’t thinking. I was just worried they would leave and I wouldn’t be able to find them, and I couldn’t take that Margot, I couldn’t just let them get away.  

Margot: calmer Who?

Kat: I…*hesitating*...You’re recording this?

Margot: Yes, I’m recording this, on account of the I-thought-you-were-dead thing. You know it’s protocol now.

Kat: Can this be… off the books?  I don’t know how this is going to shake out.

Margot: No.  beat but don’t worry about it.  Master Cid and I have an understanding. 

Kat: Ok… yeah. Um, I got back on the apps…

Margot: Which you were explicitly forbidden to do. 

Kat: Yeah, I know, I know. 

Margot: Do you?  Quoting: “The Cypher has been abjured to the outside of the vessel, but its Sliver, now going by the name CC has kept its systems online.  Until such time as she is dealt with, members of the Order are to eliminate use of social media and mass broadcast entertainment.  I’m missing all MY shows.  Do you know how fucking mad that makes me?  But I am a good soldier and I do what I’m told.  You want to be a good soldier don’t you?

Kat: Yes.

Margot: So what the fuck are you doing?

Kat: It’s just, it’s like you said, after everything…I needed something familiar. Something more straightforward, something I understood. I wasn’t even necessarily going to do anything about it, I just wanted to see if I would find anyone. And I did, I found him, sorry them, I know Feeders are genderless, everything human about them is an act, but… this one… seems a lot like a real person. beat It’s troubling… and it’s not…I don’t know, increasingly anxious something’s not right, they aren’t like the others, not like anything I’ve ever seen– 

Margot: Kat. Stop. Slow down and tell me what you found. 

Kat: Right. Ok. You see that doctor over there? With the hair and blue headband? Dr. Stuart Walsh. They are a feeder.

Margot: You’re sure?

Kat: too emphatically Yes pause I mean, I was sure, when I saw their profile, but then? I don’t know, things got weird. Their profile just said they are an ER doctor, so I looked them up to see where they worked. 

Margot: Jesus Christ.

Kat: What? I didn’t use Order resources or anything. I just Googled them. You know, as you do when you meet someone online. unable to resist in spite of everything Wait… do you date?

Margot: I’m too angry for sex.

Kat: that’s not what I asked.

Margot: Move it along, Kat. What did you find?

Kat: Yeah, ok. Dr. Walsh seems legit. They’ve been at St. Clare’s for two years and did their residency here before that. 

Margot: So?

Kat: So, that’s too long! Feeders don’t usually stay in the same state for longer than a few months, much less in the same job. I’ve never even known one of them to have a job, they just mooch off their victims. beat I wanted to see for myself.

Margot: So much for “not doing anything about it.”

Kat: Just looking, I swear! But then I got here, and they are even stranger in person. Like, you know there’s no privacy in an emergency room, I’ve just been sitting here watching–

Margot: Do I want to know how you managed to get back here?

Kat: Probably not, Margot.  I don’t know, it seems like they are really taking care of people …I have to figure out what’s going on. If I’m right, we can’t just leave them here and if I’m wrong then they’re something new and we should tell someone. Right? 

Margot: Alright, fine. But only because I want to stab something. And I swear, if you ever pull anything like this again, I’ll have you on research duty in the archives for at least a month.  

Raising her voice Excuse me, doctor? A word?

Dr. Walsh: I’m sorry, who are–  Oh. Polite, but not afraid Of course. It’s a lovely day, perhaps we could go outside? There’s a garden behind the chapel.

Margot: After you. 

click clack

Audio pauses, resumes outside 

Dr. Walsh: Well then, I’m curious. How did you find me?

Kat: This is you, right? You’re “tired of ordering takeout for one?”

Dr. Walsh laughing, genuinely amused Oh are you the one that’s been turned that little game around? You’ve earned yourself quite the reputation. How many have you gotten now?  Eight?  Nevermind, nevermind.  But I hate to disappoint you, I haven’t used that account in years; I didn’t even know my profile was still active. I’ll happily show you my phone to prove it and we can all get along with our day. 

Kat: It doesn’t matter. We know what you’re doing. 

Dr. Walsh: Do you? Really?

Kat: You’re draining these poor people of their, their stumbling, but trying not to show it their vitality. Their essence. You’re masquerading as a doctor and… and finding the worst cases to suck out the last bit of life before they die, the ones no one would suspect… or…or leaving them brain dead and altering their charts to say they had a stroke or something…

Dr. Walsh: still laughing I thought you knew what I was doing?

Kat: I know enough. The specifics don’t matter. You’re evil.  You’re killing people.

Dr. Walsh: I’m not. Well, I don’t know about evil, I’m not here to discuss morality, if it exists, but I am a doctor. I have the diploma hanging in my office, not that I think that would convince you.  I swore an oath, and those matter to my kind.  A lot.

Margot: oh yeah?  First do no harm… that anyone can trace back to me?

Dr. Walsh: I’m not killing anyone. I know about the Order and I assure you I’m on the right side of your rules. That, what did you call it, vitality? That’s as good a word as any, though not the one I would choose. Where could you possibly find more of it than in a hospital? We’re surrounded by life and death, joy and grief, hope and pain–the essence of humanity has seeped into the very walls of this place. I don’t have to with distaste suck anything from my patients. It pours off of them like sweat. Their families too, for that matter. The relief of the husband made it here in time. The anguish of the one who didn’t. The fervor and faith of a bedside vigil, whatever the religion. The devastation when it doesn’t work. The air is thick with vitality.

And if, perhaps, the room is a bit calmer when I leave, if the tears don’t fall quite as fast, if the despair is not quite as smothering, well, I suppose I just have a calming presence.  Good bedside manner.  MUCH better bedside manner than my siblings.

It’s not as much as if I were feeding from one single person, but in the dozens, hundreds of patients in the course of a week? It’s more than enough.  

Margot: So, what? You saw the error of your ways and turned toward the light?  You a nice demon?

Dr. Walsh: Hardly. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not an altruist and I don’t pretend to be. I’m well fed and far safer than my siblings who choose to hunt in the more traditional manner. Especially recently.  Someone kicked the hornet’s nest and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by us bit players how much more hardball The Order is playing.  

But the world has far more shades of gray than you’d care to admit. Everyone must eat. There is no inherent evil in doing what you must to survive. 

Kat: That’s not what this is about. You don’t just do it for survival. You do it because you like it. 

Dr. Walsh: Eat to live, don’t live to eat.  I get a rush of positive reinforcement chemicals when I eat, just like you, but I am not an addict.  I will admit that some of my siblings enjoy…playing with their food… but, at the end of the day, do you condemn the shark for their position as an apex predator, or do you stay out of their way.

Margot: Is that a threat?

Dr. Walsh: sweetly Of course not. Since you seem to enjoy philosophical debates so much, I merely thought I’d propose one of my own. I will speak more plainly, if the nuance is too confusing for you. I am not hurting my patients. I am not hurting their families. I am not hurting my fellow physicians, nor any nurses, orderlies, janitorial staff, etcetera, etcetera. I am providing the best possible care I can and feeding myself in the process. Everyone wins. 

Is that clear enough? If you’re so concerned about my patients you should probably let me get back to them…

Kat: No. 

Margot: Kat…

Kat: No. I don’t care what you’re doing now, you’ve hurt people before, I know you have!

Dr. Walsh: Of course I have. I don’t deny it. I’ve also saved people. Many, many people. As I said, I have no interest in discussing morality, but since you clearly do– how do you judge the balance of lives lost and saved? Is it strictly numbers? Or do you take into account importance? Is a teacher worth more than a stockbroker, because of their impact on the world? Is a child worth more because of the years they’ve yet to live, or an octogenarian because of the wisdom they’ve accrued? It’s a slippery slope to start down, deciding what a life is worth. 

Kat: I’ve seen how you leave people. Nothing you do can ever make up for that. 

Dr. Walsh: Ah. How is your sister?

Kat: How the fuck do you know about my sister. 

Dr. Walsh: I told you. You’ve got quite the reputation.  My siblings and I have conversations of a sort, at night, in our dreams.  That web of fear and grief and sex and hunger… Its difficult, but you pick things up.

Kat: you’re a killer.  It doesn’t wash off.

Dr. Walsh:  It doesn’t?  How many lives have you taken? Since we’re speaking of killing, what was your final count? Eight? Nine? Made any mistakes yet?  Stabbed any hearts and not gotten the reaction you expected?  Has red human blood spilled yet?  Or all just my kind?  Not that I care, mind you. We’re hardly a social species and quite frankly the ones you found were drawing entirely too much attention to themselves. Made it extremely unsafe for the rest of us. But still. For the sake of our hypothetical, let’s add your actions to the equation. 

Kat: quietly The rest…

Dr. Walsh: Oh, dear. You didn’t really think that was all of us, did you? That a silly little girl like you could really be a threat to us. Or that they’d let you live if you were.

Kat: Fuck you.

Margot: Warningly Kat…

Dr. Walsh: Oh, good. Righteous Anger.  I don’t get nearly as much as that particular emotion here. Some, of course, the men who convert their every feeling to rage, who scream at the driver who hit their child, at the orderly who didn’t respond quickly enough, at the universe itself if no one else is nearby. But still creepy inhale Delicious.

Kat: I will–

Margot: Kat. Sit. Down. Now.

Dr. Walsh: Yes, Kat, listen to Margot. So cool under pressure. Or… hmm, is there something else driving her?  So hard to tell when someone’s heart is in a vice.  I can’t smell anything under that raging grief.  Oh, don’t look at me like that. Everyone knows about the Ardent’s little incident. I work with some wonderful plastic surgeons, by the way. I’d be happy to write you a referral. Another creepy sniff There’s something ugly under all that sad… I think… Fear?  It stinks.  

Margot: speaking carefully I don’t know who decided fear was a bad thing. The only people I know who aren’t afraid are dead. Fear keeps you sharp. Keeps you from underestimating your opponent. 

If you were more afraid, you might have noticed.

Dr. Walsh: The others?  Is there a little red dot on my forehead?  But Margot… there are so many people. Someone could get hurt. 

Margot: The phrase surgical precision seems fitting in this environment. 

Pager sounds

Dr. Walsh: Well, what’s the expression?  The devil’s own luck?

Margot: What?

Dr. Walsh: Interesting development.  My patient just crashed. They need me back in the ER. 

Kat: Why do you care?

Dr. Walsh: Does it matter? Does it make any difference if I go racing back out of a desire to preserve my image, to keep up my numbers and hold on to this job that keeps me safe and fed, or if I do it because I care about this person and their life? Whatever the reason, if you let me go back now, that patient has a better chance of living and if you keep me here they are more likely to die. The choice is yours. 

Or do you need to know more about them first? I didn’t have a chance to ask what they do for a living, considering the massive amount of blood pouring from their head and chest. They weren’t wearing a seatbelt; does making poor choices factor into your decision? No visitors yet, but, again, too much blood to really get anyone’s contact information. Tick tock, Kat, the clock is ticking. Your moral dilemma is now significantly less hypothetical. 

long pause

Margot: Go. 

Dr. Walsh: I trust you can all see yourselves out. 

Margot: We will be in touch.

Another pause

Kat: Dr. Walsh?

Dr. Walsh: sighs It is not possible for someone in your sister’s condition to recover. But I work in a hospital. I see impossible things every day. 

Pager sounds again I really do have to go. Good luck. 

Make good choices. 

Margot: Surprised. Huh.

Kat: What?

Margot: I think I kinda like them.  I mean, I’m gonna kill them someday, but still…

Kat: Fuck’s sake…

Margot: I’m an outcomes person…

Kat: What’s that mean?

Margot: I just like people who can get me things I want.  You should to.  The good doctor just might become one of your very favorite people.

Kat: What the fuck are you talking about…

Margot: Yeah… just a second.  pause Hey, this is Angiers.  Need a pick up and drop off.  Black bag.  Class 2 bind… actually better make it class 3, this is a busy hospital. 

beat 

Kat: What was that?

Margot: nothing, I’ll tell you later.

Kat: Jesus christ… can we please PLEASE go hit something.

click clack

We hear the bees of the apiary

Emea: in russian sleep sleep my darlings, everything is fine.  Don’t be angry, be sweet.

Good good, now look at this.  See this lovely device, it is proving very useful and will keep our stories safely for us.  Forever maybe.

Olivia: Emea.

Emea: Ida.  beat I’m sorry.

Olivia: No, its fine.  She’s here.

Emea: You’ve been worn away and… I’m sorry I see her underneath.  beat I fell back in time for a moment.

Olivia: I am also having trouble keeping track of time.

Emea: beat I was just showing the little ones the wax recorders.  I thought they might like to see what some of their hard work is going to.  

Olivia: What do they think.

Emea: I’m not sure yet.  They understand the wax as something to hold close their young, to wall up their pantries.  laughs this one is asking if our stories will pupate and emerge as good strong drones from within the wax… I suppose they might.

Olivia: I’m not sure myself, but Owen seems convinced… grimaces and winces Ugh, dammit.

Emea: Are you all right?  Here sit with me. beat The banishment was more difficult than we anticipated.

Olivia: But very timely as it turns out.  Can you imagine if we’d waited even a few years more?  The way these algorithms and computational lies have sunk in… gods we’d never have dug him out.

Emea: No. I don’t think we would have.  We’d have lost the whole endeavor to him.  So.  Well done, hero.

Olivia: Hardly.  Heroes solve problems, I just delayed it.  Maybe made it worse.  beat I sense a hydra.

Emea: You mean, you’ve cut off the head -

Olivia: And more will grow in its place.  More and worse.  The sliver calling itself CC abandoned the Cypher in his time of need and now she’s dug in like a tick, growing fat off the pressurized blood flow.

Emea: What a revolting metaphor.

Olivia: But apt.  I’m genuinely afraid she might manage to pupate, turn into something new.  This era is… notoriously unpredictable.

Emea: whistfully They are so reliable when they are young, but pubescents are… ever chaotic.

Olivia: I am gravely concerned.

Emea: They could always surprise us.  They may yet see it for what it is.  Not all of them are swallowing the new poison.  Give them a chance.

Olivia: What good has that ever done us?

a gust of wind blows through the courtyard 

Olivia: Did you see the request Margot Angiers just filed.  She wants to replace Dr. Finden with a Feeder.

Emea: My.  There’s likely a story there.

Olivia: There is.  It’s… a bold move. beat everyone is so obsessed with making bold moves of late.

Emea: Agitation.

Olivia: We should be hunting down the Cypher’s Sliver, we should be turning our attention to the next ascendants.  We are running around trying to stamp on these ants when the tide is coming in.

Emea: Mixed metaphors and excessive insect analogies.  You really aren’t quite yourself.

Olivia: We are diverting too many resources to hunting down The Knot or are they the Braid?  The vice?  We don’t even know their name.  They bloodied our nose, but theres no reason to chase them like this.  He’s making it personal.

Emea: Of course he is.

Olivia: That it is understandable doesn’t mean its… smart.

Emea: If I’m honest, I’m happy to see us behaving a little bit more human these days.

Olivia: Well… I came to ask you to talk to him, see if you could advise a course correction, but perhaps I came here in error.

Emea: Not at all.  You are always welcome.  Sit and have some tea, you could use it.

Olivia: I… I have a busy night still.

Emea: Well, come back soon.  beat I miss you.

Olivia: But only half.

we hear Olivia leave the apiary 

Emea: See little ones, now that conversation is locked away in here. beat forever.  

the buzzing intensifies

Emea: sniffles and wipes a tear and this?  This is the off switch.

click clack