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Driftwood Chopsticks - Chapter 2

Chapter 2
I rose with the morning alarm, the blaring siren that goes off at 8:00 am. I hopped out of my bunk and strode into the shower before my roommates could hog it. I let the hot water cascade down me, cleansing me as much mentally as physically. I dressed in a freshly laundered uniform, a dark green boiler suit emblazoned with the bases logo, a trident with wings and the phrase “Sub fluctibus Salutis” which is more or less latin for, it is safe under the waves. After checking that I had all my things, I shouldered my bag, and headed for school with Riza, who had already unbuttoned the top two buttons on the uniform. We both agreed that trying to face the morning rush hour wasn’t worth it, so we took the more “express” route. An air vent near to our room had a broken lock so you could just climb in and follow the vents to your destination, it had taken us about a year's worth of free time to find the correct route. I was grateful for the padding on the knees and elbows that came with the uniforms as it made the journey much more bearable.
We emerged into one of the broom closets and seamlessly merged with the passing crowd, and then slipped into our classroom. A few of the other students were there, they sat chatting or unpacking their school belongings. Riza and I sat down at our desks, the numerous scratch marks caking the surface of mine. I placed my pen and paper on the desk and after a few more students trickled in, our teacher, Mr Strauss, entered, clutching a wad of paper. Without a word he sat at his desk and called out the register, present students saying “Yes sir” when their name was called. What followed was another boring, uneventful day of lessons, from pre-war history to foreign languages, such as english. That was until an unusual sight meandered past our window. An unidentified submarine had approached the base, it had no visible weapons and was tilted to one side due to the many strange marks of damage along its flanks. I could hear the footfalls of the guards rushing to the dock, and soon after they faded, a voice crackled over the PA system it said “Will Ollin Sakamoto please report to medical bay three gamma as soon as possible.” I wave of dread washed over me and I could tell that I had gone bright red. I threw my school stuff into my bag and rushed out of the classroom, giving a small “Thank you sir!” over my shoulder to mr Strauss. The hallways were empty now, very few people would have free time now as everyone had something to do. I flicked up my map and checked that I was headed in the right direction and nearly collided with one of the maintenance divers, his large suit should have given his presence away, but still I only just avoided him. I arrived at the medical bay and was pulled in, thrown into medical scrubs and thrust into the back of the operating machine.  I had less than I would have liked to collect myself before the voice of the head doctor spoke out “Ok, remember just like we practiced, imagine he is just another citizen if it helps!” He deadpan optimism made me worried and I didn’t understand what he meant until the cameras turned on. On the operating table lay a middle aged man, his unshaven face contorted in pain, and he was shouting incomprehensibly, well to me atleast. His skin was a different shade, not unlike the overseers and his mode of dress was far from normal. I thought back to my training and to what my father had taught me. First things first I had to reduce his pain, I selected the appropriate anesthetic and set the amount, 150mg should do, I maneuvered the mechanical arm to his chest, which the nurses were holding still and injected the anesthetic. Now his report came in, which told me his injuries were from an unknown cause but were treatable, one large gash on his left leg, broken arm, dislocated shoulder and a solid concussion for good measure. Now I had to stop him bleeding so I focused on the hole in his leg, Using a small laser I cut open his clothes and brought the wound to light. It was a nasty cut, very messy and it was going to need a lot of stitches. I washed it with some alcohol solution before investigating as to if there was any foreign elements in the wound, luckily there wasn’t as I didn’t hope for his chances if there was. Using the thread for the finer inner tissue and staples for the outer skin I sealed the gash and sprayed the area with a coagulant to help stop the bleeding. After switching to the graspers, I approached the broken arm. Using ultrasound I could see how out of place the bone was, I could already tell that he would not be pitching fastballs again. He was going to need a bar, so I used the laser to cleanly open the flesh on his arm to get to the bone, I always hated doing this as it’s causing more damage to the patient. Using the graspers I moved the bone into the right - enough place and followed it in with a metal rod. Once I had secured it in place with studs and ties, I closed the arm up again, just as I had with his leg. I wrote cast on his arm next to where I had opened him up. It was always difficult to fix dislocations with the machines but it wasn’t impossible. Using the restraint clamps I held his torso in position while I used the arms of the machine to force his joint into place, and with an uncomfortable “pop” it was back in place. And with that, I had finished, I pulled the machine back and let the nurses cover his wounds. Only after letting go of the controls did I notice how sweaty i’d made them. Stepping out of the operating machine I was greeted with a round of applause, the senior medical staff were all there, some wearing scrubs as well, one had blood on her gloves. The blood rushed to my cheeks and I timidly asked “What’s this for?”
The head doctor laughed and said, “You just saved that man, even though you were still in training”
Another doctor smiled “Saving lives at fourteen!” he said, shaking his head
I looked at my shoes and simply said “Just doing my job!” and after hesitating, “What do you mean was in training? Shouldn’t I still have lots left to do?”
The head doctor smiled and put a hand on my shoulder “Don’t you see? This was your final test! Operator Sakamoto”
The smile that came to my face would be the envy of the cheshire cat, I wiped my forehead and left the medical bay. On my way out I noticed half a dozen other men who had also been treated, though all had lesser injuries than the one I operated on. All of them were dressed in the same uniform, a strange pattern of blue and white squares covered all they wore, spare a single flag on their shoulders. It bore the stars and stripes.

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