Dying to be Cured – VI

Dying to be Cured is set in a modern-day Britain where the Roman Empire still rules. Dai and Julia take on a fight against institutional corruption whilst dealing with the demands of family, friendship and domestic crises.

Stopping the chair she opened the door, expecting some sort of chapel or monastic cell. Only to find what appeared to be a private room in a hospital. She didn’t like the look of it at all, but there was nothing to be done except push Gwen into the room. Once inside, she placed a warning finger on her friend’s earlobe before tenderly helping her up onto a high, narrow bed, with cot sides. As she leaned over to lift the side she placed her lips close to Gwen’s ear. 

“Bugged,” she breathed, “and a two-way mirror if I am not very much mistaken.”

Gwen squeezed her hand.

The door opened to admit a skinny young man in the garb more of a hospital orderly than a priest. He was pushing a rattling trolley. 

“Herbal tea for,” he checked a clipboard hanging on the trolley, “Gwendolyn Tyrweth.” He selected a cup and flashed a toothy smile. When Julia leaned forward to take the infusion, he whispered in her ear. “It’s just a mild sedative. Your meal ticket is perfectly safe.”

Julia forced a grin and took the cup from his hand.

Being very careful not to depart from her role as nurse-companion, Julia placed an arm under Gwen’s shoulders assisting her to sit upright whilst proffering the cup. 

Gwen lifted the cup to her lips and her nose twitched slightly. “Strong sedative by the smell,” she murmured. 

“Only drink a little then,” Julia answered her under the cover of reorganising the pillows. She wasn’t prepared to have Gwen completely comatose if she could help it.

Gwen sipped and Julia thought furiously, before deciding simple was best. She took the cup from Gwen’s fingers and carried it over to the wash basin directly under the mirror, where she poured the rest of the drink down the drain. All the time she kept up the sort of gentle monologue she imagined a real nurse might use to soothe a fretful patient. Going back to the bed she plumped the pillows and smoothed the coverlet. Even having only taken a very small proportion of the dose, Gwen seemed very sleepy and Julia wondered at the strength of the full cup. Gwen’s mouth was moving and she leaned in to listen. 

“I’m not nearly so drowsy as I’m making out. Don’t worry.”

Julia placed her cool hand on Gwen’s forehead and watched as her friend’s breath grew slow and even. 

Their next visitor was a smart looking man in the white priestly robe of a novice who smiled reassuringly.

“I am going to pray for your lady, to purify her spirit before she is taken to the Inner Sanctuary where the Pontifex will lay hands on her and perform a full healing service. It can take some time, so we always let our visitors sleep through it. Then, if they are blessed, they may awaken feeling better. Meanwhile, you’ll need to answer a few questions. Sorry about that. We do have to make sure who we are dealing with.” 

Julia showed him her puzzled face, so he continued. “We have had a few irreligious folk trying to ‘debunk’ us and make out we are not healing people. There are always doubters, but we don’t need them here.”

Julia lifted a shoulder. “Fair enough, but watch her carefully please. She actually does have heart trouble.”

“So noted. She will be quite safe here, I promise you. And can you take that antiquated wheelchair with you? These rooms are so small it gets in the way. Why doesn’t she have a nice new lightweight?”

“And miss all the fun of me sweating and cursing as I maneuver this one?”

The male novice grinned.

“If you carry on to the end of the corridor there’s a sitting room where you can wait. The subadiuva will be along in a moment to ask you those questions.  But you won’t be disturbed after that as you are the only nurse with this lot. There are a couple family members, but they won’t be joining you they wanted to go back to their cupona as soon as they’ve settled their loved ones in.”

“I might just catch a nap then,” Julia managed a grin as she wrestled the chair out of the room. 

The door at the end of the corridor was marked ‘Visiting Carers’ and it opened into a bright, airy room whose big window looked out onto a pleasant garden. There was a door beside the window, and when Julia tried the handle she found it gave access to a sunny patio. She shoved the wheelchair out there and sat down in its cushioned  depths to consider her options. What was going on? Why such a powerful sedative for Gwen? What would other supplicants be getting into? It was beginning to look as if there was considerably more than prayer and blessing going on. And she didn’t like it a bit. 

A genteel cough from behind had her turning a scowling face to a mouselike woman with a palmtop in her hand.

“I’m sorry to disturb you Nurse…..”

“Just nurse. If I had another name I’ve forgotten it. And who are you?”

“Adria Plautia Tacita, subadiuva to the Pontifex. I’d just like to check a few facts about yourself and your employer.”

“Check away then.”

The process took some twenty minutes, and as far as Julia could see its only purpose was to make sure she really did have some medical knowledge. Fortunately, she had enough to support her role as as a carer and the subadiuva seemed satisfied. Once the interrogation was over, Tacita scuttled away and Julia whisked the handles off the wheelchair, shoving the components of the two guns in her capacious pockets and reassembling the chair. She then went in search of the privacy of the visitors restroom, before anyone else could turn up and hinder her.

Dying to be Cured by Jane Jago and E.M. Swift-Hook first appeared in Gods of Clay: A Sci Fi Roundtable Anthology.