Medical Ethics

Once again Kurri and Filla pass through the gate to the temple of Thea. The ivy on the wooden arch did not recover from the wizard’s spell the other day. It lingers, dry and lifeless. The garden beyond is much the same, a remnant of itself.

A small crowd gathers in the graveyard behind the building. It looks like just a few families, four adults and four children. Nisho stands before them, a burning torch in one hand and a chalice in the other. A censer in front of him burns with sweet-smelling incense. It casts a veil of smoke between the priest-apprentice and the gathering. To his side is a hole in the ground, and next to it a shovel stands, stuck in freshly dug soil.

The medics and Kalen and Annia stop at the gate as Nisho addresses the crowd.

“Arkon was the first of the guardians, children of the elder gods, Thea and Kyrion.” He holds the torch up above his head. “His fire bound together the cosmic dust into this solid ground we stand on. It was stagnant and lifeless in those days, a hot and desolate place. Then...” He holds both arms out to his sides, keeping the torch and the chalice upright. “the guardian Zuul brought to this world the winds, and the world was alive with its own breath, and the age of storms began.” He holds the chalice above his head. “The guardian Jara brought with her the rain, and for eons it poured down on this world, filling the vast oceans. Then finally the age of storms came to an end, and Zenaran was at rest once again.”

He lowers the chalice again. “Chi was the fourth of the guardians. She brought with her the breath of life. And using the volatile forces and the inert soil before her, she created life. A human body is like all other life, a piece of this world, crafted from the same components as the mountains and the river and the trees. From Zenaran we come, and back into it we return.

“Old Zeris lived as part of that great, endless cycle. Now we bid him farewell. His soul has departed us, collected by the scythe of Shii. We now return his body to Zenaran. Zeris has felt his last breeze of fresh air. We grant him his last touch of water.” Nisho stands over the pit and gently pours the water in the chalice across it.

Still holding the chalice upright, he turns back to the family. “With his last drops of water, we extinguish the fire, carried over from the last candle burning at the moment of his death. In doing so, we sever any connections still binding his soul to this world, and allow him to depart, on to his next lifetime.” He holds the chalice up to the flame. “Zeris, we bid you farewell.” With the last of the water in the cup, he extinguishes the torch.

He and the onlooking family stands in silence. Only the gentle wind through the trees of the mountainside and the birds that still perch on their limbs make a sound. After a moment of silence, he picks up the shovel from the pile of dirt.

“Remember Zeris, keep him in your heart. Take today to rest and think back on his life and all your times together,” Nisho says.

One of the women and one of the men are wiping the tears from each other’s eyes.

“Ordinarily, I would offer you the tranquility of the temple sanctuary. I understand however if being in the place your father died would not bring you peace. You are welcome to reflect in the temple garden, though I apologize...for the state of it,” Nisho says.

He begins filling in the grave. Kalen opens the gate and walks across the graveyard. She picks up a shovel and starts to fill in the grave. Kurri stays with the others, some Length out of the way.

“Oh, Kalen. Haven’t seen you in a while,” Nisho says, pausing his work to wipe sweat from his forehead.

“I don’t get down from that mountain enough,” Kalen says.

“I appreciate the help, but dealing with the dead is the work of clergy,” Nisho says.

“Former clergy accepted?” Kalen says.

“Oh, you?” Nisho says.

“I was once a temple apprentice like you,” she says.

“How interesting. You Koronovas really come from all walks,” Nisho says.

“Priests are supposed to be like that too,” Kalen says.

“Unfortunately it’s been a long time since that was the case,” Nisho says. “We’re becoming hopelessly cut off from the lives of real people. Coming out here makes that obvious.”

Kalen piles more soil into the hole, and Nisho adds more on top of that.

“A beautiful rite you conducted,” Kalen says.

“Thanks,” he says.

“In Suisho, we burned the dead to scatter their elements back into the world,” she says.

“The ancient Thean way,” he says. “I’ve been doing it a little different. My people, the Kogai, would bury our dead near the place they died. We would mark the spot with a stone, and when we missed that person, we could find the site and visit them, remember our times together. I thought it’d be good for the people of this town if they had a tranquil place they could come to visit their departed family. They have much death in this place, after all. Nontraditional, I know.”

“Traditions are not everything,” Kalen says.

“Of course a Koronova would say so,” he says.

“I think it’s a lovely practice. Your people’s ways are no less important than the temple’s,” she says.

As the two of them fill in the grave, the family wanders around the temple grounds. The children come up to investigate the newcomers. There are four of them, they look like two boys and two girls, with white skin. Three of them have brown eyes and dark brown hair, but the youngest girl has blonde hair and light blue eyes. She looks up at Filla.

“Are you here to say bye to pappaw too?” the child says.

“I didn’t know him, I’m afraid,” Filla says. “What was he like?”

“He was strong,” one of the older boys says. “He told us about how he used to hunt and fish. He told all kinds of stories.”

“He sounds like a great man,” Filla says.

“Who are y’all? I ain’t seen you before,” the other boy says.

“My name’s Filla, I’m a medic, I heal people. My friend does too.”

“I’m Kurri, hello.”

Annia sits down on the stone wall nearby. It signs to them, “Hello, my name is A-N-N-I-A, Annia” it gives the spelling and its unique name sign, lightning turning into hammer.

The girl with the blue eyes looks excited. She signs back, in rough motions, “Hello! My name is...I-r-i-s-a.” She slowly spells out the letters. “I am learning sign in school.” She points across the valley to the schoolhouse.

Annia flaps its hands in excitement. “That’s great!” it signs. “Keep practicing!”

“Are you a healer too?” the other girl says.

“Fool, she can’t hear you you know!” one of the boys says.

“I can hear just fine,” Annia signs. “And I’d rather you call me I-T.”

“If you can hear then why don’t you talk to us?” he says.

“I am talking,” it signs.

Irisa punches him in the arm.

“Hey!” he says.

“Be nice!” she says.

Annia laughs. “I’m not a healer,” it signs, “I’m an engineer.”

The children seem confused about the sign.

“I fix things,” Annia signs. “I make things.”

“What do you make?” Irisa signs slowly.

Annia reaches into one of the pockets of its grey mechanic’s suit. It pulls out a small wooden rod with a metal spinning top built into one end, made up of three segments, with a number of metal bearings at the center of the wheel. It holds it out in front of them and hits one of its arms with its finger, it spins very smoothly. They look amazed.

She hands it to Irisa. “Here, enjoy,” it signs.

“Wow!” Irisa says. She makes it spin again and watches it.

“Annia makes the best stuff,” Filla says.

Kurri, feeling overwhelmed, walks away further into the graveyard, past rows of round stones engraved with family names. It looks like it must have taken generations to fill this soil with so many graves, but town has only existed ten years. The thought sends chills through his body.

He walks along the cliffside in the back of the temple grounds. He looks up the sheer cliff he rode down the other day and shudders. He looks the other way, out over the quiet town. Most people must be at work in the refinery, up high on the mountain across from them. Black smoke pours out from the two towering chimneys in that labyrinth of metal and concrete. Distant sounds of machinery echo through the valley.

He comes back around to where Nisho and Kalen are finishing up the grave, patting down the soft soil with the flats of their shovels.

“Thanks, Kalen, went much faster with two,” Nisho says. “But I suppose y’all came to town for a reason as usual.”

“You suppose right. We’ve come to tell you we’re going to help you with your request, get you up White Ash Mountain,” Kalen says.

“Oh! That’s great!” he says.

“Yes. We can leave tomorrow, we seem to have business of our own there soon,” she says.

“Oh, so soon, I’ll have to make some preparations. Come on, let’s go inside,” Nisho sets his shovel down. “Hey, Kurri, Filla!”

“Yes! I’m Filla, you got it right!” she says.

“Let’s go see to the patients,” Nisho says.

“On my way!” Filla says.

Kurri follows them toward the temple. Only Annia stays behind.

“Can I ask one of you medics to watch over the clinic for me while I’m gone?” Nisho says.

“I don’t think we can,” Filla says. “It’s a complicated operation we’re doing, and we’ll need all of us, it seems.”

“That’s okay, I think I know who can,” he says as they ascend the temple steps.

Tollin comes to greet them when they enter. “Nish, welcome back. Hey, Kurri, Filla.”

Nisho walks into Tollin’s open arms and embraces him tight. The apprentice looks so small in the worker’s arms. Nisho looks into his eyes and runs his hand down the back of his head, across his thick, short curly hair. “Great news, dear, I’m going to visit the holy site at last.”

“Wow! You’re going to be a priest!” Tollin says. “How exciting!”

“I’m leaving tomorrow. I know it’s sudden, but can you look after the clinic for a few days?”

“I am willing, Nish, but, I’m not really trained for this, you know...”

“You’re probably best qualified in Korben, after all I’ve taught you to take care of Kaz,” Nisho says. “Just, stay here and do that for everyone. I’ll give you more training tonight before I leave, don’t worry.”

“Okay, Nish, I’ll look after them all,” Tollin says.

“I also want someone trusted here,” he says. “Workers will be coming by for their food donations from the temple, you know?”

“Of course, I can handle that too,” Tollin says. “You don’t worry your pretty little head about the temple, I’ll protect it with my life.”

“Oh, I love you, Tollin,” Nisho says, pulling his head down toward his and kissing him.

“I love you too Nish. You be careful tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ve got the best companions any apprentice could hope for,” Nisho says.

The doors suddenly open and slam shut, and Annia rushes into the sanctuary. It signs, “Sentinels coming.”

“Coming here?” Nisho says.

It nods, its fingers waving frantically.

“Well fuck,” Filla says.

Kurri feels the chill of fear wash over him.

“Okay, all you terrorists, hide in the inner sanctum. It’s the only place I can legally forbid them to enter,” Nisho says.

“I want to stay with Kaz,” Tollin says.

“That’s fine. But leave the sents to me,” he says.

Kurri goes with the others past the heavy oak doors to the inner sanctum. Nisho slams them shut. They hear the turning of a lock.

It is dim inside, but a few candles flicker here. There is always a light burning in the inner sanctum. Kurri nearly trips and falls when he sees what lies within. Half of the floor of the holiest sanctuary of Thea is stacked with rifles and bombs.

“So that’s where he stored them,” Filla says.

“Quiet!” Annia signs.

“Sorry,” Filla signs.

Kurri looks at the weapon pile and looks to Kalen. She also looks somewhat concerned as she looks back at him with her amber eyes.

“Desperate times, Kurri,” Kalen signs. “Priests have committed much worse breaches of decorum when it comes to defending their community. Read about the fugitive Thean priests in the time of ancient Atheran sometime. Then a little thing like this won’t worry you too much.”

He looks away, back toward the doors. They’re so thick, he can hear no sound from the sanctuary. This is ideal when priests are conducting deep meditative rites, but it cuts them off from what is happening outside.

“Makes sense he’d want to lock the doors,” Filla signs. “But if anything happens to him now, we’re gonna be pretty trapped ain’t we?”

“Trapped?” Annia picks up a shotgun from the floor. “We are fine,” it signs.

“Still, we should prepare for the worst,” Kalen signs. “Let’s stay armed, Annia. If the sentinels want to break down this door, they won’t know what hit them.” She takes her rifle from her back and keeps it at the ready.

Annia nods and takes its crossbow from its back. Filla steps behind them, staying low to the floor.

Kurri feels the grip of the pistol at his side. He grasps it in his hand. Images flood his mind as he feels its smooth wood. He imagines the sents bursting through the door--he draws his weapon on them--he has a man’s head in his sights--he feels the cold metal of the trigger against his finger. His whole body shudders at the thought and he pulls his hand away from the gun.

He just stands back with Filla, behind their comrades. He looks over at her. She looks back at him, looking a little concerned. And they wait. The candlelight flickers on the white walls. The room is so silent they can only hear their breathing. He doesn’t know how much time is passing, it feels like a long time.

Finally, a knock comes at the door. “It’s me!” Nisho’s muffled voice says.

Kalen and Annia glance at each other. They keep their weapons raised. Once Nisho opens the door they lower them, seeing he is alone. Kurri takes a deep breath.

“You can come out, but you’ll want to keep your voices down,” Nisho says.

Nisho opens the doors wide to let the four out. Annia and Kalen return their weapons to their backs.

“What did they want?” Annia signs.

“Come and see,” he signs.

Nisho leads them across the room to one of the curtained patient quarters. He hesitates as he takes hold of the fabric. Annia and Kalen poke their heads in as he pulls the curtain aside. Annia jumps back a step, its hands over its face, looking away. Kalen carefully takes a few steps back, a hand reaching back to touch her rifle.

As Nisho steps inside, Kurri follows to take a look. Two patients rest in this chamber, adult men with pale skin. Their eyes are closed and they don’t respond to Nisho walking in. Next to their beds are long white coats folded up on the floor, with black helmets resting on top, and gleaming next to one helmet is the silver badge of the Imperial Sentinel Corps.

Filla follows him in, stepping very quietly. Nisho looks back at them and signs, “I gave them a tea to help them sleep very deeply, I can’t have them seeing any of you here.” He pulls back the blanket over one of them. His pale white skin is covered in a web of faint black veins.

Kurri feels a pull on his sleeve. He looks back and Filla is gesturing for him to follow her. Outside the curtain, Annia signs for them to follow as it and Kalen step outside onto the porch.

Outside, Kalen takes a deep breath in and out. “This could complicate things,” she says.

“You think?!” Annia signs.

Nisho steps outside with them. “The sents came and brought them to me. During the riot they were thrown into the blackwater and they drank quite a lot of it, it seems. They rapidly started showing blight symptoms.”

“Why bring them here?” Filla says. “They could get better care if they shipped them off back to the city.”

“That’s what they intend to do, but they wanted to leave them in my clinic for a few days until travel can be arranged, they said,” Nisho says.

“Why here?” Annia signs. “Their outpost is closer to Halrin, there’s a bigger clinic there, right?”

“Right,” Nisho says. “Yet they came all the way here.”

“I do not trust it,” Annia signs.

“What do you think, Nisho, did they seem suspicious to you?” Kalen says.

“Other than being sents, no,” Nisho says. “They had the seeming of genuine concern. And they’re definitely authentic blight cases.”

“Did you recognize the sents that brought them here?” Kalen says.

“No. But I doubt I’d recognize any other sents either.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them to use their own sick as spies,” Annia signs.

“Whether they are or not, I had no choice but to accept them,” Nisho says. “Remember, to them I have to be the good little apprentice, there’s no reasonable pretense for me to turn a patient away for being a sent.”

“You’re right, you did what you had to,” Kalen says. “What matters now is how we handle it from here. And that is a matter for the clinic to decide.”

“I don’t think Korben would shed a tear at the funeral of two sents,” Annia signs.

“They wouldn’t,” Nisho says. “But they are early cases, they won’t likely die here before they get taken to a proper hospital.”

“I would go ahead and drive a stake through their hearts to make sure of it,” Annia signs.

“I cannot allow you to murder my patients!” Nisho says.

“He’s right, that would be extremely suspicious, don’t you think?” Kalen says.

“Of course, we can’t just walk up and murder them. But, if they were to succumb to the blight faster than expected--” Annia signs.

“No! I won’t have you suggesting anything of the sort!” Nisho says, signing firmly the word “No.” He takes a breath and composes himself. “This clinic isn’t operated by the K.R.A., and just because I am supporting you here does not mean I am a charlatan in these robes, I have sworn to the Goddess to protect life and heal the sick. I would not walk into your basecamp and demand that you abandon everything you stand for. Would your own medics even condone what you are suggesting?”

“It does sound very unethical,” Filla says. “But I don’t know, if they survive, one of us will eventually kill them anyway. Does it matter when?”

“I’m not comfortable to even think about intentionally letting a patient die like that,” Kurri says. “Maybe there’s a difference between taking a life on the battlefield and taking one in a clinic where you’re entrusted to heal them.”

“If they are spies, letting them live could result in much more death than just their own,” Filla says.

“You’re the one who told me we are healers and not killers, Filla, that it’s against our nature,” Kurri says.

“Yeah. I did.” Filla sighs heavily. “Even if they deserve it, I don’t know if I could see myself letting helpless people die like this. And it would just be cowardly to ask Nisho to do it for us.”

“Besides, ethics aside, I would have to weigh the consequences of letting them live against those of letting them die suspiciously and putting the entire clinic at risk,” Nisho says.

“So their intentional death is not an option here,” Kalen says. “How can we best protect ourselves from the possibility of them reporting back to the enemy?”

“The same way we always would in untrustworthy company, we keep our mouths shut,” Annia signs.

“Exactly,” Kalen says.

“Yes. While they are here it won’t be safe for you two to help me out in the clinic, unfortunately,” Nisho says. “But if we are leaving for White Ash tomorrow, it shouldn’t make any difference.”

“What about the weapons?” Kalen says.

He lowers his voice. “I won’t allow the sents into the inner sanctum, of course, they are not clergy. I’ll have the key with me so they will have to break the door down to enter, and the Temple hierarchy and the Department of Faith would not be happy with the Sentinel Corps for that,” Nisho says.

“You’re letting a lot depend on the sents’ unwillingness to violate holy law. I hope you’re right,” Kalen says. “I will have to trust in the Goddess that you are. It’s out of our hands.”

“Fine,” Annia signs. “We shouldn’t linger here in the enemy’s presence. We will meet you here early tomorrow morning.”