HISTORY, n. An account mostly false, of events mostly unimportant, which are brought about by rulers mostly knaves, and soldiers mostly fools.
--Ambrose Bierce
Batou had a lot of time to think on the long drive up to New Tokyo. Too much time. Maybe I should have driven up with Togusa, so it wouldn't be so damn quiet in this car. Obviously he could have sent a com to someone, but even though it didn't use any resources, you still just didn't send people coms to chat. At least, nobody in Section 9 did.
I wonder what Motoko's doing right now? He frowned. Of course, there was no point in worrying about her -- there wasn't anything particularly dangerous about this case, and she seemed practically indestructible, most of the time. But the endless miles of freeway stretched on. There wasn't even much traffic, since not as many people went to New Tokyo since the bombing. At least it's better than taking a train.
He pulled up some files for the case, and turned on some music, and ran a few diagnostic programs, and cleaned out some old files. He did a little digging online to find out where Professor Ogawa had been hospitalized. He thought about maybe reading a book or something (with a military-grade cyberbrain, there were enough CPU cycles to drive and read at the same time, with plenty to spare), but then the sprawling vista of New Tokyo came into view. Skyscrapers poked out of the ocean like dolphin skeletons begging for fish, and the city from this distance looked like a zombie's flesh -- some parts had rotted away to nothing, revealing the maggoty skeleton underneath, while others were disturbingly untouched.
He had to drive around for a while before he found a flower shop near New Tokyo University Hospital, where Professor Ogawa had been taken. I definitely should have come with Togusa; he's probably 2 blocks away at the University right now. In fact, I think I just passed his car. He trusted that the salesperson at the shop knew what flowers were appropriate -- the bright colors looked all right, and they didn't smell bad according to his smell synthesizer, so he supposed they would work.
He tried not to think about flowers too much. The only times he had ever bought flowers was for people who were dying or already dead. At least Togusa hadn't died from that gunshot wound, though it had been pretty close. Must be because Batou had brought him some magazines instead of flowers.
When he entered the hospital, a petite, flawless-looking android sat at the receptionist's desk and welcomed him politely.
"I'm here to see Ogawa," he explained, gesturing with the flowers. She frowned a little, eyes distant, and shook her head.
"I'm sorry, but I can't give out his room number without authorization from him or his family."
"Is that so?," he asked, stalling for time as he pulled up the hospital database once more on a virtual terminal, searching it for the room number. "Well, you won't mind if I just head up to room 315, then, right?" She paused for a moment, processing, and then answered.
"Of course not, sir. The elevator is to your left." The receptionist gestured mechanically to the left and then returned to her computer console, fingers flying as she transferred some data from a sheet of paper.
When he arrived at the room, he verified Ogawa's name in the file next to the door, and then he knocked quietly. When there was no response, he entered. Professor Ogawa lay motionless, with an IV and several machines monitoring his vital signs. He didn't seem to have any injuries, and a peek at the clipboard on the foot of his bed told Batou that he hadn't woken up since he arrived at the hospital. There was a record of vital signs readings and patient information, but no diagnosis.
Batou looked around for a place to put the flowers. Shouldn't there be a vase or something to put these in?. Just then, a stout middle-aged nurse entered the room, and started upon seeing an unfamiliar person in the room.
"Oh!," she exclaimed, looking him over suspiciously, "Are you . . . a family member of Mr. Ogawa?"
"Nah, just a friend. He was my professor a long time ago, and I wanted to thank him. Had a pretty hard time tracking him here, though." Batou tried to seem friendly, though it was difficult with the nurse's piercing glare.
"Oh, a friend . . . " She sniffed a little disapprovingly, and sidestepped over to the machines where she examined the readouts and wrote down a few notes on the clipboard.
"So . . . is he taking a nap or something? Should I come back later?" he asked carefully, looking at Ogawa's peaceful face.
"You didn't know? The patient is in a coma . . . when we got here, his paperwork was missing, so Doctor Fujii is running some tests to try and find out what's wrong with him."
"A coma! That's serious, isn't it . . . "
"Yes, it is. And not only is he in a coma, but his four research assistants are, too." She looked down at the patient with mild disdain. "I suppose professors don't take as good of care of their students as they used to."
"Huh," he muttered noncommittally, and paused. The nurse went back to her clipboard. "Did you say you just recently started working here?" She sighed at being interrupted again, but answered anyway.
"Well, we all just got transferred in a few days ago, right after this patient arrived, actually. I think the previous staff must have been terribly incompetent, if they didn't even have paperwork for half the patients in this hall! But at least Doctor Fujii came with us," she added, brightening. "Now there is a doctor whom you can trust completely. Why, I've worked with a lot of doctors in my day, and none of them could dream of approaching the incredible skill and expertise of Doctor Fujii! You wouldn't believe some of the people calling themselves 'doctors' today! But, at least you can be reassured that your friend is now receiving the absolute best care possible from Doctor Fujii."
"Yes, he seems wonderful," he said dryly. Tossing the flowers on the table, he stood up and began to leave. "Thanks for your help."
"Sir!," she called after him, "Would you like a vase for the flowers?"
"Do what you want with them," he spoke over his shoulder, and then muttered, "Maybe you should give them to Doctor Fujii."
I'm not going to find anything else here. But maybe I can track down who the previous doctor was, see if they had a diagnosis or some paperwork or something. As he headed back to his car, he pulled up his virtual terminal again and ran a search on the hospital's personnel list. If they recently got transferred, they might still be in the system somewhere . . . The personnel roster combined with the shift schedule told him that a Doctor Kobayashi was on duty the day Ogawa was brought in. Closer examination of Kobayashi's record revealed that she had been transferred to an SDF hospital in Takamatsu. Upon checking some of the nurses and other personnel on duty at the time, it appeared they were just transferred to the same hospital, too.
It's pretty suspicious, an entire department transferred, especially to an SDF hospital . . . it's not like it's wartime or anything. And why someplace as out of the way as Takamatsu? That base is so small it's surprising it even has a hospital. Pulling up the personnel records of the Takamatsu base, he searched for a Doctor Kobayashi . . . but there was none listed. Undaunted, he instead attempted to access the security system's user listing. I hope these passwords are still good . . . if not, I guess I'll have to do a dive. The suspense was short-lived as usernames quickly scrolled across the screen. One caught his eye -- kobayashiki. Must be last name, first syllable of first name, he thought, asking the system for more info on kobayashiki. The last login was at a terminal in Building 257, room 508. Pulling up the floor plans for Building 257, he found two com port addresses in room 508. He tried the first; there was no response, but on the second someone answered.
"I'm sorry, but Doctor Kobayashi cannot currently accept incoming coms. Please try again at a later time." An android answering her com, huh? If Doctor Kobayashi is this hard to get a hold of, she must know something good. He slid into the driver's seat of his car and paused, thinking, generating options and discarding them, until there was really only one feasible course of action. I guess I'll have to do this the hard way and find Doctor Kobayashi in person. He exhaled with minor irritation. First I have to drive all the way up to New Tokyo, and now it's down to Takamatsu . . . what a waste of time. I don't think it's worth commandeering the tilt-rotor for this, though, so I guess I have no choice. He opened up a comlink to Section 9 as he started the car.
"Major, seems like somebody didn't like the work the previous doctor was doing here -- the whole section got trasferred to the SDF hospital in Takamatsu. The doctor's not available by com, and Ogawa's files are missing -- so I'm guessing she knows something good. I'm heading down there to see what I can find out."
"Going for another joyride, huh? You'll be just in time for the bullfights in Uwajima." He gritted his teeth.
"Yeah . . I'll send you a postcard . . . Batou out." He thought he might have heard her laugh, but it could have been his imagination. He shook his head.
"Tachikoma! Meet me at these coordinates; we're going for a ride."