Ви Корс - The Mist and the Lightning. Part 17

“Doctor Cartmer,” he grinned.

“For help?”

“My name is Vitor Kors, and this is my son, and I want you to give us medicine for him.”

“He is ill?”

“Yes.”

“What is with him?”

“He has…” Kors was a little delayed with the answer, remembering the name on the red, “hepatitis. And we need the drugs of the Upper. The best.”

“Hmm, and what kind of hepatitis does he have, what form?”

“What do you mean, the form?”

“Hepatitis is different.”

“Really?”

“You don’t know what kind of hepatitis he has and ask for medicine, not really knowing anything about his illness?”

“Listen, Cartmer, it's your job to know about diseases, I'm not a doctor.”

And the doctor smiled condescendingly:

“I have noticed. Well, we need to find out first what happened to him. Establish a diagnosis and then seek medication. It’s strange that you don’t know his diagnosis. Maybe he doesn't have hepatitis at all, but something else? You would first figure it out…”

Kors suddenly abruptly drew his sword from its scabbard, forcing Nikto and the doctor to recoil from him in different directions, but he simply thrust the hilt into the doctor’s hands:

“Hold and make me an eight, show me a banal eight, well? Why don't you do it?”

The doctor turned pale:

“But… but. I'm not a warrior!”

“I'm not a doctor, damn it!” Shouted Kors. “And I don't have to know all the forms of your fucking hepatitis! You are too proud of your knowledge and medical subtleties here! You look at us with superiority! You see, he knows all forms of hepatitis, but we don’t! Let me now make you fight my son and see how you know all the intricacies of swordsmanship! What, you don’t know anything? So why the hell am I supposed to know your job?”

Cartmer was dumbfounded, and he carefully held out his sword to Kors.

“Take it, please. I am sorry if I was wrong.”

Kors made an arrogant and displeased face and took the sword from the doctor:

“That's it.”

He looked around the room. In Cartmer’s large and bright cabinet, in tall glass cases, there were many hermetically sealed containers, in which all kinds of human organs, embryos and babies with anomalies and other wonders were kept.

Kors looked sideways at the can from which, it seemed, a human eyeball was also staring at him:

“What the shit?”

“This is a unique collection of human organs, healthy and damaged by diseases. I have been collecting it for many years,” the doctor answered, not without pride.

Kors looked skeptically at the life-size skeleton in the corner.

“Oh well…”

His attention was drawn to medical devices located near a tall window, half-sealed with thin white paper.

“Is it a weighing machine?”

“Yes.”

Kors nodded at Nik.

“Weigh him.”

“Weigh?”

“Vitor…”

“Shut up, Nik! I want to know how much he weighs. I think he is underweight, I want to know how much to take action. It is strange that this is not obvious to you and is surprising. I have already begun to doubt your professionalism.”

“Well, well. But then he needs to take off his clothes.”

“No, this is impossible. He won’t undress in front of you.”

“Not in front of me, I don’t need it, but in order for the scales to show the correct body weight.”

“Go weigh him! I will subtract the weight of the clothes, I understand this.”

The doctor just shook his head.

“Then let him at least unfasten his weapon.”

“Okay. Nik, take off your belt and unfasten your swords.”

Nikto obediently took off his weapons and stood on the scales. The doctor aligned the weights on the bar in front of him.

“Well, what is there?” Kors asked impatiently.

Cartmer gave him a number:

“Normal weight. For his height, this is a perfectly acceptable body weight.”

“But he’s thin!”

“He is thin, but not below the norm for his height.”

“You just don't understand anything!”

“Well, maybe a little below the norm, but not critical,” the doctor shrugged his shoulders. “Moreover, he is still young, and he is a warrior. You came from Crimson Rock, right?”

“Yes.”

“Where, as far as I know, you spent a long time in a tough siege. Hiking, battles. Such a life is not conducive to gaining body weight.”

“Are you deliberately misinforming me?”

“No.”

“He's got exhaustion!”

“I would not say that.”

“Everything is clear, you don’t understand anything.”

The doctor just shook his head, but didn't mind. He returned to the table and wrote down Nikto’s weight and height on a piece of paper. Nik, too, silently began to re-fasten his weapons.

Kors took off his boots, because they had a small heel, and stood up to the vertical ruler, put a bar on his head. Then he walked away, examining the figure. Seeing that he was literally a centimeter short of up to one hundred and ninety, he frowned in displeasure and annoyance:

“Heck!” He hit the bar. “It’s a wrong device!”

“Do you speak red?” Cartmer asked Nikto.

“Yes,” he nodded.

The doctor was looking at him very closely, and Nik grabbed the gloved hand onto his belt at his waist.

“Do you take stimulants like most black warriors?"”

“Yes.”

“Narcotic substances?”

“Y… Yes…”

“If you want me to treat you and find really effective and correct medicines, you must allow me to take a blood test from your vein.”

Nik recoiled involuntarily and took a step back towards the door.

“You are afraid?”

“No.”

“Don't you understand why this is needed?”

“I don't know, I think I understand.”

“Having studied the composition of your blood, I will understand what drugs you need.”

“I take prohibited d… drugs,” said Nikto.

And now Cartmer staggered back, but he quickly pulled himself together.

“Then the analysis is all the more necessary!”

Kors was looking at the alcoholized freaks with curiosity, carried away when he turned around and saw that Nik was sitting at the doctor’s table. The sleeve of his jacket was pulled up, the bracelet was unlaced, and the doctor bent over his hand, syringe in hand.

“Hey!” He shouted like a madman. “What are you doing?! You motherfucker! Nik!”

Nikto and Cartmer shied away from each other.

“I need to take his blood for analysis,” the doctor justified a little frightened, obviously not expecting such a reaction from Kors.

“Did you ask me for permission? Was I asked?”

“But… your son seems… quite capable of taking responsibility for himself.”

“I forbid touching him and taking his blood! This is unacceptable and out of the question! Have you even gone crazy deciding to do this manipulation with him?!”

“Manipulation? I just wanted to take a sample of his blood to find a treatment.”

“And from you, Nik, I can’t turn away even for a minute!” Kors shouted angrily at him in black. “They are touching you again!”

“Did I take his cock in mouth?” Nik snapped.

“Well… Nik,” Kors stretched his hands forward, towards him, slightly spreading his fingers, “be quiet… just be silent.”

“But how am I going to get him medicine?” The doctor intervened. “You yourself came to me for help!”

“Just give me the best medicines of the Upper!”

“But this is absurd!”

“What? Are you evading a direct order?”

“If you really want to help your son, understand the gravity of the situation. This is an extraordinary case! He will die! Then don’t bring him to me dying in your arms!”

“Give me the best medicines of the Upper!”

“Why do you interfere if you don’t understand anything in medicine?”

“Are you implying that I am an ignorant black and don’t understand anything?”

“Well, what is the best medicine to give you? If you don't know yourself? The best from what? From hepatitis? If you don't know what form he has? Give you the best sedatives? Or from indigestion?”

Kors froze for a second, trying to grasp the meaning, because the doctor spoke quickly in red, and Kors didn’t know languages perfectly and didn’t know the red language to such an extent that he could easily navigate in medical terms. He saw that Cartmer had fallen silent and was looking at him with a condescending grin.

“Are you kidding?” Said Kors, and in his voice skipped the steel notes that Nik knew very well, he tensed. But not the doctor, because he was not used to being afraid, and he didn’t catch the initial stage of aggression, since he had not encountered anything like this in his life.

“Although, against indigestion there are also different “best medicines”, depending on what you have, diarrhea or constipation…”

And Kors hit him.

“Vitor!” Nik shouted.

Kors turned to him.

“Get out!” He pushed Nik to the exit from the cabinet. “You really better wait outside the door now!”

And Kors pushed Nik out.

And then he turned to stunned Cartmer and reached out to his belt, on which an iron bar hung.

From the doctor's cabinet there was a deafening rumble and the sound of breaking glass, Nik closed his eyes as if he were in pain, and covered his ears with his palms.

Very pleased Kors, slightly flushed and with a blush on his cheeks, left Cartmer’s office and shoved several flat cardboard boxes to Nik, who was waiting for him:

“Here! Here you go!”

“What is it?”

“Medicines of the Upper from his safe. He wanted to hide them from us! You were right, he doesn't give us anything.”

“I… I'm not sure…”

“I started to play for time here. I just had to demand right away, I myself, with my intelligence and tact, adjusted it here. I am always too loyal to people! And these nonentities understand only power!”

“Vitor…”

“Shut up! You should be punished for your stupid behavior,” and Vitor Kors tightly squeezed his hair on the back of his head, forcing him to throw his face up, raised his hand over him, clenched into a fist. Nikto closed his eyes, but didn’t make a single attempt to somehow evade and free himself from Kors, to make him stop pulling his hair, to dodge his raised fist. Expecting a blow, he got a little tense.

Kors smiled with satisfaction and dropped his hand, which was raised above Nik’s face:

“But I love you too much and make allowances for your unreasonableness, although this is wrong,” he bent over him, still holding on to his hair:

“Next time, if you are foolish, I will punish you.”

“But…”

“Be silent! And don’t contradict me! Yes, we just had to come and destroy everything for this Cartmer. And pick up the drugs without all this talk and lyrics.”

“Lyrics?”

“And I spoke to him so politely. Well, now he understands who he is dealing with, and that we are not ignorant savages who are easily deceived! I can't be fooled!”

Kors impetuously embraced Nikto:

“I won't give you offense! Don't worry, my dear, what's that face? I've already forgiven you. Everything is good! It's already over, take it easy. We have the medicines,” he smiled triumphantly. “He would never have given them to us, he would have fooled us, hiding behind pseudoscience. And now we have them!”

And Nikto smiled at him forcibly.

“Yes, I have taught him a lesson. He will remember it forever that he shouldn't behave like that with blacks. I know those clever people who, using their position, try to mislead others. This number will not work with me! Now we will return to our place, I will give you an injection, and you will feel better.”