The knock was answered by a frowning woman, brown skin like old leather, spare of build and with straight white hair where Suze was stout and frizzy, but of a like age, Miles judged, and without the alcohol fumes. Her face lightened when she saw Jin.
“Ah, you’re found, Jin! And who have your creatures savaged now, and can it wait?”
“No one, Tanaka-san. But it’s kind of urgent. Suze-san sent us over.”
Miles let Jin run through his introductions, at which the boy was becoming nicely practiced. He picked up: “We’ve made arrangements with Madame Suze to use your facilities for a private cryorevival, if they meet Dr. Durona’s needs. May we come in?”
“Huh!” she said, and gave way, staring at Raven. Miles wondered if he’d rumpled Raven’s clothes, mussed his neat hair, and doused him with gin if he would have seemed less out of place, here, less alarming to these people. Too late.
On a table standing out from the far wall lay the naked body of a frail old man, detained, Miles thought, at the border crossing between life and death. A sheet draped across his middle lent him a scrap of dignity, as much as one could have when given over to plastic tubes and the will or whim of others. A cold-blanket wrapped around his skull sped the chilling of his brain. A tube from a tank above, divided partway down, ran a clear liquid into both carotid arteries. A wider tube, from a vein in his thigh, ran a dark pink color to a knee-height tub with a drain, with a trickle of water from a spout above to keep things flowing. Judging from the paleness of the skin and nails, and the color of the murky exit fluid, the old body was almost wholly perfused with cryo-solution.
Ako hovered, closely supervising the process; she’d evidently overheard something through the doorway, because she looked up and said excitedly, “A doctor? We’re getting a real doctor?”
Miles waved down this hope, before it could grow big and bite. “Just visiting. We’ll explain it all when you’re finished, here.”
Jin was staring; Miles wondered how disturbing this process was to the boy, or if he’d seen it before. It was disturbing to Miles, and he’d done it before, or had it done to him. Maybe the more unsettling for that? For the first time, he wondered how much the news of his own encounter with the needle-grenade had felt like history repeats to his father, if it had triggered unwelcome old memories of the Princess-and-Countess Olivia’s messy death. I must apologize to him for that, when next we meet.
“It almost seems too simple,” Miles murmured to Raven.
Raven said, “The complexity lies in the cryo-preservation fluid, which has a whole pharmaceutical facility behind it. Or so one trusts. Where are you getting your cryo-fluid, Madame Tanaka?”
The medtech’s old mouth set in a flat smile. “The concentrate falls off the back of a few loading docks of hospitals here in town. They discard their outdated supplies a couple of times a year. We distill our own water to reconstitute it.”
Miles’s brows rose. “Is that, um… all right? Medically?”
Raven shrugged. “If the use-by dating is fairly conservative, yes.”
It was not, Miles supposed, a choice between discarded fluid and fresh, but between discarded and none. He was reminded again that this place was a parasite operation, clinging to the underbelly of a more functional economy, without which it could not continue to exist. Granted, if its host economy functioned rather better, it wouldn’t need to exist.
Medical sensors blinked timing lights. Ako withdrew the tubes and sealed the entry and exit incisions with plastic bandage, and carefully lathered the skin with ointment. She and Medtech Tanaka horsed the body into a sort of plastic body-glove, then joined forces with Tenbury to shift it all onto the float pallet, where Tenbury covered it more corpselike with a sheet. He guided the pallet out the door. “Want to help me, Jin?” Tenbury asked hopefully over his shoulder. Jin, planting his feet, doggedly shook his head. Tenbury sighed and trundled his burden away.
Ako turned to the clean-up process, Raven leaned against a counter, and Miles found a stool to perch upon. While the medtech folded her arms and listened dubiously, Miles embarked on much the same pitch as he’d presented to Madame Suze, heavy on the implication that Suze had sent them over here with her full blessing. Since Tanaka seemed susceptible to the boy, Miles also unleashed Jin for a judicious blast of heartfelt imploring.
As a result, her frown at the end seemed more technical than political. “We haven’t had most of that section open for years. A lot of the equipment that wasn’t stripped out when the place was decommissioned went later.”
Palmed and pawned or sold, Miles presumed.
“But I do maintain… huh. I think we’ll have to go up and take a look around.”
Not a flat no, impossible, then. Good so far. “That’s what Raven is here for,” Miles assured her. “Suze said—is that her first name or her last, by the way?”
“Both,” said the medtech. “Susan Suzuki.”
“Have you been working with her for long?”
“Since the beginning. There were three of us put the scheme together—Suze, her sister, who was assistant to the comptroller, and me. We roped in Tenbury pretty quick, though.”
“A younger man then, was he? You were critical for the cryoprep, obviously. Did you have any plans for the other end of things, the revivals?”
She blew out her lips in a short laugh. “At the time, I didn’t think we’d go more than a year before we all ended up in jail. I figured it for more of a hopeless protest than anything. Then the street people started coming in, even more desperate than we were, and we found we couldn’t quit. Couldn’t betray them as everyone else had.”
“The world is made by the people who show up for the job,” Miles agreed.
Medtech Tanaka eyed Ako, who had finished cleaning up and drifted over to listen in. “That’s a true thing. Ako and her great-aunt used to run a cook-shop. The usual—the old woman grew ill, the medical bills bankrupted them, the shop failed, they were evicted… came in to us. Ako’d never finished school, but she knew how to clean and wasn’t afraid of work, so I took her on.” Earnest but timid Ako, Miles guessed, would never have gained entry to, let alone graduated from, any medtech academy. This place gave a whole new dimension to the term unlicensed.
“Shouldn’t we take Raven-sensei upstairs now?” Jin urged.
They mounted one floor to the corridor directly above, which had apparently once been a fully-equipped cryorevival facility, with half a dozen operating theaters, a recovery room, and some intensive care booths. Most of it was dark and dusty and, indeed, sadly stripped, but Medtech Tanaka apparently maintained one operating room for procedures more demanding than what antibiotic ointment, surgical glue, and bracing advice would cover. She and Raven fell into intense but by no means discouraged tech-speak, medical division, which ended with sending Jin downstairs to bring back Tenbury for more consultation.
“Who is the owner-of-record for this place?” Miles asked the medtech while they were waiting. “If it was legally abandoned, I’d have thought the city would have seized it for back taxes by now.”
“There have been a couple of supposed owners, over the years. The city won’t seize it for the same reason the current owner, poor slob, can’t unload it. Legal liability for two or three thousand destitute cryo-corpses. He was a contractor, who bought it for what he thought was a song and only then discovered what came with it. Suze has him under control for now. We think the biggest current danger is that he’ll try to solve his dilemma through a spot of arson, but we keep a watch.”
“It doesn’t sound like a very stable situation.”
“Never has been. We just try to go from day to day. Surprising where you can end up, that way.”
Raven, Miles noticed, was listening intently to all this, not in the least appalled. Well, Jacksonian-trained, after all. The Hippocratic Oath, if he’d ever heard of it, was likely only considered a guideline there.