Velvet Dogma About 3300 wds by Weston Ochse Page B

critical condition. No one told her. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary. But the energy of the hospital changed. The movement of the staff changed. These were things she could tell on a subconscious level. Just as she could tell that this D-Pens was nothing more than a human garage.
    Mr. Singh had taken off at a quick stride and it took her a few moments to catch up. She wanted to ask him how her grandmother was doing, but his demeanor put her off entirely. He didn't seem to want to be trifled with. He was a gatekeeper, nothing more.
    She noted the signs as she passed. 34C. 35C. She was walking so quickly she couldn't get a good idea what the rooms looked like, but she'd seen plenty of patients lying in beds. Nothing else, though. No couches or furniture, no TVs dropped from the ceiling. She intentionally slowed down, anticipating her grandmother's room.
    "Follow me please," said Singh.
    She ignored him and halted before the closed door to 42C. She watched as he continued on, trying to gauge if he'd do anything. He didn't even seem to notice where she was. She opened the door and slipped inside. But as she went to close it, a hand kept it from closing.
    "What do you think you're doing?"   Singh stepped between the door and the jam. He pressed his lips together and glared at her as if she were a child. "You need to follow me, Ms. Mines."  
    "But this is her room."   She blinked innocently.
    "Yes, but before you see her, we need to annotate some information."   He was smooth, but not so smooth that Rebecca didn't notice his nervousness. Annotate information my ass! She thought.
    "Tell you what, Mr. Singh. I'll have a word with my grandmother, then swing by for that."   Her next words cut-off any argument. "I'm sure you understand. I haven't seen her in twenty years."
    He knew when he was beat. She could see it in his eyes. He let go of the door reluctantly and nodded his head once. "You do that, Ms. Mines. I'll be waiting down the hall. We're expecting you."   Then he was gone.
    She pushed the door shut and pressed her back against it. Whew, that was close. She wondered where that little man had planned on taking her. Was there a squad of Black Hearts waiting in a room down the hall? It didn't even matter. She had no intention of keeping her appointment with him.
    Now that she was in one of the rooms, she was able to examine it more closely. The windowless walls, ceiling and floor were a slick composite. Five beds were in a row along the left hand side. The right wall held a bank of display screens. Red, blue and green lights blinked off and on at intervals. She spied her grandmother's name and walked to the monitor. Gobbledygook code scrawled across the screen. Seven green lights and one red. What was that one for?
    "Becky? Is that you?"
    A thousand chocolate chip cookies. A hundred presents. A million kisses and love you promises. An age-spotted hand on her shoulder as her books lay scattered on the dining room table while she struggled to learn geometry, chemistry and algebra. The smell of her house sweater after it came off the clothesline. Lilacs.
    "Grandma?"
    "Yes, dear."   The old woman's voice sounded tired and strangely muffled. "David said you'd be by to see me soon."
    Rebecca turned and took in the sight of her grandmother in the bed. Her mouth opened slowly and tears filled her widening eyes. Her grandmother lay in a bed like none she'd ever seen, nor ever wanted to see. In fact, it wasn't really a bed at all. It was a platform with raised sides, into which some sort of plastic gelatin had been poured, clear enough so that Rebecca could see every detail of the old woman encased in the curious slime. Even her head was held beneath the gelatin. A facemask covered her mouth, fed by tubes that disappeared into the gelatin beneath her. The only thing above the surface of the gelatin were the twin PODs resting over her grandmother's eyes.
    "I take it," came her disembodied voice, "that David didn't prepare