Yet A(nother) Year In Seattle
Sunday, May 30, 2066 – The story of my life – without subtitles
Sometimes it feels like my life is like a foreign movie where I don’t speak the language. Things just feel surreal and I’m constantly trying to make sense out of what’s going on. Other times it makes sense but more often then not it’s more like I came in in the middle and I’m trying to piece things together and not lose track of where I am now.
I had a long talk with Nathan today. I knew something had happened in that first apartment fire-something that shook him up a lot more than feeling the hearth spirit die, and afterwards, everyone was a lot more protective of Michael.
And this last incident when the elemental went after Jonathan… at least… I think it was an elemental…
Is it the Walkers? Is it Thunderbird? Is it just dumb luck or am I going after patterns where there are none just because patterns and trends are something I can wrap my mind around and the other alternatives would only prove that I’m on a roller coaster and someone else is behind the wheel, or worse no one is and its going way out of control?
I don’t know but I think I need to look at more data… see if this is happening elsewhere. I’m not sure, but something tells me I’m going to need a lot more index cards.
Monday, May 31, 2066 – Memorial Day
I have seen my share of fitting tributes for those who have fallen in service of this country, but it is always the small things that affect me the most. Take away all the pomp and circumstance. Take away the speeches and there are three things that always stick with me and move me more than anything else: the echo of seven rifles firing in unison, a lone bugler on the rise playing taps and a riderless horse with boots in the stirrups.
Lone private moments, to honor those who died under fire are always the most precious. It is personal and they move me to tears. You are not forgotten.
Tuesday, June 1, 2066 – Potato Salad
It would seem meetings with potato salad can be rather stressful when you’re the one supplying said potato salad.
The meeting went rather well all things considered… like… me trying to make the potato salad; trying to get off the island without Jonathan; and well… running the meeting. Okay, I mentioned the trends I’ve been witnessing and asked my people and several visiting units from other private fire/rescue corporations to contact me if they saw anything that fit the pattern or was just… suspicious then turned the ‘meeting’ over to our grill masters.
When I tried to check on the food I was forced away from the grill pit by several determined looking firefighter drones.
Judging by the stories I heard as I made my way around gathering, I’m not the only one seeing weird things happening. Then again, this is Seattle.
Wednesday, June 2, 2066 – beyond number crunching
I remember someone saying there are three kinds of lies: ‘lies, damn lies, and statistics.’ In their purest form statistics are just data elements grouped by common attributes. The problem has always been in how they are obtained and how they are grouped.
Group any finite bit of information and you can skew them to say whatever you want them to. The thing is-I don’t want them to say anything, I don’t want them to support anything. I just want them to point the way and sadly, I really don’t like the way they’re pointing.
There have been a lot more ‘interesting’ calls than my first analysis covered. It’s part of why I had Nathan at the picnic. He has a good feel for people and let’s face it, how a person tells something can be as important, if not more important, as what’s said.
He’s approaching it from the human side of thing., I’m going for the sheer number crunching method. There’s just too much going on for it to be ‘circumstances’
I may be slow, but I do learn.
Thursday, June 3, 2066 – Shooting begat shooting
Today I was ready for almost anything, which is good because almost everything happened. It started with a drive-by in the Redmond Barrens. That was bad enough, but it got oh so much worse.
It’s a sad state of affairs when things like this become routine and the big problem with routine is the fact that you grow lax. You know what to expect and you forget to look for the unexpected. Lone Star did it… we did it.
While the officers were trying to get statements they let the medics in. That’s when the second drive-by hit… they took out one of the officers and injured three more. Blind luck and the fact that 95% of my medics wear their vests meant I had two more medics in the hospital instead of the morgue, but that wasn’t even half of it.
People died and that meant retaliations and retaliations meant more retaliation. By the time things were reigned in, (with a liberal application of Magic, HRT and federal resources) we were under martial law with a curfew in place for all personnel including law enforcement and EMS.
The only good thing I can say is the shooting’s stopped… for now.
Friday, June 4, 2066 – 98% and rising
It’s really hard to tell if the shootings are over because those involved have just gotten tired of shooting and are taking a breather or if they’ve pretty much taken each other out. For all I know the military presence has something to do with it. Either way, the pundits are now analyzing everyone’s failures and demanding their air time to show how pro-active they are.
I’m proactive. I’m at 98% now when it comes to armored medics. I’d have 100% if I could get Ray to wear one but he insists that it just doesn’t go with his walker.
The Army and National Guard are doing their best to keep the situation under control, but listening to Case it really sounds like them doing their job is keeping law enforcement from finding out exactly what happened.
It’s times like these I’m glad I’m a medic-my position is straightforward: keep people alive. It’s a rather simplistic way of looking at things, but it works for me.
Saturday, June 5, 2066 – 2% Solution
Sometimes all it takes to figure something out is a different perspective. It’s true for investigations and sometimes, it’s true for medical conditions.
I was reviewing the past few days’ cases and checking in on my medics in the hospital, with supervision of course when I ran into Ray as he was leaving pt. It seems he’s not getting better and it’s been wearing on him.
It started out as a sympathetic bs session and ended as something else entirely. When Ray took the spill, way back when he broke his pelvis. I knew he’d had some setbacks-it turns out the break wasn’t healing properly.
The general diagnosis was that they would need to reset the bones and try again. Only there are no guarantees that it will get any better.
“You know,” I told him half teasing “You could get a pelvis pre-made…”
I was joking, but we agreed it could work. I need to check but I think it would be covered under medical.
Now, if only I could solve the martial law situation as easily.
Copyright 2010 M.T. Decker