Doomsday Book

Colin came in, wet and breathless, with a pair of boots. "She has guards everywhere," he said. "Mr. Finch says to tell you the net's ready except he can't find anyone to do med support."

"Tell William to arrange it," he said. "He's taking care of the discharges and the streptomycin injection."

"I know. I've got to deliver a message to Badri from him. I'll be back."

He did not come back, and neither did William. When Dunworthy walked to the phone to ring Balliol, the sister caught him halfway and escorted him back to his room. Either her tightened defenses excluded Mrs. Gaddson as well, or Mrs. Gaddson was still angry over William. She did not come all afternoon.

Just after tea a pretty nurse he hadn't seen before came in with a syringe. "Sister's been called away on an emergency," she said.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the syringe.

She tapped the console keyboard with one finger of her free hand. She looked at the screen, tapped in a few more characters, and came around to inject him. "Streptomycin," she said.

She did not seem nervous or furtive, which meant William must have managed the authorization somehow. She injected the largish syringe into the ca

It was his chart. He recognized it because it looked like Badri's and was as unreadable. The last entry read, "ICU15802691 14-1-55 1805 150/RPT 1800 CRS IMSTMC 4ML/q6h NHS40-211-7 M AHRENS."

He sat down on the bed. Oh, Mary.

William must have obtained obtained her access code, perhaps from his friend in Records, and fed it into the computer. Records was no doubt far behind, swamped by the paperwork of the epidemic, and had not yet got to Mary's death. They would catch the error someday, though the resourceful William had no doubt already arranged for its erasure.

He scrolled the screen back through his chart. There were M. AHRENS entries up through 8-1-55, the day she had died. She must have nursed him until she could no longer stand. No wonder her heart had stopped.

He switched the console off so that the sister wouldn't spot the entry and got into bed. He wondered if William pla

No one came in all evening. The sister hobbled in to check his tach bracelet and give him his temp at eight o'clock, and she entered them in the console but didn't appear to notice anything. At ten a second nurse, also pretty, came in, repeated the streptomycin infection, and gave him one of gamma globulin.

She left the screen on, and Dunworthy lay down so he could see Mary's name. He didn't think he would be able to sleep, but he did. He dreamed of Egypt and the Valley of the Kings.

"Mr. Dunworthy, wake up," Colin whispered. He was shining a pocket torch in his face.

"What is it?" Dunworthy said, blinking against the light. He groped for his spectacles. "What's happened?"

"It's me, Colin," he whispered. He turned the torch on himself. He was wearing, for some unknown reason, a large white lab coat, and his face looked strained, sinister in the upturned light of the torch.

"What's wrong?" Dunworthy asked.

"Nothing," Colin whispered. "You're being discharged."

Dunworthy hooked his spectacles over his ears. He still couldn't see anything. "What time is it?" he whispered.

"Four o'clock." He thrust his slippers at him and turned the torch on the closet. "Do hurry." He took Dunworthy's robe off the hook and handed it to him. "She's likely to come back any moment."

Dunworthy fumbled with the robe and slippers, trying to wake up, wondering why they were being discharged at this odd hour and where the sister was.

Colin went to the door and peeked out. He switched the torch off, stuck it in the pocket of the too-large lab coat, and eased the door shut. After a long, breath-holding moment, he opened it a crack and looked out. "All clear," he said, motioning to Dunworthy. "William's taken her into the linen room."

"Who, the nurse?" Dunworthy asked, still groggy. "Why is she on duty?"

"Not the nurse. The sister. William's keeping her in there till we're gone."

"What about Mrs. Gaddson?"

Colin looked sheepish. "She's reading to Mr. Latimer," he said defensively. "I had to do something with her, and Mr. Latimer can't hear her." He opened the door all the way. There was a wheelchair just outside. He took hold of the handles.

"I can walk," Dunworthy said.

"There isn't time," Colin whispered. "And if anyone sees us I can tell them I'm taking you up to Sca

Dunworthy sat down and let Colin push him down the corridor and past the linen room and Latimer's room. He could hear Mrs. Gaddson's voice dimly through the door, reading from Exodus.

Colin continued on tiptoe to the end of the corridor and then took off at a rate that could not possibly be mistaken for taking a patient to Sca

It was pitch black in the alley and raining hard. He could only dimly make out the ambulance parked at the street end. Colin knocked on the back of it with his fist, and an ambulance attendant jumped down. It was the medic who had helped bring Badri in. And had picketed Brasenose. "Can you climb up?" she asked, blushing.

Dunworthy nodded and stood up.

"Pull the doors to," she told Colin and went round to get in the front.

"Don't tell me, she's a friend of William's," Dunworthy said, looking after her.

"Of course," Colin said. "She asked me what sort of mother- in-law I thought Mrs. Gaddson would be." He helped him up the step and into the ambulance.

"Where's Badri?" Dunworthy asked, wiping the rain off his spectacles.

Colin pulled the doors to. "At Balliol. We took him first, so he could set up the net." He looked anxiously out the back window. "I do hope Sister doesn't sound the alarm before we're gone."

"I shouldn't worry about it," Dunworthy said. He had clearly underestimated William's powers. The sister was probably on Willam's lap in the linen room, embroidering their intertwined initials on the towels.

Colin switched on the torch and shone it on the stretcher. "I brought your costume," he said, handing Dunworthy the black doublet.

Dunworthy took off his robe and put it on. The ambulance started up, nearly knocking him over. He sat down on the side bench, bracing himself against the swaying side, and pulled on the black tights.

William's medic had not switched on the siren, but she was going at such a rate she should have. Dunworthy clung to the strap with one hand and pulled on the breeches with the other, and Colin, reaching for the boots, nearly went over on his head.

"We found you a cloak," Colin said. "Mr. Finch borrowed it of the Classical Theatre Society." He shook it out. It was Victorian, black and lined in red silk. He draped it over Dunworthy's shoulders.

"What production did they put on? Dracula?"

The ambulance lurched to a stop, and the medic yanked open the doors. Colin helped Dunworthy down, holding up the train of the voluminous cloak like a pageboy. They ducked in under the gate. The rain pattered loudly on the stone overhead and under it was a clanging sound.

"What's that?" Dunworthy asked, peering out into the dark quad.

"'When At Last My Savior Cometh,'" Colin said. "The Americans are practicing it for some church thing. Necrotic, isn't it?"

"Mrs. Gaddson said they were practicing at all hours, but I'd no idea she meant five in the morning."

"The concert's tonight," Colin said.

"Tonight?" Dunworthy said, and realized it was the fifteenth. The sixth on the Julian calendar. Epiphany, the Arrival of the Wise Men.