Cold Reboot (Shadow Decade Book 1) by Coorlim Michael

Author:Coorlim, Michael [Coorlim, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: Pomoconsumption Press
Published: 2016-02-18T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12: SON OF A BITCH

Northwestern Memorial's main entrance was a lot nicer than its emergency room, with faux wood paneling and synthetic marble floors that left me feeling under-dressed. A long line stood in front of the reception desk, but there was a prominently displayed set of automated kiosk booths in alcoves along the hall.

The kiosks seemed new, or at least very well maintained, squat white cylinders about as tall as I was, with sloped tops sporting broad touch-screens. I was slowly getting used to this, the ubiquitousness of automated interfaces in place of human personnel. In a way I preferred it, dressed as I was, I didn't want to deal with judgmental nurses like the one I'd seen last night.

As soon as I stood in front of it, the image of a nurse's head and shoulders flickered onto the screen. It was good, if it was computer generated... it looked just like a real person.

"Welcome to Northwestern Memorial Hospital." Her warm and pleasant voice issued forth. "If you know the extension of the party you're here to contact, you may interrupt me at any time. How may I help you today?" The screen-image watched me expectantly.

I didn't see any kind of on-screen menu or keyboard, so I cleared my throat and spoke. "I'm here to visit a patient."

"We welcome visitors from 9 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. daily," the virtual nurse said. "Visitors should be free from colds, sore throats or other contagious conditions. Children under the age of twelve should never be left unattended. Visits by children may be restricted based on the patient's condition. Please check with the attending nurses.

"What is the name or patient ID number of the patient you are here to visit?"

I glanced around behind me before answering. "Baxter Collins."

"Baxter Collins," the nurse repeated, and a still image of Baxter appeared over her shoulder, taken from his driver's license. "Is this correct?"

"Yes."

"Connect your ChicagoCard or other personal network hub device to the Northwestern Memorial network to check in."

I pulled the card out of my purse. The surface had darkened, save for a glowing thumb-print, below which was written "Depress to authorize connection to NORTHWESTERN MEMORIAL PUBLIC NETWORK." I pressed my thumb against the mark.

The surface of the card pulsed, then changed. The ChicagoCard logo faded, replaced by the hospital's, the words Visitor Pass forming underneath along with a digital picture of my face.

The virtual nurse smiled. "Thank you, Erica. Access has been granted. Baxter Collins is in room 302. Augmented Reality guidance is available."

Augmented Reality. The card was the only AR device I possessed, so I held it up in front of my eyes and turned around. Sure enough, through the lens of the card the digital approximation of the nurse from the Kiosk stood before me, slightly transparent, smiling, and waiting.

"Lead on," I said.

She didn't respond or react.

I stepped forward and she started to walk away, taking a few steps down the hall before stopping and turning back to look at me expectantly.

Virtual Nurse led me to the elevator, then up to the third floor.

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