Kraken Calling by Aric McBay

Author:Aric McBay [Aric McBay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: activism; revolution; societal collapse; speculative fiction; anarchism; environmental fiction; environmental; nature; post-apocalyptic; apocalyptic; science fiction; apocalypse; science fiction books; sci fi; sci fi books; post apocalyptic fiction; election; apocalyptic fiction; political books; fiction; politics; novels; fiction books; sci fi book; science fiction and fantasy; sci-fi; sci-fi books; science fiction novels; books science fiction; books fiction; political; fantasy; war; post apocalyptic; steampunk; magic; dystopia
ISBN: 9781644211458
Publisher: Seven Stories Press
Published: 2022-05-12T18:00:00+00:00

“Your father suffered a seizure,” the doctor explained to Dee. The doctor was a young man, clean-shaven, dark-haired. “We phoned him when you were admitted, but when he was told what had happened, he ceased speaking.”

Dee said nothing. Morning sun came through the window of her room. After she’d discovered her father, she had been carried back to her bed and reattached to the tubes and wires. A nurse checked her every fifteen minutes for the rest of the night to make sure she wasn’t trying to escape.

“We thought there was a problem with the phone connection. We didn’t realize he was having a seizure. Once he was discovered by your neighbor and an ambulance dispatched, some time had passed. He wasn’t breathing fully on his own. His brain was deprived of oxygen. He hasn’t regained consciousness.” The doctor flipped through sheets of paper on his clipboard. “Your father has a . . . complicated medical history. We’ve run CT scans; the results are inconclusive. He likely struck his head during the seizure and suffered some bleeding in his brain.”

“Are you saying he’s had a stroke?” asked Dee.

“Possibly,” the doctor replied. “Any bleeding in the brain is serious in a man your father’s age.”

“He’s not that old,” said Dee.

“Hmmm,” said the doctor gently, “he’s not young, either.”

“He was over forty when I was born,” said Dee, staring out the window.

The doctor cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Anyway, your X-rays are looking good. Knee damage is not as bad as we had worried.”

“I need a phone,” said Dee. “I need to . . . contact my family.”

“I have good news, then,” said the doctor. “Your cousin is waiting down the hall.”

Dee tried to mask her confusion. They had reduced her drug dosage, but this made no sense. Had some distant relative flown all the way from Bangladesh? “My cousin,” she repeated.

The doctor went to the doorway, beckoned someone—“I’ll give you two a moment”—then left the room.

A moment later, Rebecca walked in. She stood beside Dee’s bed and took Dee’s hands in her own. Her eyes looked deeply concerned, but there was a smile on her face. “Hi cousin,” she said softly, squeezing Dee’s hand.

Dee squeezed back. “The network?” she asked.

Rebecca looked away. “When we didn’t hear from you, we almost ran. But we were so close to something momentous, that I—” She paused and looked back at Dee. “I hoped that the communications breakdown was just an accident. I told the others to go ahead with the plan. It happened last night.”

Dee nodded. “And?”

“It was amazing,” said Rebecca, and they both smiled.

Dee’s smile faded quickly. “My father,” she began.

“I know,” said Rebecca, her soft eyes full of sympathy and understanding. She leaned over and hugged Dee tightly.

In spite of herself, Dee began to cry. But only for a moment. Then she swallowed her tears, patted her eyes on her bed sheet. “We’d better get back to work,” she said.

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