Through a Doctor's Eyes
Amy Sage raked her fingers through her shoulder length red hair and let out an enormous sigh. She looked through the last several entries in the hospitals logbook for what seemed to be the millionth time, looking for a pattern. For several months now, the 23 year old doctor had been treating an increasing amount of wounds caused by biomonsters. The records showed biomonster injuries going back to two years, before she had become a doctor.
What she wondered about was why Mother Brain would allow so many dangerous creatures roam free. She shook her head and muttered a curse, frustrated. The central control system of their planet, Mother Brain, was there to make sure things like this didnt happen. She drew a small mark near the first biomonster attack: June 4, 1282 AW, two years ago. The same year the law against traveling to the ocean was put into effect.
When Amy left the building, it was nearly midnight. She trudged her way over to the teleporting station in Paseo. When she returned to her home in Oputa, she immediately sat down in front of her computer. After the request for a search was made, she typed in: Mother Brain + biomonster. None of the results showed any disorder either had caused. That was just what Amy had expected: censorship in all areas making Mother Brain look bad. She got up and went to bed, determined to search for the answer on the next morning.
When Algo rose, Amy woke up and mechanically ate her breakfast. The normally kind and gentle doctor was irritable and snappy with her colleagues, annoyed that everyone else seemed to be blind to what she was seeing everywhere: decline in freedom, increase in danger, and faults in their precious Mother Brain. Only one rebellion was known of, though the knowledge was of no use, since the identities of these rebels remained, sadly, unknown.
That day, though, turned out to be more interesting than the most. After lunch, Amy took her shift at the clinic, in which more minor wounds were treated. Five minutes after she had arrived, a weary looking group of three arrived. The two men were clad in armor and both held weapons, one a laser sword, the other, a heavy shotgun. The woman was the one that caught her interest though. She looked like a regular person: purple hair, tall, and slim until you got up to her ears. They were nearly five inches long and possessed no lobes.
Amy forced a smile on to her face and asked if she could help. And she did, rubbing salves and potions into their cuts, and using her restore spell to good effect. Amy would have thought them to be ordinary people, but for the injuries they each had and the peculiar eared one they called Nei. When they left after paying, her stare lingered on their retreating forms.
Who were they? What were they doing sporting injuries such as those? Even the normal biomonster attacked man or woman showed nothing worse than a few cuts here and there made by the semi-common fire ant, mosquito, or buzzer. Most usually had enough spells to heal themselves halfway also.
Amy quickly glanced at the signup sheet and noted their names: Rolf Landale, Nei, and Rudolph Steiner. That night, her search of them revealed a profile of each, each one except for Nei. All that was written under that was: an ancient word meaning power, now used to describe something human, but not human well, she certainly had been that. Something had also mentioned a power surge at the Biosystems lab earlier in the years, but that was common knowledge.
Then it dawned on her: these were the rebels probably the only ones on the whole planet of Mota that thought the same way she did. Then Amy made the biggest decision of her life. She would join them.
The next morning she stood on his doorstep and tentatively knocked at Rolfs door. When he opened the door, she took a deep breath and introduced herself, How do you do? I am Dr. Amy Sage. I heard that you are seeking to solve the mystery of the Biomonsters. I will be glad to assist you, though I am not much of a fighter. But, I can heal wounds. Give me a new name, if you wish, as a sign of closeness.
Little did she know what she was getting herself into.