Chương 9: 9-Thermamorphasis

"... And you should have seen Claire's face when I showed her the yield projection on our portfolio!" Tanya nods along as she walks beside Caretaker. At some point, Matron had figured out Tanya had already learned the material they were trying to teach. So today as everyone was lining up to go to the classroom, Caretaker offered to show her the medical wing, where injured 'mon are treated, during class.

It was an offer Tanya accepted both because she's genuinely interested in the work, and because if she has to hear that damn recording again, the boombox is going out a window. There also turned out to be another unexpected benefit.

"What's your risk profile on that?" Tanya asks, tilting her head.

"Biotech isn't historically the most…" She trails off as Caretaker waves away her concerns. On the way she'd gotten into a rather fascinating discussion on Caretaker's new investment portfolio.

"Yes, yes, Dear, I know the reputation. But honestly I think it's overblown, you just need to do a bit of research." She pauses to open a double door labeled 'Short Term Patient Treatment' before continuing.

"Historic volatility scared investors off some real good eggs I'll tell you. My core holding had an IPO of under two fifty! Once they get past phase two trials it'll be all green lines."" If they pass." Tanya cautions. She waves off the warning again.

"Yes 'if' and if it doesn't I'm out four hundred thousand dollars. I'm managing my exposure, don't worry Dear." Tanya pauses as she slips into the ward behind her, considering the valuation ratios that were dictated over the walk and the value of the money involved.

Calculating purchasing power parity across the veil separating universes and time is difficult, but from what she recalls through ever hazier memories, four hundred thousand is roughly equivalent in value to the same amount in Japan, so that's not an absurd amount of money. Plus, if Caretaker says her investments are sound, Tanya has no reason to doubt her clear expertise in both medicine and economics. It's not like she's trying to margin a short position, so the worst that can happen is the stock drops to zero.

But Tanya's own concerns on historic volatility still seem quite reasonable, concerns that Caretaker so readily dismissed…

"Do you mind printing out your fundamental analysis? I'd like to look it over." She says, compromising with herself to just look over the FA to make sure she can't see anything obviously wrong. Caretaker gives a knowing smirk and nod as they approach a corner, the sound of activity and professionalism growing louder just beyond.

"Already printed, Claire has it in her bag." She gestures for Tanya to get closer.

"I'll get it to you after naptime, now stay close, don't want you bumping into anyone!" She says teasingly. Tanya nods, then falls in behind just before they round the corner. Navigating the hallways of the short term ward shows a place bustling with activity, with nurses and chansey alike speeding through the wide hospital style halls to and from several dozen numbered rooms, carrying anything from clipboards to medicine to lunch.

After a moment Tanya notes a nurse in a doctor's lab coat which presumably means she's not a nurse. The former soldier gives a slightly irritated mental grumble at the sight. So much for the doctor/nurse sexual dimorphism theory. Carefully shadowing Caretaker, they suddenly have to step to the side, almost pressing themselves against the wall to get out the way of a nurse pushing a cart full of trays of red spheres.

"Scuse me! Sorry! Pokeballs coming though!" Apologizes the chansey as she cranes her neck to look over the handlebars of a cart that's almost too tall for her. Stepping away from the wall, Caretaker looks down with a grin.

"See? Keep an eye out!" Tanya nods again, but as they continue walking down the hall she finds herself considering, not for the first time, the strange –almost inconsistent– level of technology in this world. Sure they don't have cell phones, laptop computers, or nuclear power. But Pokeballs? They've had those'forever.' And what a marvelous piece of technology those red and white spheres are, especially for the medical field.

Capable of instantaneous long term stasis of a 'mon, no matter how injured while –counter-intuitively– making it easier to heal the injuries of those in stasis. If it were just that it'd already be incredible, but they also allow for near instantaneous transportation across any arbitrary distance, just as long as there's a stable connection at both ends and a bit of infrastructure between them. They figured out teleportation.

With such incredible utility, it only makes sense to make it that pokeballs function as an ID Card for every 'mon. The only thing holding it back is that the technology doesn't work on humans for some reason. But the former soldier has no doubt extremely smart people people are working very hard to close that gap. The military advantage alone would make almost any investment of time and resources worth it; to say nothing on the civilian applications.

Because when Tanya learned about pokeballs, she was almost salivating at the casualty rates in an imagined squadron where every member is effectively a perfect combat medic. Or how a single man could carry a battalion's worth of wounded in a duffel bag, and the utility of a single operative on a deep strike into enemy territory airdropping in, then releasing the rest of his unit.

An army with a deployment time measured by network bandwidth and the speed of light- Coming back to the present with a jolt, Tanya looks around, realizing they'd stopped in front of one of the rooms. Wiping her mouth, she turns a steady gaze to Caretaker as she looks back down.

"Alright, now before we go in there's someone hurt in there." She leans down and places an arm in hers, gently squeezing.

"He's alright, I promise. But there might be a little blood, if it's too much just give me a squeeze and we'll leave, ok?" Tanya has to stop herself from rolling her eyes and take the concern at face value, she has several… dramatic memories demonstrating how her sisters react to seeing someone with a cut. But unless they're pulling apart a bloated corpse with their bare hands Tanya's pretty sure she can handle it.

"Yes Caretaker." She says with a nod. Caretaker gives another long look, before offering an encouraging smile, standing up again, then pulling on the lower of the doors two handles and stepping inside. Following along, Tanya sees the scene in front of her and the smallest bit of irrational concern that they were doing some sort of autopsy instantly disappears.

There are two nurses in the room, –a human and a chansey respectively– tending to a boy around the age of fifteen with pink tinged gauze wrapping both arms, his chest, and the right side of his face. On the lab countertop opposite the examination table there's a… Futuristic looking bucket? A bucket that seems plugged in and, even from almost six feet away, Tanya can feel the heat emanating from it on her face. The human nurse lifts the bandage a little to check underneath, evoking a yelp from the patient."

Oi, Nurse Joy! That stings!" he whines, but the nurse continues to run her finger underneath the seam of the bandage, which quietly makes a dry tearing sound as the cloth lifts.

"Good. Maybe it'll stop you from shoving your face into magma!" She releases the bandage and looks down to chansey.

"Rawstrex gel is effective, burns have lightened to second degree. Keep him in observation overnight and a half dose of lategos with dinner." The chansey nods and picks up the clipboard and pen, and as she does the child chimes in.

"It's lava. It was above ground." He mutters petulantly, ducking his head as Nurse Joy looks back at him. Watching the scene unfold, Tanya gives an incredulous blink as she tries to unpack such an absurd idea He shoved his face into magma? Or lava. Because apparently that wasn't a metaphor. The actual lethality of molten rock is a bit of an unknown for the former soldier, considering she's never actually interacted with the stuff herself.

But common sense tells her if someone shoved their face into it there should be more serious consequences than a few bandages and a visit to the short term ward. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Staring at the bandaged –very much alive– child in front of her, Tanya's mind is flooded with a mountain of questions, the most basic rising to the top. How did this even happen?

Apparently she'd spoken aloud, as the chansey filling out a clipboard speaks up without turning around.

"He tried to hug a slugma." She huffs exasperatedly, adding more checkmarks to the clipboard.

"He succeeded at hugging a slugma." The human nurse chimes in before glancing backwards. Tanya nods like she knows what a slugma is, concluding it's probably a pokemon and related to the electric bucket. At the sight of the two of them, hand in hand, the nurse's face gives a quick flash of surprise and her professional detachment instantly disappears, a bright smile and small wave replacing it.

"Oh, hello there! The Head Nurse said you'd be coming!" She chirps, grabbing the offered paperwork from her partner, signing the bottom of the page, and handing it back. Tanya's hypothesis is proven right as the bucket gives a miserable burble and a glowing pair of molten eyes peek over the rim.

"Ssssory Buddy…" The slugma hisses miserably, the top of their head slowly cooling to softly glowing rock the longer they stay in the relatively cold air. The boy –presumably their partner– jolts up as if the words were deeply offensive to him.

"Hey it's not your fault! I've been warned so many times and I messed up! Don't feel bad!" He half-shouts. The slugma gives another miserable burble and ducks his head again, prompting the child to continue shouting at the bucket but Tanya is already trying to tune the both of them out as she turns her attention to Chansey while she hangs up the clipboard.

"You're treating him for… lava burns?" She asks slowly as the nurse turns around to face them. She leans down, answering with a wide smile and her voice tilted upward with a double dose of sweetness.

"That's right, good job! I'm helping his hurty-spots!" She says, reaching over to pat her head, but Tanya asks her followup question before the arm can make contact.

"Lava rock has a melting point around… eight hundred degrees?" She starts, glancing up to double check with Caretaker as the nurse's arm stops.

"Yes dear, that's the average. But it varies depending on location, volcano geography, and rock composition." Caretaker agrees. Tanya nods, then looks back to the nurse to continue her question.

"Right. Eight hundred degrees. More than enough to flash boil water with direct contact. How is it that he's not more severely injured?" The Chansey stands frozen for a long moment.

"... How old are you?" she finally asks, the question completely unrelated to the one before. Tanya looks up to Caretaker again.

"Eleven months Dear." She says, but her gaze is only half on Tanya, the other half seemingly remaining on the nurse." Tanya nods.

"Thank you Caretaker." She says before turning her attention completely back to the Chansey.

"I assume the slugma isn't actually made of lava, but I can feel the heat from here. Are they colder than molten rock?" The nurse blinks, stares, then blinks more firmly. Tanya says nothing as she allows the professional to consider how to best translate what is no doubt a complicated answer to something a layman could understand. After another few seconds Chansey's unreadable expression morphs into one of pride as she lets out a giggle and gives Tanya a firm headpat.

"Gosh! You're clever!" She says in a much more normal sounding voice as she straightens up.

"Well you're right that it could have been worse but Owen was a very lucky boy!" Reaching behind her, the nurse picks up the clipboard again and flips back though pages until she finds whatever she's looking for.

"You'll learn more about this in nursing school but humans do have a little aura, and his is more fire aligned than average." She flips the paper around to show a spreadsheet with numbers in front of a bunch of two letter abbreviations, presumably some sort of aura test.

"But the real thing that saved him is the strength of their bond." Tanya tilts her head slightly, recognizing the phrase from Caretaker, she used it to explain how partners can understand each other better, now appearing here, claiming this 'bond' allowed heat to injure a person less. Which doesn't make any sense if taken literally, so it must be some sort of poetic metaphor.

"And this 'bond?' How do you measure that?" She asks, making the nurse glance at her with a confused expression.

"Uh- Well- It's not really something you can measure…" She looks down, flipping through the pages for a few seconds before looking back up with that same… off expression.

"You'll learn more about it when you go to school." Tanya nods. As she suspected, poetic metaphor. Drafting up another question on her head, Tanya finds herself interrupted as the patient stands up from his bed, drawing everyone's attention to the interaction between Owen, Nurse Joy, and the bucket of Slugma.

"A-a-and when you did it and we got the badge I was just so happy and-" He yells, nearly crying as Nurse Joy tries to cut in.

"Alright Owen, remember you're still injured, get back in your be-""And I just couldn't help myself! And I'm sorry!" Slugma's eyes, which at some point had begun peaking over the bucket again, hisses out a hesitant question.

"You're really not mad?" He asks, white hot lava leaking from the bottom of his eyes and sliding down the side of the bucket as they cool. Seeing this Chansey drops the clipboard and rushes over to the nearly crying 'mon.

"HeyHeyHeyHey! Don't cry! It's alright! Just get back in your heatpot and-" The boy is crying now.

"Slugma?" Slugma is also crying, lethally hot tears spilling over the side of the bucket.

"Owen?" It was at this point everything devolved into chaos. Because at Slugma's words his partner tried to rush across the room, bandaged arms outstretched for a hug, but is halted as Nurse Joy grapples the slightly shorter boy.

"Oh no you dont!" Unfortunately Chansey couldn't do the same as Slugma started trying to exit his heatpot, instead grabbing a lid sitting next to the open pot and trying to push the 'mon down." Please don't melt the floors!" Meanwhile both trainer and 'mon are babbling positive sounding nonsense between happy sobs. Made only worse as a flash of searingly bright white light erupts from underneath the lid just after Chansey managed to get Slugma down inside.

The sight evokes panicked yelling from both nurses while Owen's happy sobs and babbling escalate as the crucible starts to crac- The door closes, Caretaker having guided Tanya out the room while she was distracted watching the madness. Panting, she takes a moment to catch her breath before looking over to Tanya.

"Looks like they're a little b-" She's cut off as a flash of white light erupts from the door's window above them.

"A little busy. Let's not bother them, right?" Caretaker concludes, more than a little frazzled. Tanya nods emphatically, the idea of being in an enclosed space with an uncontrollable lava creature sounding singularly unpleasant.

"They'll be… alright?" She asks, gesturing to the door. Caretaker nods, taking the arm that was just gesturing to the door and guiding her away from the room.

"Of course Dear, Fran and Chansey are heat specialists, they know what they're doing." Behind them, the door slams open and Nurse Joy comes running out, wisps of smoke clinging to her soot stained uniform, she grabs the wall mounted fire extinguisher and runs back in.

"Don't you dare touch that 'mon young man or so help me -!" She's cut off as the door closes again. Caretaker gives a sigh as they navigate the crowded corridor again, the people out here not reacting to the smoky scene beyond a quick glance.

"You know, stuff like that is why I joined the Nursery wing, much… less…" She trails off, looking down to Tanya as she waits for her to complete the thought.

"Yes?" Caretaker smiles gently.

"Nothing Dear."