Log Date: 7/16/96
Log Cast: Tance, Quinn, Nadine
Log Intro:
	Weeks have begun to pass as the dazed old Singer Tance Vokrim
recovers from a serious sled crash in the Infirmary. His physical wounds
have finally healed, but he remains scattered of memory, even more so
than usual -- but this has begun to give way to a growing restlessness,
and a conviction that there is something he ought to be doing -- he just
can't remember what.
	In the meantime, the medics have noticed he has regressed in
his head to thinking he had just adapted -- and that he'd continually
muttered about someone named 'Meguey' who hasn't come to see him...
perhaps it is restlesness about that, as well, that finally drives Tance
out of the ward and out into the corridors of Level 12....

----------
Lift Area - 12
The colors are dimmer here, even to your enhanced eyes. The air filters 
  cannot completely mask the scent of medicine and sickness here, though.
This well carpeted area circumscribes a circle with the center being filled 
  by a shiny lift tube. On the doors to the tube is the number 12. There is a 
  button set into the wall, you may summon a 'lift.'
Contents:
Quinn
Lift 1
Obvious exits:
Infirmary  New Arrivals  Trauma Center  Radiant Tubs

Tance(#3209POQce)
This is a man of just under average height, with a build that might be skinny 
  if not augmented by knots of wiry muscle along his shoulders and limbs. He 
  is deeply tanned, with the look of one who spends a lot of time working 
  outdoors, and his roughly planed face and callused hands show signs of 
  regular weathering. His eyes, a dark and sullen shade of brown, are framed 
  by lines in his skin that suggest that far too often, their owner glares at 
  anything in his sight.

His hair, a peppered mix of dark brown, lighter sunstreaks, and myriad 
  strands of grey, has been trimmed to a short but not unattractive style, 
  with even a lock to dangle a little in front and give him a more youthful 
  look. A neat Vandyke beard, closer to grey than his hair, stands out palely 
  against his weathered face, set off by his tan. He is clad only in one of 
  the utilitarian gowns the Infirmary of the Heptite Guild issues to its 
  patients, a thing of servicable grey cloth that grants at least a measure of 
  dignity and privacy to the wearer while allowing a medic to scan him or her 
  with ease.

Quinn looks at you for a moment.

Tance wanders past, looking somewhat bemusedly.

Quinn watches the man walk by, curiously, "Is there anything I may help you 
  with, sir?"

Quinn
Average height, average weight - and a face that you could lose in a crowd of 
  three. Someone who'll never stand out, someone who you'd be hard put to even 
  remember the color of their eyes - the only thing on which to hang any form 
  of image being his stride, a lightfooted, almost mincing bounce of a gait.

He's dressed in a standard shipsuit, in a light purplish color. A leather 
  choker with a gem in the shape of a caduceus is wrapped around his neck, 
  and, in his left ear, if you really look, is an earplug of some sort.

Tance blinkblinks, and turns guilelessly to the stranger. "I'm... supposed to 
  be doing something," he says, brow furrowed.

Quinn smiles, "Well, perhaps I can help you find out what it is you're 
  supposed to be doing, Mr....?"

Tance, his expression strangely boyish for a man of his evident age, supplies 
  helpfully, "My name's Tance, I'm with 1554... they told me I'm a Singer..."

Quinn smiles, "My name is Quinn. I'm a meditech, class 2019. Perhaps you'd 
  come back into the infirmary with me, and we can see if we can find out what 
  you need to do?"

Tance blinks, then says bemusedly, "I was just in there..."

Quinn nods, "Well, yes, but there are chairs in there. There aren't any out 
  here."

Tance ohs. "Alright," he says absently.

Quinn smiles, lifting his hand to the man's shoulder, "After you, sir?"
Quinn looks at you for a moment.

Tance peers fascinatedly at the wall, apparently distracted by the texture of 
  it, then he starts when he's addressed as sir. For a moment he stares 
  blankly at the medic, then blinks again. "Oh... right..." And he wanders 
  into the main infirmary.

You walk into the clinic of the infirmary.
Infirmary(#403RAM)
The main infirmary is a bustling place with medics, orderlies and patients 
  constantly moving about. The floor is covered with a sterile-looking white 
  tile, the walls painted with stripes of various colours. A velvet black 
  stripe leads past several medical offices to Long Term Care, while a dark 
  red stripe leads off in the direction of Short Term facilities. At the 
  nearest end to the lifts, a large administration area has been set up, 
  complete with monitors and computer equipment lining the walls behind the 
  long counter. Towards the other end of the room, several examination tables 
  sit quietly amongst movable privacy screens and sterile cabinets. Since the 
  infirmary is so buried so far underground, only the strongest Passover 
  storms produce any sub-vocal resonances. The ever-present smell of medicines 
  and antispetics hangs in the air. The lighting on this level has been set to 
  a muted glow for the evening hours.
Contents:
Dr. Bear
Catering Unit
Obvious exits:
Private Door  Long Term Care  Short Term Care  Lift

Quinn walks softly from the lift area.
Quinn has arrived.

Nadine walks softly from the lift area.
Nadine has arrived.

Quinn follows Tance in, and leads him, albiet gently, to a chair, "If you'll 
  have a seat, Singer Tance, we'll take a look. Sound good to you?"
Quinn glances briefly over towards Nadine, but quickly returns his attention 
  to the Singer.

Tance tells Quinn dreamily, "Sure there's something... I mean, I remember..." 
  He settles down placidly in the chair.

Nadine walks in, tugging on the sleeves of her labcoat, looking as though 
  she's mostly just crawled out of bed. "Evening Quinn, Tance."

Tance blinkblinkblinks as he is greeted, and he looks owlishly in Nadine's 
  direction.

Quinn circles around to the opposite side of the desk, and thumbprint logs 
  himself in, "Now, sir, if you'll say your name, I'm sure there are computer 
  records." He looks over towards Nadine, nods, glances towards Tance, and 
  raises a questioning eyebrow towards the other medic.

Tance is easily distracted. "Name? Oh... name... yes, I remember..." He 
  straightens, then delivers in a firm bark, "Tance Vokrim!"

Nadine smiles, "How's your memory faring these days, Tance? I see they let you 
  up and about again."

Quinn nods, indicating that he wishes to call up the records for the patient 
  named. He reads quickly.

Tance then peers back at Nadine and says blankly, "You know..." He peers more 
  closely, notes the labcoat, and promptly turns placid again. But plaintive, 
  with his eyebrows drawn together. "I'm supposed to be doing something," he 
  insists.
Tance mumbles, shifting fretfully in his seat, "She should've come by now...!"

Nadine heads toward the lift area.
Nadine has left.

Quinn nods, "Well, Singer, it looks like you've been with us for a while. I'm 
  afraid there's no specific listing for what you might be looking for, but, 
  well, perhaps if you might tell me what you've been doing recently, we can 
  figure it out?"

Tance looks vaguely up at the medic. "I've been here," he says.

Quinn nods, "I see. Well, do you remember why you're here, sir?"

Tance scratches his head, and blurts, "I crashed? No... my arm... no, my 
  leg..." He frowns.

Quinn smiles, "It's all right. You look like you're fine to me. But I'll tell 
  you what, we'll do some tests and make sure the symbiont is doing it's work. 
  Perhaps you'd like to rest through them?"

Tance peers down at himself, flexing his right hand, as if not sure it should 
  be in working order. "Been fuzzheaded," he mutters.

Quinn nods, "We all get that way sometimes. It's nothing to worry about, sir. 
  In fact, I was that way just last week." Of course, he doesn't mention he 
  was in adaption last week, but that's besides the point.

Tance nods slowly, and rises. A bit of rest sounds good. "Sleepy," he mumbles, 
  and totters off towards the short term care room.

----------
Log Date: 7/22/96
Log Cast: Tance, Liste, Daron
Log Intro:
	Still being cared for in the Infirmary, Tance Vokrim has continued
to be confused -- but less and less so. And as his memory begins to return,
at least as much as it ever has, he gets an unexpected visitor....

Short Term Care
This area is dedicated to fixing minor emergencies, such as broken bones and 
  severed fingers. Medical cabinets on the walls are filled with bandages, 
  ointments and medicines. The gleaming white walls help to sooth anxious 
  nerves while providing medics with bright light to work by. The room has a 
  sterile, antiseptic smell. Movable gurneys can be used to transport an 
  injured Guild member from place to place. There is a button next to each bed 
  that can be used to summon medical help. The monitor in this room is off. 
  Tance is checked into bed one, and Elsiarra is checked into bed two.
Obvious exits:
Infirmary

Liste walks into Short Term Care looking for medical assistance.
Liste has arrived.

Tance lies dozing on his bed, restlessly, brow furrowed.

Liste peeks in, and frowns. "Never a medic when you need one." she grumbles.

Tance's head jerks, and he mumbles something that sounds like "Meggie", or 
  perhaps, "Megwee."

Liste loks over, and says more loudly, evidently to make sure you hear. "Ah, 
  you need one too.. well, let me go see if I can find someone." She stops, 
  and looks at her wrist. "Y'know, I bet I could just call one with my little 
  com link." She whacks the side of her head with the butt of her hand. 
  "C'mon.. clear the buzz."

Tance stirs, frowns, and opens his eyes. "Meg?" he mumbles.

Liste
 Tall and willowy would probably be two good words for this human-norm 
  framed-female...so might 'very happy'. Clearly, something's gotten into this 
  person's blood, and if one isn't careful, whatever it is might just rub off. 
  She's very near two meters tall, and trim.. her form is well-defined, 
  evidently through exercise or hard work, or both. Her limbs are long and 
  sleek, her cheekbones high.. her eyes are a cornflower-blue set beneath thin 
  but expressive brows, hair of a sandy brown.. it stubbornly refuses to curl. 
  Her smile is strong, bright teeth set between full lips that she colors 
  raspberry... which is all the color she seems to wear. She smells faintly of 
  vanilla and cinnamon.
 She wears a crimson shift of a silky material, cut low on the shoulder.. 
  which manages to show off the deep hollow at the base of her throat, and 
  leaves her arms nearly bare. Below, she has wrapped a creme and blue 
  floral-printed sarong. Her feet are bare, and surprisingly small for her 
  body.. not what you'd expect. Jewelry? Just the standard Heptite Guild 
  bracelet that marks her as a Singer. Oh, and the anklet of tiny silver bells 
  that chime as she walks.

Liste waves, as she sees you open your eyes. "Not-Meg."

Tance's face falls, as he blinks groggily around the room.

Liste says "Eh, sorry.. at the moment, I wish I was."

The man's dark eyes glimmer wetly for a moment, as he mumbles, "Dream... a 
  dream... gone... frag it..."

Liste moves fully into the room. "Who's Meg? Is she around? I might be able 
  to find her.."
Liste looks at you for a moment.

Tance lifts a hand to his head, rubs at it, and scowls vaguely into the 
  air.Despitee no obvious sign of injury he is plainly disoriented, and he 
  mutters in a rough voice, "Don't remember... doesn't matter anyway..."

Liste says "Sure it matters.. don't remember anything about this person? We 
  could look 'Meg' up in the computers, if you're not being isolated, or 
  something."

Tance focuses on his unexplained visitor, and says blankly, "Isolated?"

Liste shrugs. "Y' never know what they're going to do down here.. you know 
  that they have a cannibal doctor?"

Tance stares, slowly pushing himself upright. And at that, he scowls, a 
  little more heavily. "You're cracking my drive," he accuses.

Liste shakes her head, she jingles faintly with the motion. "Not at all.. 
  what do you think they do with all the fingers we Singers slice off?"
Liste says "Don't remember which on it is.. but I know he's a Tyrian, too."

Tance's glower deepens, and he shoves himself to his feet, mumbling, "Making 
  fun of an old man... no time for this... I gotta go..."

Liste says "Why're you here, if you've got to go? I wouldn't lie to you.. no 
  sense in it."

The bearded patient glances at you, rubs the back of his hand across his 
  eyes, and mumbles, "Don't know what makes sense anymore..."

Liste turns to go. "But, if you wan to be alone, I can surely oblige you.. I 
  didn't mind having someone to chat with, though."

Tance lowers his hand, and just stands there, staring morosely and rather 
  startledly at the floor. "Old..."

Liste turns a bit. "Nothing wrong with old.. lots of things are old. Doesn't 
  mean they don't have things to contribute. Shankill's old, right? But we 
  still use it."

"Fix Shankill if it breaks... station remembers... old Singers, no good..." 
  The man's scowl slumps into a hangdog, dejected frown, and he stares glumly 
  at the floor.

Liste frowns a bit, crossing her arms in front of her. "Hmm.. well, what can 
  you do? Maybe you could retune crystal.. or, maybe you could install crystal 
  somewhere?"
Liste says "Fix cutters? Sort? I dunno."

Tance's brow furrows. He mutters brusquely, "Don't remember... just the 
  crystal... I know I was doing that..." His head lifts, and he stares off 
  absently into the air. "Yes..."

Liste says "You been out in the Ranges alot, I suppose? WHy not stick around 
  the facility for a while.. clear your head? Have you soaked?"

Tance blinkblinks, then focuses on the other Singer again, and says 
  plaintively, "I need to cut."

Liste says "Why? Short on money.. or just _need_ to?"
Liste purses her lips. "Hmmm.. surely the Guild could find something for you 
  to do.. do you know anything about the Met stations out there?"
Liste says "Besides.. you might be able to find some of the older Singers out 
  there on the Ranges.. surely they know of plenty of black and white claims.. 
  that'd make the Guild happy."

Tance, through all of this, stares bemusedly at you as though half of the 
  words you're speaking are in a language he doesn't understand. He abruptly 
  snorts, and slumps down onto the bed. "Don't remember anything but crystal," 
  he growls. "And nobody'll help an old karker like me anyway."

Liste shrugs, but she grins. "I thought I was helping you right now.. 
  besides, the Guild should take better care of its people. It's not like the 
  GUild isn't impossibly wealthy.. they could try to take care of people 
  who've given their lives for the Guild and it's crystal. Pensions, or 
  something."
Liste says "Be more organized.. make mandatory checkups once in a while.. and 
  move the people who are beyond their useful lifespan as a Singer into some 
  other department.. it's wasteful to let all that training and experience go 
  to waste, just to get a few more crystalsd out of the ground."
Liste continues, going a bit distant. "I mean.. if they weren't so worried 
  about profit, they could rule the FSP, if they wanted.. I mean, who'd going 
  to attack Ballybran? And a bunch of Singers in an army would be quite useful.
Liste says "What's your name, anyway.. hey, I'll put a note in my datapad, so 
  I'll remember to go beat on the Guild Master's door.. Vyana'll listen, I 
  think.. If only Andi were around.. she'd think of something."

Tance looks rather dazed by this speech, and blinks at you several times 
  before finally mumbling, "Tance."

Liste nods. "Tance.. well, greetings! I'm Auliste.. most people call me 
  'Liste, for short.
Liste softens her voice, smiling. "Wouldn't you rather do something like 
  that? SOrt, or help the Guild in some other way.. rather than going out into 
  the Ranges to scrabble in the dirt for a few shards of crystal? You can get 
  most of the buzz you need here in the facility."
Liste looks at you for a moment.

Tance stares, wide-eyed, at this strange young woman. "Not... sing the 
  crystal?" The idea seems utterly alien to him.

Liste says "Well.. you could sing.. but sing to retune, or something.. not 
  out in the Ranges until you had to."
Liste smiles again. "You could help the Guild in R&D.. surely your head is 
  full of neat gadgets that could help we less-experienced Singers."

Daron walks into Short Term Care looking for medical assistance.
Daron has arrived.

Liste continues, not noticing the newcomer for a moment. "There are plenty of 
  things you can do.. that reminds me.. have you eaten today, Tance?"
Liste frowns. "You're awfully thin, you know? I've just noticed."

Tance blurts, looking rather overwhelmed, "Can't remember my own karking name 
  half the time... gadgets?" He rubs his eyes again with the back of his hand, 
  and then blinks yet again. "Thin?"

Daron looks in checking the monitors

Liste turns a bit, and spies the meditech symbol on the newcomer's breast... 
  "Well! Finally.. finally a medic shows up."

Daron hrms?

Liste jerks her thumb back toward the other Singer. "Why is he in here? Do 
  you people never feed him? Look at him! He's skin and bones.. if he didn't 
  have a symbiote, he'd be dead by now.. and how can his symbiote be healthy, 
  if he's like this?"

Tance, once more slumped on his bed, blinks dazedly between the two others in 
  the room.

Liste raises her voice a bit, thin brows furrowed. "And, what's the name of 
  that cannibal medic, so I can watch out for 'im?"

Daron barely raises an eyebrow, "Most likely he's in here to deresonate, we 
  feed him or at least offer food to him several times a day. Cannibal? Do you 
  mean Tyrian?"

Tance peers down at himself and mutters, "Don't hear nothing."

Liste shakes her head. "Offer him food? He's an old Singer.. you'll have to 
  force him to eat, or hook him up to an IV.. he won't remember."

Daron shrugs, "If he's hungry he'll eat. It's not like we take away the food."

Liste says "Well.. at least give him some vitamin supplements or something.. 
  maybe that'll help clear his head. Gods know my head is buzzy enough most 
  the time, and I've not been a SInger long."

Tance glances around, and mutters, "Don't see no food. Cracking an old man's 
  drive again..."

Daron shakes his head slowly, "still hungry Tance?"

Tance, addressed, blinkblinks at Daron, absently. "Used to it," he mutters.

Daron says "There's ice cream if you want?"

The old Singer starts to bark something else, then pauses, and stares at 
  Daron, as if suddenly captivated. His eyes widen a little.

Liste turns to the Singer, and clicks her tongue. "You've got to remember to 
  eat, now.. if you want to be a useful Singer. Your body won't last forever 
  anyway, but if you're abusing it, it won't last long at all."

Tance breathes hopefully, "Ice cream. Peach?"

Daron cocks his head, "I believe there's peach ice cream. I'll be right back."
Daron leaves the busy emergency room.
Daron has left.

Liste taps at her wrist, to her comunit. "Do you have a link? Like mine?" She 
  raises her wrist. "I'll bet we could program you one to remind you to eat 
  every few hours?"

Daron walks into Short Term Care looking for medical assistance.
Daron has arrived.
Daron returns with a bowl of peach ice cream, served with silces of fresh 
  peaches as well. "Here we are."

Tance now blinks at Liste, and frowns, clearly thinking hard, but Dargon's 
  arrival immediately distracts him. The moment the scent of peaches wafts in 
  with the medic, Tance suddenly lights up, his weathered face transforming. 
  "Peach," he croons, giddily.

Daron hands the bowl over to Tance, "Fresh Peach Ice Cream, per request."

Liste says "Hey, medic? See if you can't get him a comm bracelet, and gmaybe 
  get it programmed to remind him to eat every few hours.. with a message to 
  tell him to.. beeping won't cut it.""

Tance seizes the ice cream, and emits a short bark of happy laughter before 
  settling down to gobble it with surprising vigor.

Daron thinks, "Probably, but it does get quite annoying to the singer."

Liste says "But, he can't remember anyway, so he'll just wonder why is wrist 
  id beeping.. if it _tells_ him to eat, he might pay attention."

Daron shrugs, "I suppose it won't hurt."

Liste grins. "Eh, thanks.. you're not so bad."

Tance, apparently utterly enraptured by Daron's ice cream, blissfully inhales 
  spoonful after spoonful.

Daron watches Tance with a faint smile, "At least he likes ice cream."

Liste nods. "Complete food ice cream.. that'd be a ncie thing to have in the 
  machines."

Daron chuckles
Daron says "It'd probably taste wierd."

Liste says "Well.. I should be on my way, before I forget to write myself a 
  note to speak to Vyana about this person."

Daron nods, "Profitable singing, Liste."

Tance inspects the peaches that came with the ice cream in glee, before eating 
  each one.

Liste laughs, at that. "Wish it was." She waves to the ravenous Siner, not 
  expecting a response. "Be well, Tance. Enjoy."

Tance, by way of response, cackles happily, "Peach!"

Liste turns to go.. she offers. "Boysenberry!" and with that, heads out.
Liste leaves the busy emergency room.
Liste has left.

Daron glances out at the door then back to Tance then with a shake of his head 
  continues out.
Daron leaves the busy emergency room.
Daron has left.

[End log.]