FICTION: A Little Bitty Bigger World (Cont-3)

I fastened the personal jump harness carefully around my body, making sure the straps were tight. All I knew for sure is that this was going to be a difficult extraction, and with my luck I'd be dangling from the side of a rescue lifter supported only by the straps in a few minutes.

I slung the squat thick tube of the wire stretcher over one shoulder. About ten inches [*25 cm] in diameter and ONE METER ARE YOU HAPPY NOW AUTOCORRECT in length, it was designed to be easy to carry until you actually reached the patient.

This left both hands free to unfold, power up and operate the electric dirt bike. Power equipment was forbidden in wilderness except for use in emergency situations. I'd be getting jealous E-mail notes from trail riders and angry hatemail from ecofreaks for months . . .

I rode out in a hurry, throttling down a little on bumps and to make turns. Trail rehabilitation was someone else's problem.

"Big Basin IC, this is CALBANG 327 on medevac approach. Where is my patient, over?"

No need to subvocalize. "CALBANG 327, please view incident timeline. Patient is in Jameson Creek about two kilos north of first reported position. My ETA to patient location is 8 minutes. I can't pull a visual right now. Do you have penetrator equipment?"

That wasn't exactly true. I had a visual - of the trail maps. I did not have time to pull up an assets responding schematic. If I did, I might miss a turn or biff it -- and aside from my implanted skull weave, I had no protective gear.

"Negative, Big Basin IC, we have jiglift only. 50 meters of cable." [Yes, he said meters. For the two other old-timers who might read this and resent the metric system as much as I do, that's 150 feet [*45 meters STOP IT!].]

"Big Basin IC, State Parks, is a lifter with forest penetrator rig available?"

"Coast Guard San Francisco has a capable lifter ... unavailable due to national security mission. CALFIRE Sacramento has one, ETA 25 minutes."

"Please start CALFIRE's lifter on the way. This is going to be an interesting extract."

Interesting is a code word for hard.

By that standard, my trail ride was interesting. Had to dodge a couple of angry people, one of whom shouted "VANDAL!" as I whipped past.

The nearest trail got me about 50 meters from the creek.

I dumped the bike and hiked it.

When I saw what I saw from the side of the creek, I again didn't bother with subvocalization.

"Big Basin IC, I need ANLS for a presumed fall victim, unknown mechanism, exsanguation and evisceration. Difficult access due to heavy forest cover. I need at least two additional dismounts forthwith."

"CALBANG 327, we are ANLS capable but have no LZ and no crew certified on jiglift. We have three medic bots but all are rotary wing."

"State Parks Badge Number 3743 assuming Big Basin IC at Park HQ. CSAR Anderson, copy your last patient status. Ground medics on the way, ETA to Park HQ is four minutes, but time to you is extended."

"CALBANG, CSAR Anderson on direct. I am paramedic qualified but have no gear. Land a bot in the creek."

"Bots are rotary wing and unable to operate in foilage."

"Correction to my last. CRASH a bot in the creek, time now time now time now."

I was starting to get just a little bit frantic. We had gone from some time to no time at all.

My patient's life was measured by the blood flow starting to slow from his shattered body. I had called for ANLS, Advanced Neurologic Life Support, because the goal now was to save his brain and spinal cord.

Obediently, a medic bot above the treeline folded its rotor blades and fell, crunching in a shower of sparks in the creek bed.

I rushed to it, tapped my left bracelet on its hull, and all of its hatch covers which could, snapped open. Bots are dual purpose - their equipment can be used by the bot, either autonomously or under human control, or as I was about to do, the equipment can be dismounted and applied by a human.

A thick roll of creamy foam matting from a dispenser; a pressurized spray gun; a folded up set of aluminum tubing that looked like a bundle of metal sticks. These were the tools I needed to save his life.

I reached Billy. I will spare you the details of his injuries, except to point out that his femurs were both broken and jutting out of his thigh muscles -- a reliable sign of a massive impact. I ignored the bones as I rolled the matting out and stuck it behind his head and neck, making sure to press it lightly into contact with the exposed skin all along the spinal cord.

My holo display lit with a patient care graphic. The ANLS spinal cord external augment was on the job. It would carry autonomic signals past breaks in the cord, suppress pain, and transmit findings to the trauma surgical team now prepping many miles away.

I then unwrapped the cat's cradle of tubing and fastened it carefully around Billy's skull. It tightened itself. I heard little metallic clicks and humming, then the ZOT! and burning flesh of a medical laser. Blood started trickling out of a new hole in Billy's head - relieving the intracranial pressure of his massive head injury.

Then and only then did I apply the bandage foam to the bleeders -- Billy's neck, gut, both arms and both thighs. The bleeding outside stopped. The bleeding inside would continue until we could get him something better than first aid.

I unwrapped the wire stretcher and extended it. I now held a light but extremely strong litter, much like a Stokes litter of old. I slid it beside Billy and hesitated.

"Anderson to Big Basin IC, ETA on additional resources?"

"Anderson, be advised CALFIRE lifter has been diverted to injury capsule vversus pedestrian accident. Medic 5 ETA to you is 12 minutes by unpowered bicycle. No nearby vehicle accesses."

Crap. That far away capsule accident - almost certainly a suicide - had probably killed Billy.

No, wait. I have a crazy idea.

"Anderson to CALBANG on direct, emergency traffic, lift and displace at least one half kilometer north, immediately. Advise when clear."

A surge of power as the medical lifter roared north in a rush of turbofans. "Clear!"

I opened my backpack and drew my smartgun, thumbing it live as it sent maximum emergency signals to local and state police. Smartguns are serious business. Especially when you slide them to full combat power.

~Targeting. 10 meters below treetops.~ Then I opened fire. Each shot shattered a tree bole, causing the treetops to fall sideways. Instant chainsaw, just add asshole.

Eight topped trees later, I had a working gap in the overhead forest cover.

"We see it, Anderson, I can get a bot through that."

Obediently, the medical bot hovered near the litter and extended its grasping arms. A second bot - the last of the three - followed. Working together, the three of us safely lifted Billy to the stretcher and secured him.

The CALBANG lifter returned and dropped its cable. It dangled uselessly ten meters above the creek. Not quite long enough.

"CALBANG, emergency traffic, clear the area again, going to do a little more logging."

"Copy. Clear!"

This time I clocked the bases of the already damaged trees and they fell over, creating a huge mess but a working hole.

With care and skill, the CALBANG lifter dropped through the hole and this time the cable could reach.

The bots and I hooked up the litter to the cable, the crew chief of the lifter hoisted, and Billy was off to definitive care.

I was covered in blood. I motioned to one of the bots and it obediently sprayed me down, first with pressurized water and then with disinfectant.

"CSAR Anderson, Big Basin IC, be advised patient has been lifted and Jameson Creek LZ is clear."

"Jameson Creek doesn't have an LZ! Do you need assistance?"

"It does now." I powered down the smartgun. "Need surveillance and crime scene management for a complex crime scene, but I have two bots with me. Regret to report substantial environmental damage inflicted by rescue operation. No urgency."

"Uh...." Big Basin IC, now a State Parks ranger, was at a loss for words. "Copy."

There I sat for half an hour, on a shattered log watching the bots watch the scene, hovering and taking photos and tracing the path Billy had fallen down the side of the hill.

I took a deep breath. This is relaxing, right?

The shattered trees let some sunlight into the perpetual gloom. I could smell the freshly broken wood over the natural earthy smell of the creek, the sharp medicinal disinfectant, and a hint of copper from the blood.

Then a CHP lifter showed up and dropped two troopers through the convenient hole I had made.

At least they were kind enough to give me and the bike a lift out after grilling me for half an hour while inspecting the scene.

They even let me keep the smartgun.