Medi

Medi awoke to a blue sky.  There was a peaceful breeze.  A flock of birds flew overhead. He tried to look around. Concrete obscured his view. Broken chunks of wall and ceiling. The building had collapsed. He was lying on his back. 

He pulled himself out of the rubble and rolled onto the top of the mound. There could be hundreds of people trapped beneath. 

Medi began scouring the debris, looking for signs of life.  His right arm lay limp by his side, broken.  He caught sight of a body draped in rags.

“I’m a doctor”, Medi called out. “I’m here to help”.

Hurrying over, he leant down to examine the body. A skull rolled out of the rags.  Inside the rags a heart shaped locket hung around a collar bone.  The breeze blew and the metal heart swung in an open rib cage.

There were other bodies.  Bones mostly, crumbled to dust.  Derelict structures lined the streets. Cars on the road had long been abandoned. Gardens were overgrown. Wildlife had reclaimed much of the city. Medi continued his search.  He was getting hungry, so hungry he was starting to slow.

A cry, out in the distance.  Medi snapped into action pushed on towards the sound.  He stopped at red droplets on the pavement.  Blood.  Damp. Fresh.  A survivor?  Not much of a trail, but it was something.  Medi followed the droplets into the remnants of a tower block.  There were voices around the corner.  More survivors?

“I’m a doctor”, Medi called out. “I’m here to help”.  A shot rang out, echoing through the ancient structure.  A bullet glanced off Medi’s chest, into a pillar. 

“Stay back”, came the voice of an old man.

“It’s all right,” said Medi. “I’m a doctor.  Are you wounded?”  The old man emerged from around the corner, staring down the sight of a rifle, the barrel aimed at Medi.  Then the old man lowered his weapon, revealing a weathered face with a curious frown.  He laughed.

“Hey, look at this”.  Two others rounded the corner, cautiously. A young man and a young woman.

“Is it safe?”, asked the young woman.

“Yeah, don’t worry”, the old man assured her.

“I’m sorry if I startled you”, said Medi.  “I ran straight in when I saw the blood.”

“Ran?” said the young man, glancing at the old man quizzically.  The woman looked confused.

“Why’d it say that?” Then she questioned Medi directly, “why’d you say you ran here?” 

“Well, I did run.  I wanted to help.  I’m a doctor.”

“You didn’t run here.” The old man chuckled.  “You got wheels for god sake”.  

Medi paused for a moment. 

“Have you suffered a head injury?” he asked the old man.  “I’d be happy to examine you”.

“Look at yourself!” the old man responded.

Medi tilted his head down and looked at his body.  Wheels where legs should be.  A metallic torso, dented from a bullet ricochet.  A bulky, robotic left arm. An empty socket where his right arm should be.  Why did he look like this?  This wasn’t right.

“It looks sad”, said the young woman.  “What’s wrong with it? 

“Looks like it had a building fall on it, it’s a wreck.” 

“He’s malfunctioning.” said the old man.  “They used to program them to have a bit of a personality.  Give ’em the human touch.  Seems like his electronics screwed up and now he’s all confused”.

Blood trickled onto the floor from the young man’s hand.  

“Let me help you”, Medi rolled forward.  The young man flinched.

“It’s okay.”  the old man reassured him.

“May I examine your wound?” 

The young man offered up his hand, cautiously.

“Just an accident.  Cut it on my hunting knife”.

“I see.  Would you like treatment?”

The young man glanced over at his father.  The old man nodded.

“Sure”.

Medi raised his bulky first over the young man’s open palm.  The robot hand transformed into an array of mechanical medical tools.  One of these tools sprayed a gentle cloud of antiseptic on the cut, another rubbed the wound clean.  A compartment in Medi’s metallic chest opened out to reveal a cache of medical supplies.  He took out a roll of bandage and wrapped it elegantly around the young man’s palm.

“Keep it clean to avoid infection.”  Medi reached into a shelf in his chest and took out a small container of pills.  He handed them to the young man.  “These will help with the pain.”

The young man and woman watched in awe.  The old man wore a bittersweet smile.

“I’m sorry to trouble you.”  said Medi.  “I’m very hungry.  Would you be kind enough to share some food”.

“You got no mouth, medi-bot”, said the old man.  “You’re a machine.  You don’t eat food.  Your batteries are running dry.  You need charging.”

A tear ran down the young woman’s cheek.  The young man looked down at the ground.

“Power grid’s been down fifty years or more.”  said the old man.  “I’m sorry. We can’t help you”.

The robot and the humans stood in silence for a moment.  The young man stepped forward and pulled something out of his rucksack.

“Wanna share?”  He reached out towards to Medi.  In his bandaged hand he held a tin of beans.

“You’re very generous,” Medi said, “but I’m starting to feel quite tired.  Perhaps we could have them tomorrow for breakfast”.  Medi was speaking slowly now, slurring his words.   The humans looked at one another.  The young woman hugged the old man.

Medi tilted his head down and fell into an endless, dreamless sleep.