April 20, 2080
Biblis Patera Hospital, Colony 5, Mars
Joe's large, bearded nurse walked towards him, looking more mournful than usual. "You gonna talk to Granger's family, looking like that?" Taggert said.
"Like what?"
"Dude. Your shoes."
Joe stared down at his stockinged feet and wiggled his toes. "At least I remembered my pants."
Taggert winced, remembering when Joe forgot that little detail. "Look" he said "I feel shitty about Granger too. But you get shot in Pavonis, you're a goner."
"My first patient was shot in Pavonis. He survived."
"The drones picked him up ‘cause he’s a Breivik Boy. They run the air taxis." Taggert's eyes narrowed. "Nazis ain't gonna save a Coonass."
Taggert’s cold tone of voice sent a shiver down Joe's spine. Taggert was a reformed Breivik, but how reformed was he? “Do you think …?” Joe said as a howl of despair echoed in the Waiting room.
Running in, they found Granger’s wife keening on the floor, her young sons crying. One glance to the holo-screens showed why — YouNews was broadcasting a vid of the attack. In full 3D motion, Granger clutched his bloody stomach and fell, his body twisting as it was blasted by more shots. Granger’s youngest screamed as a holo-shooter jumped over his father’s bleeding body and gave the Breivik 'Seig Hiel' salute. “Imperial Wizard Baloq will rule! Look how easy the Coonasses fall."
The YouNews anchor appeared in front of the vid and said "We recognize this as a Breivik Boy action, as is evident from their superior production values. Look at the enhanced colors, the deep red of the blood..."
Joe grabbed Taggert's arm. "Shut that shit off!"
Taggert was already on it. His twitching eyes called up another channel, easy listening tunes. An ancient singer trilled "People who need people, Are the luckiest people in the world" as a barrel-chested man standing in the corner of the Family room shouted "The Mud People will never take our land. Never!" His Nazi salute revealed his Aryan pride tattoo, a white cross on a green square.
Joe grabbed the Nazi's meaty wrist. "Get your goddamned hand down!"
"Fuck you!" the man shouted, pushing Joe away. Then he noticed Joe's lab coat and lowered his arm. "Sorry Doc."
Nazis, ever obedient before authority. "My hospital is not a Nazi war zone.” Joe said.
"We're not Nazis." the man sniffed "We're Eco-nationalists."
"Apologize to this woman – those fascists shot her husband!"
He glared at Joe’s Star of David pendant. "Kikes think you can call anyone names."
With anger so strong it blurred his vision, Joe shouted "Get out of my hospital!"
The man didn't budge, his fat index finger thumped Joe's chest. "Dubinsky don't take orders from you."
Dubinsky? Joe was stunned into silence. His first ‘goner’, the one he did save, was Boris Dubinsky. A Nazi. And here was his Nazi brother, waiting to hear the good news. Despair curdled Joe's stomach but cooled his anger to the point where he could say "Mr.... Dubinsky. Your brother was – a real trooper. He pulled through. I'm certain he'll make a full recovery." Dubinsky gave a look of gratitude, but it was too late for that. "Now get the fuck out, you goose-stepping twat." Joe said.
Dubinsky slammed into Joe with his ample belly "I ain't leaving!"
Joe stumbled back. Taggert caught him. Dubinsky saw the remnants of Taggert's tattoo. "Sturmführer! You show the Jew who's boss."
Taggart stood up straight, towering over Dubinsky. "I ain't your fuckin' Sturmführer. One more word out of you, I call Security. They lost everything in Baloq's wars." That cold tone of voice again "They won't put up with your shit."
Dubinsky shuddered. Slouched away. "I'll go. But Doc Joe... Bubelah...." His Gizmo glowed. "I will remember you."
Knowing he was being recorded, knowing he would wind up on the Breivik message boards, Joe extended his middle finger in front of Dubinsky's bulbous nose "Remember this."
Dubinsky kept recording as he walked out the door.
As the door shut, Joe took a deep breath and counted to ten. Tried to cover his anger with a gentle, good doctor face. He patted the widow's heaving shoulder and said "Mrs. Granger. Your husband... was a real trooper... but..."