"Patient on Neveil Street." Patrick's voice was hoarse, as it has always been.
The profuse amount of alcohol that he had consumed yesterday was a real blow to his throat. In fact, as a paramedic, he knew better than to drink every night at the bar, but he convinced himself that it was necessary. He had always believed that stress from work was much more threatening than any damage beers and cocktails could do. Mervin, who was sitting at the other side of the ambulance, simply rolled his eyes without saying anything. Patrick gave him a sympathetic stare and turned to look at his reflection on the window the same way he looked at his partner.
On Neveil Street resided some of the poorest citizens in the states and their living conditions were, more than often, vile. Most paramedics would avoid stepping into the area considering how treacherous and filthy the place is. Mervin, being a fellow paramedic, had never entered this terrible neighborhood and he was not planning to anytime soon. However, it would seem it was finally time for him to explore what Neveil Street had to offer.
"You heard it, tinhead!" Patrick hollered across the vehicle as he straightened his thick back.
The android driving, which was designed to look like a boy about 20 years old, steered the wheel and took a sharp right turn upon the human's command, its face devoid of any emotions, just like how regular androids were supposed to be. Thrown off by the sudden turn, Mervin's angular face contorted, his squeal synchronized perfectly with the screech of the tires.
Infuriated, he protested, "For fuck's sake, A173..."
Every android bore a production number for the convenience of tracking and recalling. The number A173 indicated that this particular android was one of the earliest models produced by Antic Corporation. Running low on funds, the government had no choice but to keep on using these prototypes for public service.
The ambulance darted through the city streets like a white flash of lightning. The pedestrians gawked at the sight of the vehicle. They were probably surprised that an ambulance would even appear in places like Neveil Street. If anything, public healthcare was not a public service. It was more like a luxury for people who could, at the very least, afford to fill their stomach with three meals a day.
The ambulance arrived at the scene about five minutes after the call. As the white van ground to a halt, Patrick and Mervin hopped off their seats and waltzed to the back of the vehicle to fetch a stretcher.
"Ugh, Merv, can you smell that?" Patrick masked his crooked nose with his left hand, leaving the stretcher hanging on three arms.
"This place smells like a giant pile of garbage." Mervin gagged.
Soon Mervin was hit by a massive wave of regret, not because the caller, a fat man in a yellow shirt, had heard his remarks, but rather for the fact that his lungs were now burning from the terrible reek as he drew in a breath to speak.
A173 was the last to step out of the ambulance. Prototypes like itself did not have any olfactory implements so the garbage-scented air did not bother it for the slightest bit. Quietly, it stood there and took in its surroundings. In front of it sat a three-story building made with concrete. Graffiti sprinkled the walls like shells at a crime scene. Tilting its head up toward the sky, A173 started to wonder how people could see what was happening outside as it observed the stained windows. They were covered with grit and dust due to their owner's long-standing negligence for hygiene and cleanliness.
A73 decided it has seen enough when his gaze fell on the dreadful face of the caller. All color had drained from his face, leaving nothing but paleness on his dark skin tone. A173 started toward the man with a hasty stride and stopped exactly 1.5 meters in front of him, who threw a disdainful glance toward A173.
"Sir, may I ask how did the accident happen?" A173 inquired in a rigid, monotonic voice.
It seemed incapable of producing any sounds that could give the slightest hint of emotion. Perhaps it was intentional. The idea of keeping these androids distinguishable from humans had been a pretty paramount concept when the robots were designed. There were, of course, more benefits than being able to tell androids and men apart in making these robots seem inhuman; the researchers were well-aware of the danger of producing androids that shared too much resemblance with men, but Antic had refused to shed light on that topic.
The man opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, then swallowed whatever he was going to spit out back into his stomach.
A faint blush grew on the man's face as he slowly let out a sigh, "Can I talk to a real human? To be very honest, I don't really think androids are up for this job."
A173 was used to hearing that complaint that the man has just spat in its face. A lot of people still could not get over how androids stole their jobs and had a real hatred for anything remotely resembles a robot. It was 2084 and there were still protests across the states about the use of androids even though everyone knew, deep down, that the androids had completely taken over the job market.
A173 turned around and observed its two partners. They were unfolding the stretcher and were tossing the patient, who was a little girl no more than 7 years old, onto the instrument. The girl let out a painful whimper as she landed on the stretcher like a sandbag hitting the ground.
A173 faced the man once again and replied, "I fear not, sir. We are but a three-man team and my partners are tending to the patient."
"More like a two-man team..." The man murmured and sucked in another breath direly as though his lungs were screaming for air before continuing, "Guess this will have to do. Uh, right, so it all happened in a flash. I don't exactly know what happened, but I was fixing the window when my daughter decided she was gonna come over and watch what I was doing. She was leaning against the window sill when the whole fucking thing collapsed. She slid right out of the window frame and came crashing down to the ground... Fuck, I don't know..."
This was one of the many benefits of having an android as a paramedic: no stories were too convoluted for them to put down on record. The man could actually see the eye of the android twitch a little as it transferred the data to its internal storage. He was slightly revolted by the jerking movements, which added to the long list of reasons why he disliked androids.
Spinning on its heels, A173 saw that Mervin and Patrick had already taken the patient onto the ambulance. The injuries the girl was suffering from must be pretty catastrophic since even though A173 was at least 30 meters away from the vehicle, it could still hear the little girl's horrible wail. It was 7 in the morning and those continuous shrieks of terror had bound to wake somebody up. The sun was peeking through the dense jungle of buildings and casting its comforting rays on the road. Pines trees were swaying in the cold breeze brought forth by the chilliness of winter. However, judging from everyone's grim expression, it would seem that A173 was the only one who had taken note of the beautiful sight.
"Perhaps you might want to come with us? We will be taking you and your daughter to the nearest hospital." A173 suggested with the same cold, metallic voice. It was regular procedure to ask the patient's family to tag along, which was something A173 never understood. What good does it do, it thought to itself, if the family chose to come along? The answer, from a very logical perspective, is that it does absolutely nothing, but it did not matter, for it was still a standard procedure. Androids were great at analyzing these kinds of questions, but they could never seem to find the appropriate answer, yet again, to A173, 'family' was nothing but a few lines of words in an online dictionary site.
The ride back to the hospital was quiet, except for Mervin and Patrick's occasional chatter about this season's lottery. The girl's cries had subsided, but the glum expression had not left the father's face. A173 could almost see the dark clouds above the man's head. Something about this whole scene tore at A173's mechanical heart. It could not tell what this feeling was, but it took a real hating for it. This weird, unintelligible emotion made it hard for it to concentrate on the road. For a moment the road seemed blurry and it felt like its robotic eyes were not functioning properly. This had never occurred to A173 before. It was fortunate that the researchers at Antic Corporation had not discovered this tiny little flaw that exists right within the heart of A173, or else it would surely be scraped and taken off the market.
It was 7:22 AM when A173 pulled into the parking lot in the hospital. St. John has one of the smallest parking lots in the state, probably because it was the closest to poor neighborhoods. The father leapt off the vehicle urgently and aimed for the admission register while the A173's fellow paramedics lifted the stretcher out of the ambulance. The two were so excruciatingly tired that they actually kind of dropped the stretcher on the floor with a bump. The little girl winced at the sudden fall and bit back a complaint. She dared not to mess with the paramedics, or any medical staff in general because she knew if she did, her stay in the hospital was going to be a hellish experience. She had not been to a hospital herself before but that was something she had heard from her dad.
Another set of blaring sirens drifted into the parking lot as the one on the top of their ambulance stopped. A small of group of paramedics and nurses rushed out of the vehicle and carefully rolled the patient, who was a boy of about age 12, out of the ambulance.
One of the nurses who swung the car door open eyed the three paramedics standing at the other side of the lot and yelled, "Pat, Merv, we need some help."
"Can't, got a patient at hand." Patrick shouted with a tinge of regret in his tone.
"Where's the patient from?" The nurse inquired as she threw her arms across her chest.
"Nevail." Mervin's voice was echoing in the parking lot.
"Oh, come on. We've got a bigger fish to fry. Just come over here. The android will take care of the girl." The nurse said unsympathetically. She was visibly annoyed and was waving manically as if she was one of those inflatable flailing tube man in front of gas stations. Mervin and Patrick gave each other a quick smirk before they headed toward the other side of the structure.
"You know the routine, tinhead." That was the last thing Patrick said before heading off.
A173 gently hauled the stretcher through the doors of the hospital. The place was almost empty; it has always been that way. Those who were rich would not come to St. John and those who are poor would patch up their wounds at home.
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