Daughter of Zeus ✔

3.2

By the time Ada arrived at Tranquility, Gemina's surgery had concluded. Ada learned this after getting a status update from the doctor.

"Your mother survived the surgery." The doctor was a small man. His dark skin sagged, and he used his hands to gesture with almost every word. "However," he adjusted his glasses before continuing, "her old heart is barely keeping her alive. She'll need to stay hooked up to a machine indefinitely."

Ada responded with silence. She knew if she spoke, literal sparks might fly.

The doctor pressed on, "The indefinite part is up for debate. With your mother's advanced age, she could last weeks, months, or even days. It's hard to say. You can go and see her. Make sure to visit the payment center before leaving."

Before walking away, he gave Ada an awkward pat on the shoulder. He smiled and advised her to purchase the latest model of the Clean and Clear. He tapped his interface, assuring her that he had just sent a 20% coupon to her device. She didn't notice when he left. The fog from earlier threatened to overtake her.

Kressick was seated in the waiting room. He was crying. Ada was too angry to cry. How could the State take a heart back? Why offer a synth if repossession was an option down the line?

These were questions Ada asked of Kressick. He ceased crying long enough to answer her: the State felt repossession to be a fair clause, because if they took back a synth, they graciously gave back the old merchandise at no charge to the customer. The State saw it as a second chance to live, even if the chance came with a short expiration date.

Kressick urged her to visit her mother, and Ada blankly nodded, going to the room number he'd given her. Upon entering room 112, Gemina seemed on the verge of expiring. Her brown skin had faded to a duller yellow. Her hair, usually thick, dark and lovely, was spread out on the pillow in thin clumps. An inch above her hospital gown, a jagged line started at her chest, leading downward. Only hours before, Gemina had been active, vibrant. Nothing like her current shrunken state.

Ada's hands crackled. She told herself to calm down, but the crackling barely abated.

"What's wrong with yer eyes?" the patient in the next bed drawled.

"Nothing." Ada shoved her hands in her pockets, directing her eyes at the floor.

She stole a glance at Kressick, but he was in the hallway, speaking with the payment department. He kept gesturing, his movements fluid, but growing more and more agitated. A woman stood beside him, and Ada recognized her as her mom's church pal, Cybil. She had come over for dinner a few times.

Currently, she was arguing with the attendant, same as Kressick. The care they exhibited set them aglow, and they looked glorious. In that moment, Ada loved them both. She didn't know them that well, but that didn't matter just then. She counted her mom lucky to have such friends, wetness stinging her eyes.

"Mom?"

Gemina didn't move. A tear slipped down Ada's cheek, landing on her mother's bed sheet. She reached for her mother's hand, but was stopped by the patient in the next bed. He grabbed Ada's arm, dropping it just as quickly with a curse.

"You shocked me! Jesus-tits, that's not normal!" The man's lined face puckered with rage as he cradled his arm, eying her accusing.

Handling it carefully as possible, Ada closed the curtain to separate her mother's area from the other patients. Her actions singed the curtain, though minimally. She knew it was too soon to try to touch her mother. Her emotions were out of control, and in her mother's delicate condition, one small shock could be fatal.

As she stared at her sleeping mother, Ada resolved to concentrate on what could be fixed.

She patted the satchel of bills she'd brought, slung to her back.

"I'm gonna fix this, mom," she whispered before leaving the room.

~ * ~

"What do you mean? She only owed five-thousand, and I have five-thousand." For the second time, Ada pushed the bag of money at the attendant, and for the second time, the attendant slid the bag right back.

"She owed five-thousand on the first synth, yes." She click-clacked on an old computer, squinting at the screen. "For a new synth and install, the cost is 6 million dollars."

Kressick scoffed. He stood beside her, one hand on her back. She shook him off, even as she secretly acknowledged the power of his calming presence.

"That's ridiculous. Her first synth didn't cost that much." Ada motioned around her. "And this isn't even a State hospital. How the hell can that be the cost?"

The attendant held up her hands. "I don't make the prices. The cost updates each year, along with install techniques." She shrugged. "Everything adds up. And default on past payments places a risk factor on a second loan for your mother."

It all sounded simple, and damn reasonable. Ada chose to react very unreasonably.

"Fuck cost. Put that in your shit computer!" She slapped her palm on the glass wall separating her and the attendant.

In her racing mind, she imagined her mother's file, switching the cost from 6 million to PAID. In the next second, the computer fizzled out, smoke escaping from the screen.

"What just happened?" The attendant stepped back from the machine as if it were set to explode next.

A man behind Ada and Kressick backed away to the wall. He cowered as Ada passed by. Kressick offered the stranger a gesture of supplication, along with a mouthed "So sorry."

Ada didn't notice the commotion her outburst had caused. She walked briskly to her car, her mind wrapping around other ideas to help her mother. An ATM wouldn't work. Undoubtedly the machine wouldn't have enough funds available for one withdrawal, digital or not. Kressick, while well off, didn't have six million dollars at his disposal. The limitations of her options weighed on her chest.

On top of everything else, Ada would be forced to delay her trip. She hated that she thought that way, but there it was, more ugliness bubbling to the surface.

Behind her, Kressick still followed, promising to help her in any way he could.

Her mood improved at his words, and she assessed him with new eyes. It wouldn't take long to find a solution to her mother's problems, especially if Kressick helped. Or, she could come back, and try overriding the system when she wasn't so emotional.

A week at the most, and Ada would be able to leave.

A week.

A/N: If you like the story so far, keep smashing that vote button. Go on. I won't tell anyone.