No Easy Going: Chapter 1
Since the reception for the Prologue was really positive, here's chapter one for y'all!
Alcohol was the most infernal invention that humanity ever created. She hated it. The burn that it caused in the back of her throat was not a desirable experience. Dr. Naomi Withers's father left her and her mom to starve because of it. Naomi hated alcohol. Today was just another day for Dr. Withers in the hospital. A kid fell off of his bike and broke something here, a guy got shot there, someone has severe food poisoning over there, the same old-same old. She had a relatively slow patient flow today, maybe because people are trying to stay out of trouble for International Freedom Day, a holiday to mark the anniversary of the end of the freedom war. And also known to her as Drunk Fest 2056. She would rather stay away from the city center tonight, as a rowdy crowd was already gathering down the street.
A small sign over the main entrance announced the name of her workplace. New York Central Medical. She made her way through the lobby. She saw a family anxious to see a patient, and other doctors buzzing around. on the balcony over the lobby, she had a clear view into the staff cafeteria, where doctors and nurses were wolfing down their meals so they could get back to work. No medical staff lingered to chat at NYCM. She approached the security guard at the entrance checkpoint.
"Good morning, Herman." She said to the mildly overweight guard sitting behind the counter.
"Same to you, Dr. Withers." Herman responded, offering a smile. He buzzed her through.
She made her way to the staff elevator. The surgical wing where she worked was on the fifth floor. She waved her ID card's QR code in front of the scanner. The elevator obliged as the soft hum of the motors signified the car was moving down to her floor. The elevator opened with a beep, and she stepped inside. The doors closed as she selected 5 on the elevator's keypad. The elevator went up. As the elevator stopped at it's assigned destination, she got out and walked past the surgical wing's reception area. She didn't need to greet anyone here.
"Ah, good morning to you, Dr. Withers." her overseer said. The English accent wasn't fooling anyone.
"And to you to, Mike. What's my schedule like for today."
"I'm afraid you have some rather 'intriguing' cases today.", Mike responded
"Oh no. How bad?"
"Well, your first patient is rather an interesting emergency, as he has somehow gotten a leaf blower stuck in his anus." Naomi suppressed a laugh. People can come in with all sorts of things up their ass.
"Next on the list is the stomach tumor removal surgery for Mr. Danvers."
"It's about time he came in. He's been putting the thing off for weeks."
"And thirdly is-" Mike's communicator beeped. He was needed elsewhere. She could review the case files on her own. "I'm terribly sorry, I have to respond to this. It's urgent. I'll let you review the rest of the cases by yourself.
Mike passed off the clipboard to Naomi. She looked down at it. The rest of the cases would have to wait. The foreign object removal would have to come first.
Goddard Memorial Observatory and Asteroid Collision Avoidance Center, Somewhere off the Californian Coast
The surf slowly crashed against the sand, creating one of mother nature's many lullabyes. One thing Dr. Shawan Venkman loved about this place. The aging astronomer leaned over the balcony, breathing in the night air. He chose this job mainly because of the fact that it wasn't too noisy, and thus easier to get a good night's sleep. But of course, no tranquility lasts forever.
A shrill alarm pierced the quiet sunset, and he ran back inside to the main Observatory room, where all the other residential personnel had gathered, numbering at about five. The commotion's cause was evident. Displayed across every monitor in bright bold block letters were the words "PLANETARY PROXIMITY ALERT" The telltale sign that an Asteroid was on its way.
Only three questions were appropriate to ask:
One. How many?
Two. How fast?
Three. How soon.
"So, what are we looking at?" Venkman said. A technician sitting at a terminal said "About six different asteroids. They all measure less than a mile In length and width, but still a threat.
"How did the satellites not pick this up sooner?"
"They just appeared, and they are only three days away from impa-"
"Three days away?" Venkman asked.
"Something's not right." The technician responded.
" What do you mean 'something isn't right'"?
"You're not gonna believe this, but the asteroids just stopped."