The Dreading Princess

Hannah looked out from the passenger seat of her car and she could already see the state of panic that happened in the largest hospital in Angkara. The medical people were donning a white-blue protective plastic-like suit, with masks and goggles over their faces, while the police officers were wearing their signature blue-green armor suits. She twirled her fingers on her lap and bit her lips, feeling a dread grew inside of her, because people who were not the medical staff or the officers were bare, without any protection whatsoever.

"I'm afraid Amalgamada will start again, Pater Julian," she said to the man beside him, who was her Aster priest.

"Which Amalgamada?" he responded, without taking his eyes off the Holy Book: Oi Ierés Theés Codex.

"The plague," she answered.

"What makes you think so, Hannah?" still reading the Book.

She exhaled slowly. Then pondered before finally answered, "look. There is a deadly gas being released, but the people don't bother to use any protections. It could spread."

Julian, whom she called 'Pater', closed the book and looked at her, "we don't know yet about the nature of this gas. I'm pretty sure it will dissipate. Don't worry."

She looked away from him to the hospital's parking lot, "let us hope so."

Their chauffeur brought the car deep inside the underground basements, passed the lines of other vehicles there to the spot provided just for her. She owned the hospital, and her parking spot was situated in a place where she could easily enter the main part of the building without requiring too many walkings. She could see that the door to go to the special elevator was now littered with several booths: spraying booth, then scanning booth, then the last was a booth to safely wear a protective suit. Five or six medical staff were stationed there to guide them through the process. The dread feeling now lingers.

Hellen and Julian walked through the procedures one by one. On the first booth, she was sprayed with some sort of sanitizing solution, on the second one she was scanned for any possible conditions, which would make her susceptible to worse condition if she contacted the gas inside the hospital, and in the later booth, there were robot arms who put the protective suit automatically on her, as long as she stood in a T pose and set her feet ajar, following the signs on the floor. She was given a yellow protective suit instead of white like the other medical staff, to signal her importance. She didn't think it was necessary, though, but said nothing about it.

She heard an alarm came from the scanning booth when she stepped outside the last booth. Julian was there. But then she saw that the staff were panicking and apologized to him for the technical errors. They shut the alarm off and gestured Julian to proceed anyway to the last booth. She felt odd about it but put it aside. She was here for a far more important issue. She learned how to compartmentalized facts and feelings inside, for later examinations. It was something her father taught him.

When they reached the main level of the building, she was greeted by the Director of the Dom Hospital, Dr. Makin Nassar, if she remembered correctly. He had two other people behind him who she couldn't recognize under all the protective measures. He bowed a little while welcoming her.

"We are in the safest level in the entire facility, Miss," he said when they started to walk down the hall.

"For how long, Doctor."

"We hope until this problem is taken care of, Miss."

"Do you have any projection of when this will cease?"

"I'm afraid it's too early to assess. This just happened last night," he answered, "we're still figuring out whether or not this is virus or bacteria or something else."

"I wish you could conclude as quickly as possible, Doctor," she wanted to say that it was her family name on the line if the case were spread. The gas agent was released and spread on her family properties: the gallery and then the hospital, but she chose to not say anything about it. Her father taught her not to show her fear to the world, especially when it was potentially read as a selfish fear: like the preservation of family name, for instance. She continued, "just make sure the whole facility quickly adapting the safety measure, so your staff will be protected."

"Understood miss," Dr. Makin said plainly.

"I'm afraid that this is Amalgamada all over again," she said. She realized that she showed her anxiety, but she couldn't help it. She heard a small scoff, she suspected it was Julian, who didn't think that this wouldn't be as acute.

"Amalgamada?" Dr. Makin asked, "You mean the plague? Oh no no. It was almost a century ago, miss. I'm sure this would easily be taken care of."

'Taken care of' was such a particular choice of phrase. She ignored it. She caught the doctor took a glance at Julian behind her and chose to ignore the subtle patronizing tone. She used to it, and taught to expect it because she was 'just a girl'.

"People would not take you seriously," she remembered her father's words, "because you're a woman. But instead of being offended by it, you should weaponize it."

"Yes. I believe in you, Doctor," she played along, "may Aster guide your efforts," Then, "but we have to discipline everyone who visits here. They came in droves and not wearing any protection."

At that, she saw a change in Dr. Makin's face. A dark cloud.

"Hmm… you have an explosion of patients?"

Now he didn't sound so patronizing, "y… yes, miss…"

"From the people who visited the hospital?"

"Yes. But don't worry. We will do…"

"…everything that you can to 'take care of it'. Yes, I heard that" she said, "I expect more of you, Doctor. Please do whatever necessary to contain the… condition."

"Yes, miss Domaney."

"Thank you," she satisfied to put the man in his place and change the subject, "now, you said you have something to show me."

"Ah yes!" he exclaimed. Another glance at Julian, "I apologize. Please follow me."

They followed Dr. Makin and his partners along the wide corridor. It was an administrative corridor, so she couldn't see any of the patients. She heard terrible things about it: breathing difficulties, heart attack, and those who were close to the source had their head exploded. It all sounded like the symptoms of the past plague, except for the exploding heads. Part of her wanted to see how horrible the patients' conditions were, but she was afraid that she couldn't handle it mentally. That dread, it wouldn't go away.