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Resuscitation

Resuscitation


(This is my second story from the series “Mr. Senior Consultant”, published on Habr.)

A fire burned through the darkness of the forest. She crawled through the next plexus of branches and went into a small clearing. The soft sound of a guitar and a dozen people leaning towards a fire. Music. The guitarist took the next chord, the girls pressed closer to the guys, and a little space formed around the guitarist. There she dived. The song was sad: Love, betrayal, enemies, struggle and death. Snowflakes circled from the darkness, couples around the fire hugged, pressed from the cold or from passion for each other.

She hugged the guitarist, ran a hand through his stiff gray hair. He started, the rhythm was slightly lost, but he went, he went, and the guitar began to play even a little more confidently and louder.
The melody ended, he turned and examined the stranger. Snowflakes on hair and even in eyelashes. It seemed that this surprise and calm, rushed about, reflecting off the pupils, until it was finally absorbed somewhere deep in the reflections of the fire.

“You haven’t dreamed for a long time,” he said thoughtfully. - For ages. And every time I dreamed, I flew out of sleep like a cork from a bottle. A clap, a few noisy bounces, and only then like a forehead against a wall. And now ... ”He shook the snowflakes off her curl. “I almost control this dream.” Previously, this did not work out. Well, how will I drag you into my tent? He squinted slyly.

“Take it away, take it away,” she pressed her palms to his face. Cold, almost frostbitten cheeks. Such familiar unshaven cheeks. - Let's go? And then drag it wherever you want.
They walked along a thin layer of snow, and from the sky began to fell and fell down in huge, sticky flakes.
Suddenly, she stopped him, looked into his eyes, straightened her bangs and glared at his lips with a long, and very childish kiss.
His eyes widened slightly and his gaze became agitated, frightened.
“Is this a dream?” I have never had such dreams.
She smiled sadly. - And if not? Maybe we really are in the forest?
- No, wait. Let me remember. The last thing I remember - I went to bed. Like a dream. Although ... wait. I woke up. It was bad, I was thirsty, and it seemed that I was about to vomit. I went into the kitchen and then ... I sat down, it got worse, and then ...
- And then you got worse.
He thought for a moment. No, I wasn’t afraid, but from the look it was clear that the mind requires an explanation.
- I died?
- No. Until he died. But, your life functions weaken. The second week of your coma is coming to an end. If you don’t get out today ... You won’t get out at all.
“Can I stay here with you?” I would be happy ...
- No. If you die, staying here will not work either.
He sighed heavily.
In the distance the light of another bonfire was breaking through.
“You need to go there.” It will be difficult to go. Branches, snow, you may fall down to the very neck. But you have to go and have to go.
He looked doubtfully at the distant light. - And you?
- And what about me, I came here to get you out. I am that, or what you have dreamed about all your life, whom you painted and represented in your dreams and in your notes. I am the spirit of your photos, comments and hidden desires. Only I can get you out of here. Go already.
“Although ...” she turned him around and pressed her lips with force. She pressed herself with his whole body, trying to remember every moment, every microsecond, every look, every snowflake on his face.
He stomped heavily through the snowdrifts, wading through the bushes, his legs knee-deep in the snow
- You must really want to come back to life! she shouted into his back. - Very, very want! And also, have a girlfriend, you moron, you’ll die the next time!
“And I ...” she said it with her lips, so that he certainly wouldn’t hear it. “And I love you.” Otherwise it would not work. It only works that way. Damn tales of sleeping princesses. What the hell to all of you read them in childhood. - She turned and went back to the fire.
The deafening, literally exploding brain, light, cut through the eyes. Something squeezed and hit in the chest. Then again. - Another discharge! It seemed to shout directly into his ear.
His chest unbearably pricked and he fell into reality. People rushed around, a mask on his face, apparently oxygen.
-So, he’s coming back, unhook the resuscitation unit and the neurointerface, go to intensive resuscitation! - The medblock on his arm purred and injected another cocktail into his hand. Painfully.
- Sasha, everyone, move to the intensive care unit six, there is a new patient. Introductory entries are already arriving, there is a connection to facebook and instagram, the search engine has collected the profile, grab your cart and drag it there, one leg is here, and I personally will tear the second off to you if after 5 minutes you don’t start immersing it in VR.
Tourists have already scattered around the tents and their voices have been replaced by whispers and fuss. She sat on the same stump where he had just been sitting. The stump was still warm. She picked up the guitar and walked her fingers along the strings. That was her song. And his song. It was their common song that they had not sung together for many years. The strings trembled, her voice sounded sad and distinct, spilling over the entire clearing, and maybe the whole forest. In the tents they were quiet for a long time, the fire was extinguished, but she did not notice this. She looked into the fire, her hands continued to sort out the strings, and she roared, roared and roared.

It was so unlike the standard cloud model AI-Med7-BP ver 1.14. It didn't look like anything at all.

Afterword


A week later, Mr. Senior Consultant woke up in the intensive care unit and did not hear the usual noise from the corridor. Somehow getting out of bed, he went to the door and opened it. The corridor was empty. Although ... At the end of the corridor lay a body in a biological protection suit and a full-face mask. The body did not move. “Arrived,” Mr. Senior Consultant thought, quietly closed the door and lay back in bed.

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