HAND DELIVERED BY MESSENGER
COMM ID: Lt. Alvin Katz SCRA
LOCATION: Omega-52 Zvezdny Gorodok Звёздный городок
TARGET ID: Doc. Hoilday
Dear John,
I am not fond of open communications channels, especially for matters as sensitive as this, which is why I am having this hand delivered to your Ranch, and I will be as cryptic as I can, while still being clear.
Negotiations with our friends for the medical supplies we have been discussing have failed. However we have some other leads we are following up on.
I paid a sight seeing tour just recently, and managed to get some useful information while visiting a Bretonian system called Newcastle. The information will be uploaded to your computers when we can arrange a time to get together.
There have been some new developments, leads that have started my collection of souvenirs from various unsavory spots around Sirius. As per our arrangement concerning such things, you will be given access to said items in exchange you share any data you discover.
Friends who reside in domiciles out past Alaska, have actually been quite helpful with regards to this particular romp through the tourist traps. But they are in need of a Doctor, their own physician, Doctor Grahl is, I understand, is a guest aboard a Liberty Asylum Prison Liner a shame that he has popped his cork as it were, he might have a whole new perspective on the universe if you can tell me how we might be able to have some riparian entertainment involving a board and said Doctor, it would be appreciated, you are always very resourceful.
Any way, I wish to thank you for your continued friendship and wish you and your family well. Any reply can return with the scruffy looking lad that delivered this letter. He is reliable, though I am sure he reads the mail, thus the need to expound in vernacular that eludes someone of such limited lexical verbosity.
Lt. Alvin Katz
лейтена́нт Элвин Кац
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Sirius Coalition Revolutionary Army
Сириус Коалиции Революционера Армия
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The messenger is greeted at the Estate door by a man.
"Oi, Lad, how may I help you?" he asks.
"Sir, I have been ordered to hand deliver this message to Dr. John Holliday," replied the messenger.
The man at the door could only sigh and briefly hung his head. Then, he invited the man in and gave him a drink of his choice.
While the messenger drank it, the man disappeared momentarily and then returned with a young woman at his side. She was dressed in a doctor's outfit and wore a stethoscope. Together, all three of them left the Estate for the Canaria hospital on an estate truck which was really a re-fitted military vehicle. Little was said but the messenger knew by the silence that things weren't good.
Upon arrival, the three went to a room in the intensive care ward. The messenger's feelings were correct. There, asleep on a hospital bed with fluids in his arm was the John Holliday himself.
"Between his work load and past medical history," explained Kathy, the young doctor that escorted the messenger, "he has given himself a strong case of pneumonia."
"He won't die, will he?" asked the messenger.
"No, but he is being kept sedated until he's cleaned out," she answered.
The messenger held the envelope with the message in his hand but didn't know what to think.
"My orders were to hand it to him personally," he said.
"I'll tell you what, Lad," answered the doorman, "you can either return home or you can stay at the Tombstone and await him but John is in no position to be able to deal with that."
The messenger stood for a moment, looking at the sleeping doctor. He hardly knew the man but heard of his accomplishments. He thought to himself, "this man must get better. He has saved many and has many more to save."
He then turned to the doorman, "Does he have a vault or something safe that I can put this in? I'd like to stay and wait but I should update my boss and, well, he may be awhile yet."
The doorman nodded and returned them to the Estate. While he had no access to Doc's vault, there was a drop slot to where the envelope could be dropped. The messenger signed it and dropped it in. He then turned to the doorman.
"Your name, Sir?" he asked.
"Call me Grady," he answered.
"Very well, Grady, is there anything we can do?" he asked.
"Yes," he began, "Doc's wife, Midori, needs to come home. She was last seen in Stuttgart doing some spiritual work and she's been off of coms. She doesn't know about John."
The messenger nodded his head in understanding. With that, he boarded his shuttle and returned to Omega 52.
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