Episode #12: Inconvenient Refugees 12 : The hospital

Jan,06 2026

<-#11: Inconvenient Refugees 11: Sara and Brahim#13: Inconvenient Refugees #13 : Leaders ->

I always stop in the first place when I get to the hospital without a clear meeting: the cafeteria, so I can peek at Cathy working. There is something just amazing about seeing her cook in that kitchen.

It's not at all like Brahim and Lucy. I think it was Lucy who had explained it to me, because when Cathy did, I couldn't wrap my head around the differences.

Lucy, and now Brahim, cook to try to convince people to come back. They make delicious meals full of taste and originality.

Normally, you need to convince people to take their hard-earned money, but we don't have money. What we have instead, is a system of rotation.

There is nothing formal. If someone wants to get to the main restaurant every day in the middle of the afternoon for a cheap meal, no one will bat an eye.

The problem, is that you can order anything on the menu. If you come every day for a T-bone steak, you will get a visit about moderation. About taking your fair share.

It might even lead to being banned from the restaurant. We can do that, but we never needed to.

But come in once in a while because you want to celebrate something? Well, that's what the restaurant is about. And we don't check. We trust our people, until they abuse.

And yet...

Julio works hard in the shipping dock. He is one of our hardest workers, and honestly, if the shit hit the fan, he might be one of our front-line soldiers. He does have some experience as a grunt, even if he was discharged for an injury during training.

Well, Julio eats most of his suppers at the restaurant, and no one complains. Why? Because of his approach. He doesn't just go on and ask for food. He comes in late and asks what might spoil, and if there is nothing left, he just goes home and cooks something on his own.

Most people learn to share by using special resources sparingly. He found another way, and I respect him for that. Even if Lucy often lies to him and still gives him food that might be easily preserved. Asking a cook not to feed a customer would be like asking me not to make sure everyone is safe.

But Cathy, she has an entirely different role! There is a reason hospital food sucks. Patients might have a high salt problem or might have had interactions between fat and their medication. And that's not counting diabetics who can't have much sugar. She can't cook for each patient, so she cooks for all of them. Saltless, sugarless, spiceless, almost tasteless food, but in industrial quantities.

And she is smiling while making it.

I wave at her when we make eye contact, and she waves back, but we know not to actually talk or neither of us will get anything done.

I run into the new male orderly in the ER, helping a patient in a wheelchair that I am unfamiliar with. He is wearing scrubs and salutes me when we cross but is otherwise stuck in a long conversation with the patient.

I forgot his name, and it doesn't seem to be the time to ask him.

I get to the maternity ward, where I learn that one woman from the French zone delivered a baby girl that morning. That's great news!

The birthrate around the world has dropped, but in our little naturist free zones, it is climbing. That lady, Cathy, and so many other women are pregnant right now! We might need bigger houses.

I find the baby in the arms of the new orderly, who is nude and softly singing to the baby in Arabic while feeding her a bottle. She is walking back and forth down the maternity ward.

"Hey"

"Hi Dave, this baby needs to be walked to drink. Not even 1 day old, and already they show their personality"

"And you got to do it?"

"It's my job. Well, a nurse did the first, but now, I am on bottle duty, all while caring for the mother"

"And you and your husbands are doing well?"

"Wonderful. And our son too. Julia is amazing. A little weird..."

"She is. Well, I am happy you are doing well. And the nudity?"

"It's fine. I always felt like I had to cover myself too much. This is like an overcorrection of years of being told to be modest"

"Well, not that we are being immodest"

"No, I suppose not."

I thank her, speak to the nurses to make sure everyone is ok, and can't locate the doctor. Of course I can't. Where do they hide?

It's weird because I know the free zone inside and out, but the hospital still has secrets for me.

Amira

When I go to find the chief of staff of the hospital, I find Amira with her 8-month-old son, sitting on a chair. He is asleep in a stroller.

"Dave", she says, in a low volume.

"Hi Amira, are you feeling better today?"

"The pain is gone, and I have medical news"

"Want to talk away from your son so he can sleep?" I propose.

We walk a little away, but still within visual range.

"The doctor came back and proposed I do some tests. He spoke to the vaccine manufacturer, and I have some answers"

"Oh, interesting. That you like?"

"Not really"

"Oh. It's permanent?"

"It is. But my hair is unaffected. And my eyes, so it's just my skin"

"But your lips seem better"

She raises an eyebrow. "Dave, it's makeup"

"Oh, right. Sorry. Well, that's a solution"

"I can't put makeup all over my skin, Dave."

"Why not?"

"Ok, let's say I do. And we find a foundation that restores my skin color. It means I have to apply it every day? And what if it rains? Or I sweat it away?"

"Right"

"No, I'll need to just learn to accept it. I know I turn heads; it's apparently a very desirable skin color"

"But it's not yours"

"Well, it's mine now, whether I like it or not"

"So what are you waiting for?"

"My discharge. The doctor is waiting on a final confirmation from the vaccine maker"

"Would you prefer to go home?"

"Well, I would prefer to know what my job is"

"Oh, I can do that, but only train you. You are still on sick leave"

"Ok, deal"

I interrupt the doctor, who confirms that she can go. They just wanted to make one last check. Apparently, there is an experimental antidote for the vaccine, but sadly, it doesn't seem to restore pigments. He was just waiting for their last answer about that.

So we left. And Amira told me about her talk with the psychologist. She didn't tell me which one she saw, but I got a feeling from the news I got. They have very different styles and approaches.

We made it to the overpass that leads to the British free zone, which itself is connected to more free zones.

"So, 99.999% of the visitors come from this bridge. The rest is from the main gate, but it's usually officials from Costa Rica"

"Or us, when we immigrated"

"Yeah, but you aren't really visitors"

"I suppose not"

Scott is on duty, I made presentations, and soon enough, he is explaining the system.

It's not complicated. The free zones share a fingerprint database of all citizens, of all the free zones. We get medical data too, while the British zone also gets education data, but otherwise, it's just a picture, a name, and the free zone name.

I put my thumb on the scanner to show Amira.

"But here there is no actual fence or border?"

It's Scott who replies. "Well, there is a gate in the middle of the bridge that we close. We have a padlock here", he says, showing a storage area in the console. "And the British have their own, but it's never closed. We have a hospital"

"So we just get people scanned when they enter or leave?"

"Pretty much. And control what they are carrying. Like, some free zones allow smoking, but we don't. So we search every bag, every purse, so no tobacco products get in."

Amira smiles. She was in an anti-drug squad, and, well, tobacco is a drug!

"What about drugs?"

"Well, to be honest, most of the drugs aren't coming in; they are coming out"

"What do you mean?"

"We've had people try to smuggle pain medication for recreational use, so we need to search any bags and such and make sure they have valid prescriptions"

She smiles again. "Ok, I like that"

"There is just one exception to this", I say.

"Right", says Scott. "Every few weeks, you might have Genevieve come in, and refuse to have her bag searched. "

"Genevieve?", says Amira.

"The French zone minister of foreign affairs. She had diplomatic immunity, and will smuggle drugs. But not for recreational use. Some of her citizens need medication she can't get on her own. She buys them from us, but as an import, you know? Still, it's not exactly legal as per our rules. It's like a gray zone."

"Something like our laws doesn't allow medication to be delivered without a prescription?", asked Amira.

"Yeah. Most of our laws are still inherited from the USA, you know?"

"So, if this is for the hospital, does this mean I get the night shift, being the new one?"

I look at her.

"Well..."

"I wouldn't mind. I used to patrol at night. And if fewer people see me while I am copying with my skin color, it might help. I might want a day job when my son is older, however"

"Are you breastfeeding him?" I ask.

"You can't ask that of a mother", she says, outraged.

"Oh, sorry. I meant, do you need to feed him at night"

"Oh, no, I'll be fine. "

Scott speaks up. "Can I ask what is wrong with your skin color? You look great"

Amira rolls her eyes. "I was bleached by the skin cancer vaccine. I used to be a lot darker"

"Hey, my wife too", he says.

"She was?", I say, confused.

"Well, she is white, so it's less striking. I am also a little lighter, but perhaps 5%?"

"I am not the only one?" she says, confused.

"Hey, have Dave present you to my very pregnant wife. She used to like to tan and struggled too"

"What does she do for a living?"

"She is in the nursery daycare", says Scott.

"Wait, really? She could take care of my son while I am sleeping in the day and my husband is working?"

"Of course. She is very pregnant, though. When she delivers, someone else will handle your son"

We go find his wife, and I leave Amira with her. I do look at her skin, and she is paler than Cathy, but I thought it was natural.

Genevieve

I get home and find Genevieve in my living room, sitting on a towel.

"Genevieve..."

"Dave?"

"What are you doing in my house"

"We need to talk"

"I have an office, you know?"

"And I don't like going to it. This is better"

I roll my eyes and see that my coffee maker was used.

"You made yourself some coffee?"

"If you call that coffee. One of my refugees rejected the skin cancer vaccine"

I sit down. "Really?"

"I had a video conference with the maker of the vaccine. They want to fly them over to their offices. It's rare"

"I had a woman lose all of her pigments"

"Ok, that's rare, but in a different magnitude. It's their 4th rejection ever"

"That's it?"

"Yeah. But it might be fixable? Anyway, I need to fly them to their Geneva office"

"Well, do?"

"Dave?"

"Yes, Genevieve?"

"Only you can do that"

"No, you just call Costa Rica, and request a med-evac"

"I did. We don't have a full hospital. You do"

"Oh. It's because they are a refugee?"

"Yeah, and they are not letting them leave"

"I'll make a call."

I was about to say "nothing", but I had a new plan in mind.

"Genevieve, do you have a smuggling problem?"

She scoffs. "Stupid tourists"

"Do you know if others do too?"

"Well, if one of us has problems, the others do too. Most of us have a permeable border. We are so used to the fact that people can't hide things on their bodies that we tend not to look into hair, or for false purse bottoms or even anything inserted into"

"No, I don't want you to finish that sentence"

"Fair enough. We don't have a solution for it. And that's not counting stuff like cellphones"

"Right, you don't allow them for residents"

"But tourists know and bring them to get favors. It's annoying"

"I might propose an inter-free zone anti-smuggling task force for drugs and illegal contraband in a few weeks or months"

"Oh, I would like that. If we can find someone for it"

"Oh, I have someone. A former police officer in an anti-drug squad"

"I am in. We'll give him full diplomatic immunity if you ask for it. We certainly need it. Oh, and full visa privileges. Seriously, I think we are responsible for most of the smuggling. It's a great shame of ours"

"You need to better search tourists"

"Maybe you can train our people?"

"Yeah, perhaps we should. That can be a very positive step forward. Can I ask one more favor?"

"Sure"

"Can you stop letting yourself into my house?"

"Dave, that favor would cost you too much", she says, laughing as she leaves my house.

Amira again

I return to Amira and find her still in deep talks with Scott's wife.

"So, are you feeling better?"

"A lot more, thank you for introducing us, Dave"

"Well, I have more news"

"Oh?"

"You'll start as a border agent for now, but I have a job offer for you"

"I'm listening", says Amira.

"I was talking to Genevieve"

"Minister of foreign affairs of the French zone", says Amira.

"The very same. And we will start an inter-free zone anti-smuggling task force in a few weeks, at the next council event"

"Oh, can I be on it?"

"Be on it? We want you to run it"

She jumps up in joy. "Really?"

"Yeah, full diplomatic immunity, with a request to train people and the ability, perhaps, to recruit deputies and such"

She hugs me. She isn't supposed to, so I just gently push her away. "We don't hug.... you know"

"Sorry, I was overexcited. Ok, so this is... Could I get a gun? And a badge? And handcuff?"

"Like a tactical belt?"

"That could do."

"We'll get the task force approved first and see about that later", I say. But it feels good to see her smiling after how bad she felt earlier.

Cathy

I get home to my wife, who is in a great mood.

"We'll eat at the restaurant tonight"

"Ooh, a date to celebrate our news?"

"Yeah, and Brahim made us a great Beef Bourguignon"

"Oh, I love that. We don't eat a lot of meat, so I try to only get meat in amazing meals. I am in. Oh, I got my prenatal vitamins. Tomorrow, I'll get my test to confirm my pregnency"

"I'll be there"

"Dave?"

"Cathy?"

"You are in the Italian zone tomorrow, remember?"

I look at her.

"The electric project planning. I'll be okay"

<-#11: Inconvenient Refugees 11: Sara and Brahim#13: Inconvenient Refugees #13 : Leaders ->