Aeolia 4

It began with a note - ‘Need you in Aeolia. Come soonest. K.’
It came as something of a surprise to hear from Kaarl after so long, it must have been all of fifteen years and I wondered what it was that he suddenly needed me for.
We had been friends since about the age of 9. Before that I lived on a farm a few kilometres outside of Vintar but one night the place burned down taking both my parents in the ensuing collapse of the walls though not before my father had thrown me into the arms of the otherwise helpless crowd of other farm workers. After that I went to live in Vintar with Uncle Jerald (dads brother) and his new wife Aunt Clara. They ran the bakery in the village square next door to where Kaarl and his two older sisters lived with their parents who made a living by turning out the barrels and vats used for the local wine.
The last time I heard anything about him he had managed to wangle his way into the social elite of Aeolia and was busy making himself a few credits.
On the face of things it seemed a harmless sort of note but it led me a merry dance. If Kaarl had put his address on the bottom it might have helped. Or possibly not, things may well have happened as they did regardless.

I was currently holed up in Aquin. Not the most active of communities but a healthy one that at the moment nestles in a cove on Lake Deerhead. I say at the moment because the rather odd thing about Aquin is the fact that you never quite know where it is. – Aquin; a floating fishing village that drifted mostly around the northern half of the lake, which is really a small sea, and only pulled up to shore for trade but more often than not would simply send the catch by lighter and keep itself to itself.
The life was gentle and for the most part comfortable and I drifted along for a while, helping out when the nets were hauled and joining in the celebrations after a particularly good catch.
Shortly after I received the note Fate took a hand one evening during a game of cards. A dock worker seemed to think that because I was a newcomer it gave him the right to cheat. I confronted him and it led to a bout of fisticuffs that became a bit of a bar-room brawl. I was in danger of being overwhelmed by numbers when a large figure in a wraparound cloak stepped into the fray and clipped me neatly behind the ear caught me on his shoulder and carried me out onto the wharf.

I came-to as he lowered me onto the wet boards at the bottom of a lighter. He picked up the oars and deftly manoeuvred the boat away from Aquin and toward the looming forest on the northern slopes.
Now, Ayefgee is a strange old cove; in the nicest possible way, he does have some strange habits though. He doesn’t seem to live anywhere in particular but he knows everybody and always has a bed for the night regardless of where he is. He also gets about a lot quicker than anyone else and I haven’t figured out how he does it. One of his favourite tricks is putting in an appearance at meal times. Even if you decide to eat out he will be at the bar waiting. I first met him after leaving Vintar and my childhood behind to see what lay beyond the circling hills.

“Here,” he said, refresh yourself with this.” Ayefgee paused in his rowing and handed me a water bottle.
A few swallows and I felt almost whole again. “What was that in aid of?” I asked gently fingering my tender ear. “I would have been alright.”
“Perhaps. But I really don’t have the time to waste trying to persuade you to come with me and the fight provided a simple way to get you out.”
“Persuade? Why? What possible reason could there be for me to go anywhere with you?”
“There you are you see, asking questions already and we are not even out of danger yet.” He gestured with his chin over my shoulder.
I turned and saw that three men, the cheating Docker among them, were pursuing us in a lighter that skimmed across the water.
“They are going to reach the shore at about the same time as us.” I ventured. With two men rowing those things could really move. I had seen those Dockers at work and play, they knew what they were about.
“I had already worked that one out.” Ayefgee muttered as he leaned back on the oars. The sweat was showing on his brow as he put some more effort into his strokes. “It rather looks like you will get your chance to have a go at your brawling partner after all.”
I hadn’t thought of that but on balance I reckoned I could still take him. Pity about the other two though, they put the odds out of balance again. The gap between us had narrowed some more but very soon we were approaching the stony shore and as soon as we beached we abandoned the boat and scampered up the shingle to await our attackers.

They came three abreast and armed with stout clubs. Ayefgee searched through the voluminous cloth of his cloak and fetched out a walking stick with an interesting looking handle but I did not have the chance to look properly, “Take the man on the left, I will amuse the other two,” he muttered and moved away to my right. The one on the left was indeed the cheater and I looked at him as a fighter.
He was well built certainly but he had no spring in his step, he just came at me much as he had in the bar, slowly and with purpose. I started to circle just before I came within range of the club which he adjusted carefully in his hand and he smiled a wicked smile. I stopped suddenly and opened my mouth to speak watching him carefully. He stood more upright and relaxed slightly in anticipation of a speech.
With a spring I bounded past him and smashed a fist into his exposed jaw with my left hand. The pain was immense, my hand felt as though it had been dipped into boiling lead. Doubling back before he could recover I drove my foot between his legs and noted with some satisfaction that he melted like snow in spring. Slowly he fell to his knees and then on to his back letting go of the club as he hit the stones. I picked it up and helped consciousness to disappear for him by cracking it over his head. He let out a sigh and then was silent.
“I hope you haven’t killed him” Ayefgee muttered putting away his own stick. The two he had taken on lay one atop the other.
“Well I hope those two are still with us.” I retorted.
“Oh yes, they are just suffering the after effects.”
“Of what?”
“Being hit on the head with the business end of a stout walking stick of course.”
“Must be handy to be armed at all times.” I rubbed at my hand trying bring some feeling back into now the initial shock had gone.
Oh it is, let me see that.” He waved his hand impatiently so I let him look at the damaged limb. He fussed around in his cloak again this time producing a small parcel made from leaves. He unwrapped it and with one finger took a dab into the creamy substance that lay within then smeared it all over my hand and wrist. For a small amount it went a long way and at the end of it my arm felt as though it was growing so small as to not exist.
“Time to go, before they wake up. Have you checked their pockets?”
I was shocked, I was not a petty thief! “No I have not. And neither do I intend to.” I returned to the boat to retrieve my shoulder bag, so gallantly saved. When I turned back he was going through their pockets.
“How much did you lose?”
“I didn’t lose, I came out slightly ahead. He was cheating, that is how the fight started.”
“Was he? I don’t like cheats.” He picked up the last purse and checked its contents. Between the three of them they had a grand total of a thousand credits and Ayefgee poured them all back in the cheats purse and tucked it back into the mans pants. The other two he flung down beside the others. “When they discover that they have been robbed they might get a bit cross with him and delay any thought of pursuit. Let’s be going.” He stamped off towards the foothills and the shelter of the forest.
I tried to shake my arm into use but it refused to function properly and hung loosely by my side. I tucked the disembodied hand into my belt and followed.
Maps are a rarity in Aeolia and the few I had come across on my travels are indelibly printed in my head because I studied them so hard. I knew that Aquin had been moored on the western shore of Fawn Lake and that we had come ashore some distance from the nearest village of any size. There were a couple of very small settlements here and there but nothing to get excited about. The most we could hope for was a woodsman’s hut, if we were lucky.

Ayefgee picked up the pace as we headed north saying something about it being a nice day for a stroll. To me it was more of a chase, he never quite fell into step and I was always trying to catch up. The technique was effective though because when evening fell and I looked back I could see that we had been climbing quite hard and the lake was now far below us and away to our right as we skirted the western fringes.
My thoughts began to turn toward food and shelter and hoped the voiced suggestion would not go unheeded. Though whether he heard or not is a moot point. My arm began to come round and left it tingling and sensitive to the slightest touch so to try and take my mind off the ache I assessed the situation…

In the space of two days two fairly unpredictable events had thrown my shallow world apart. What the hell was I doing traipsing up the side of a mountain miles from anywhere and no prospect an early supper with a man who seemed hell-bent on walking all night?
And what was I going to do about Kaarls note? I didn't owe him anything, we had been friends as kids but had drifted apart and not seen or heard of each other for nearly fourteen years. We had not been really close. The last time I saw him was when he left Vintar to take up a job in Aeolia. A friend of his father had offered him a place as a junior clerk to handle his accounts due to failing eyesight. His father had long given up hope that Kaarl would follow in his footsteps and carry on the family business, even then Kaarl had been more prone to emptying barrels in preference to making them but he had already shown he had a propensity for numbers.
Ayefgee was his usual self. Well actually that doesn't say much, he is not your 'usual' person. I don't think he has a usual self at all really the closest I've seen is the mood he pervades as he strides ahead of me into the forest; purposeful, thoughtful, restless, quiet.
"Are we walking all night?" I asked, breathless from the enforced hard pace. I was definitely out of shape.
"No. Almost there now."
I should have guessed then that 'almost there' actually meant another three hours hard walking. When we did get 'there' it turned out to be the Woodsmans hut I had envisaged from the outset.
He was no slouch at making things relatively comfortable. A fire blazed when I returned with a skin of water and he had laid a rabbit on the table and was skinning it with dexterous strokes of a wickedly sharp knife.
After a quite delicious meal I demanded an explanation from him but in typical fashion he delayed any further talk by filling and smoking his pipe and then saying that the day had exhausted him and he needed sleep and talk could wait until morning.

Aeolia 03

It was just about noon when I crested the rise. Since mid-morning the climb had been steady but now it was over and I stood and gazed at the scene before me.
Two valleys met here forming a giant T and I stood at the corner of the crosspiece and upright, gazing down upon a lush forest that spread like a quilt across the slopes of the hills. On the far northern side of the crosspiece and running east to west, the mountains themselves rose from the floor of the valley, looming immensely all around. Scant vegetation could be seen here and there clinging impossibly to the almost vertical surface.
From my left a waterfall issued out from the mountains and cascaded downward to form a sizeable lake which in turn spilled out to the east in a raging, swollen torrent of water that raced below me along the valley floor.
I started down the slope into the valley that formed the upright of the T, which turned out to be a bit steeper than I thought so by the time I hit the bottom I was running in free-fall.
I slowed eventually and became aware of my surroundings. I had entered a forest of considerable age. The trees that stood around me had trunks of immense girth and the broken branches that littered the floor of the woodland bore layers of moss coated in moisture. I felt older simply by being there. I also felt that I was trespassing.
I became aware of the sound of water and in a short while I came upon the reason when I stepped into a boggy, grassy patch beside a fast running stream. Just across the stream a clearing rose up and looked a reasonable place to make camp for a while.
I took off my boots and stepped across. The water was cold but tasted delicious when I scooped a handful to drink. I began to forage around for firewood and see what food was available. The late autumn yielded a plentiful supply of berries and a few nuts and the lake when I reached it showed ample sign of fish.
I cast out a few lines and tied the ends to a tree in hope of the fish being hungry for the worms I unearthed and then continued my foraging, heading westward along the shoreline of the lake. At the far end of the lake the shore did a right-angled turn toward the mountains and there a few metres out from the shingle stood an island. Square(ish) in shape it looked like a box had been stepped upon at one end so it tilted upward, the high end facing into the sun that drifted ever lower as the afternoon progressed.
It came as a bit of a shock to discover that this ‘island’ bore signs of habitation. I rounded a boulder half the size of a house and discovered a cave entrance but no ordinary cave. This had been created by man. The walls were straight and the floor level and rooms led off to each side and at the far end it opened out into a wider area with a small window looking directly out to the east across the lake and on up the valley. A niche on one side held evidence of a fire having been lit. It had been a long time since anyone had actually been in the place but the very fact that it was here gave cause to wonder. Whatever the reason for it being here, it was a darn fine place to stay for a while.
Returning to the fishing lines I had cast earlier yielded a meal-sized fish and I set out a further trap for any passing rabbit. I then armed myself with as much firewood as I could carry and returned to the new-found home.
It wasn’t long before a plume of smoke rose up through the vent that had been made for the purpose and heat wafted out into the cavern.
Over the next few months I made the place very comfortable. A bedroom in itself was a luxury, a kitchen was undreamed of! A warm place to sleep, a place to store food, a place to fish for food and a place to hunt those that did not swim; what more could one ask ?
I began to get to know the area, the best runs for rabbit and deer. I learned the way of the lake, where to look when the weather cooled or where the fish sheltered when the sun warmed the surface. I began constructing a small canoe from the woods around me, trying to remember all I had learned way back then. Carefully selecting tree bark from the Birch that grew thick around the base of the mountains, trimming and shaving the framework. Sometimes I got it wrong and had to start over and sometimes it all fitted together and I learned as much as I already knew.
The seasons turned and the autumn display the trees gave made my heart sing with joy at the beauty of it. Winter arrived and the snow lay deep, lean times for those that had not prepared; My store grew less as the days passed and the traps remained empty and the fish vanished. Sometimes days passed before I was able to get out, blizzards raged and the snow got deeper.
When I was released by a milder spell the walking and hunting proved hard but I found enough to keep hunger at bay, always supplemented by the nuts and berries I had gathered and dried beforehand. Smoked fish and venison still could be found in the larder as the temperature began to rise and herald the Spring.

Cynics R Us

£12bn. Which is probably about 20 something billion dollars. It’s a lot of money isn’t it? Even if I work overtime I could not get close to that target.
The amount is astonishing but the fact that it may exceed that total is horrifying.

I am not a computer expert but I AM a computer user. At work I rely on them to produce information whereby the Operators (I work in a Switchboard) can identify who is on call for the various Medical and non-medical services that the Hospital provides. - It is worth noting that when I first started, this information was written out with one of those old-fashioned pen type things! This was a long laborious process that meant accurate copying of names and (phone) numbers. As anyone can see, the system has an immediate flaw; No matter how good you are, mistakes will happen.
So I got a PC and typed out the full list of on-call contact names (amounting to a couple of hundred). Then I designed a form that could be easily used by a simple drag & drop method and thus, a new era was born. We dragged ourselves into the twenty first century.
Life became easier. The Operators gave thanks for a clear, legible sheet of paper with clear and concise information. True we still rely on the various Departments to supply us with rotas and timetables of the said information, but overall the system works well and we are happy to go with it. I have even gone to lengths to design and build a Database (via Microsoft Access, that gives more information than is actually required.
However, enough about my part.
Government. They are ultimately responsible for the NHS (National Health Service). The dear old Department of Health. Bless ‘em. Sitting in their ivory towers without a clue as to what goes on in the real world… They decided one day that what was needed was a Super Duper Computer System that could record and hold ALL Medical Records for everyone in the Country. All Hospitals will need to sign up to it and it will allow a Doctor In Scotland to gain access to a visiting patient from Cornwall’s’ medical records. Wonderful. Think of the advantage. No more cumbersome, bulky folders of notes written in dubious handwriting. Instant access to x-rays or notes at the touch of a button. Ahh, visionary!
Go for it they said. Let the bits and bytes beckon as bids are brokered.. Contracts were handed out. MONEY was spent. And is still being spent. Hundreds of pounds pour daily into purses held open for the purpose. Some contractors have pulled out saying that it is doomed to failure. Cynics!
We (the Hospital) embraced the new order. We have a live version of the system up and running. And everyone seems to hate it. It is cumbersome, slow, unclear and unhelpful. But, it seems to occupy Managers who battle on as best they can. Which is not saying much really, Managers as a breed in the NHS are a complete waste of time because they do not actually produce anything that comes close to Patient Care.
With the OLD system we (switchboard) were given a printed list of in-patients at the end of every working day. This was printed out on an old daisy-wheel printer onto double width paper and it gave details of who was where and when people phoned and asked if we happened to know what ward someone was on, we had a list ready and waiting to refer to. Alas modernity in its dark veil has got in the way.
As a department we ask for little. A simple list of patients is though one of primary importance. However it is also one that befuddles the brains of the administrators of the wonder-system. It seems that this new all-encompassing IT wonder is not capable of producing a simple list in A-Z order of patients.
Now, it seems to me that any database should be able to give results at the touch of a couple of buttons. I have a database on my PC at work and it can do exactly that. It can give me a list of Bleep numbers and who holds them, Pagers likewise. Mobile phones and home numbers can be pulled out easily. But, this wondrous new system is incapable of doing a straight list of patients.
I have written (e-mails) to a whole host of people within the Hospital. Some have responded, others have shrugged and passed it on. After some three months we are still without a list…
The solution (after an e-mail to our Chief Executive) is to plug us into this new CRS System and then we will have access to details of who is where. Which sounds fine, until you realise that this will mean spending money on extra computers so each individual can log into the system. New desks to turn the Operators desk into a proper workstation. Before this can happen we need to be trained (overtime needed here to get those that work nights to come in during the day to take part in the training), and numerous forms to be filled in to make sure that we are who we say we are and to swear oaths to the gods of IT that we shall not divulge information (that we don’t want) to other people. Add to this the time that this will take…
£12bn and counting!
I am willing to take a bet… I am willing to bet that someone with access to this CRS CAN produce an alphabetical list of patients. Even if it means a little bit of copy & paste work. I will do exactly that in (no timescale here, we await the trainers and experts to come and show us how to use it). I remain cynical; but that is something I have grown used to. Rest assured that I will produce a list for my Operators to use. I am betting my job on it.
… Watch this space.