Max placed the pill bottle with a deliberate gentleness back on the table, nudging it towards Felix with one finger.
“I’m sorry, these are expired for two years. August, 2098? I can’t give you anything for them.” Max gave an uneasy, apologetic smile. “Do you have anything else?”
Felix leaned in earnestly. “They were two years expired when I got them six months ago, Max, but I still paid 500 kronens for them. How much of a difference does it make?” Felix shook the bottle. “There are still 27 pills in here, penicillin. These are worth every bit of 480 kronens.”
Max shook his head. “I’m sorry, Felix, I can’t do it. Penicillin is for the poor now; I will never get my kronens back if I buy these, especially at the price you want.” Max leaned back in his chair as a sudden staccato of coughing poured down the hallway into the cramped kitchen. “I assume penicillin didn’t help?”
“No. It was worth a shot.” Felix felt tears fill his eyes and viciously blinked them back. “I hired Ian to come out here for the Scan, though. That set me back a few thousand kronens.”
“Ian was a great doctor before the Healthcare Collapse. What did the Scan say?”
Felix pressed his lips together. “Cancer. Pancreatic. End of the story.” He laughed bitterly. “I took a gamble spending the kronens for the Scan, and now I only have a few thousand left.”
Max whistled, shaking his head. “That stinks. Are you going to enter the lottery?”
“What choice do I have? She’s my mother.”
Max reached for the pill bottle, shaking it gently. “It’s a raw deal. The rich can afford insurance and hire doctors, and the rest of us? It’s not enough that we have no jobs, or that the government fouled the economy so badly that we had to have a new currency to make up for what they did to the dollar, but the healthcare fiasco was the end of us as a country.” He slammed the bottle down, startling Felix. “You know that cancer was cured fifty years ago, when they started altering the DNA of the rich. I’m surprised Ian didn’t give you any ideas for a cure."
“I’m surprised Ian still practices at all.” Felix rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Most doctors bailed years ago when they realized that they needed to raise their prices so much that no one could afford them, and insurance was so expensive no one could buy it.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t afford a cure, anyway. This lottery is my only chance.”
“I understand that Townsman Pinnoch is easy to persuade. You should approach him to pad your numbers in the lottery.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do. I only have 2,387 kronens though. I already sold everything I had to pay for the Scan.”
Max reached into his pocket. “Here.” He slammed the flimsy kronens on the table. “113 kronens. Maybe that can help you convince Townsman Pinnoch that your number should be drawn in the lottery.” He snatched the pills. “I can find some poor sap desperate enough to buy these.”
Felix released his breath in a tremendous sigh of relief. “I doubt anyone else will come up with 2500 kronens. God, I hope it’s enough.”
Max threw another 20 kronens on the table. “Here, you need twenty for the entrance fee to put your name in the lottery.”
Felix snatched the money before Max could change his mind. “You’re not too bad for a thug.”
“Hey, I give people what they need. Medications that may or may not help. It’s better than the alternative, people just dying with no hope at all.” Max shook his head. “You know, you’re in a better position than most in the lottery. They can’t afford to pad the numbers at all.”
“I know.” Felix pressed his lips together. “I’m counting on it.”
****
Townsman Michael Pinnoch’s office was crowded with people coughing their illnesses all around the lobby. Looking at them, Felix supposed the lottery would be too late for most of them anyway, even if they managed to win this month. He walked up to the secretary, holding his application out to her. “Excuse me?”
The receptionist rolled her eyes widely and snatched the application. She stamped a number across it, then stamped another piece of paper and handed it back to him before throwing his application into an overflowing basket. “You’re in. Good luck.” She turned her chair and began to thumb through her air screen.
He placed his hands on the desk and leaned in. “Excuse me.”
She swung back around, the look of irritation unmistakable. “You’re in. Check on the first of next month to see if you were picked.”
“I need to speak with Townsman Pinnoch.”
She hesitated. “About?”
“A…personal matter.”
The secretary’s sneer was almost imperceptible. “Really.” She glided her chair over to the wooden door behind her and cracked it open. Felix didn’t hear the discussion, but she waved him behind the desk, pulling his application from the basket and handing it back to him. “You have five minutes.”
Felix closed the heavy door behind him and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Townsman Pinnoch?”
The balding, mildly obese figure behind the desk continued to tap on his air screen. “Yes? Felix Raring, is it?”
“Yes sir, I need to talk with you about something.” Pinnoch’s heavy sigh encouraged him to step forward, rolling and unrolling the application in his hands nervously. “It’s about the Health Care lottery.”
Pinnoch’s fingers stopped for a fraction of a second before continuing their frantic journey on the air screen. “Yes? I assume you applied?”
Felix placed his application on the clean, uncluttered desk. “Yes, sir.” He pushed it across to Pinnoch.
Pinnoch gave an overly dramatic sigh and snatched the application up. He read it quickly, then glanced at Felix with astonishment. “This? You get one lottery entry for yourself or your family every year. This is the chance to cure any disease, any at all, using our doctors and our facilities, and you want to waste it on a…” He glanced down briefly. “On a sixty-eight-year-old woman? Life expectancy for your class is 65 at best, she’s already lived three years past that.”
“Yes sir, I know, but I also know doctors have been able to cure cancer for fifty years.”
Townsman Pinnoch looked irritated. “Of course we can. We bred cancer out of our class decades ago, along with all of the other Ailments of the Poor. Cancer is an easy fix, from what I heard. Three ways to squash it; light therapy, genetic tweaking, and electromagnetic therapies. It’s cured in an hour. That sugar thing, though, diabetes? That one was harder to fix.”
Felix cleared his throat. “I entered her in the lottery, as you can see, and I got my number.”
Pinnoch looked bored, turning back to the flashing air screen. “Good for you. I hope nothing major happens to you after you waste this entry on an old lady.”
“The thing is, I understand that thousands of people enter this every month, and the odds of being chosen are, well, pretty slim.”
Pinnoch raised his eyebrows. “And? It’s a perfect way to ration care to your class. One winner per month means twelve of you from each township get cured of any disease each year.”
“Oh, I know, I know. I just…” Felix cleared his throat again. “I was wondering if there is anything…I mean, it’s re-election year, and I…can I make a donation?”
Pinnoch turned back to face Felix, looking interested in the conversation for the first time since he had walked in the sterile office. “You know, donations are always welcome.”
Felix reached into his pocket. “I have 2500 kronens.”
Pinnoch’s laugh was short and harsh. “I’ve gotten much higher donations already. Sorry, I can’t help you.”
“Please, sir. It’s all I have. I even sold my issued food supplies for the month to get this.”
Pinnoch shook his head. “All of this, for an old lady. What if something happens to you this year? You know this is your family’s one entry.”
“I know, and that’s why it’s really important to win this lottery.”
Pinnoch pressed his lips together, looking at the money in Felix’s hand. “You know, sometimes, mistakes happen. Sometimes, more than one winner can get picked. It’s rare, and it’s never made public, but it can happen.” He reached his hand out, snatching the money and tucking it in his pocket. He repeated, “Sometimes, mistakes happen.”
***
Maria glanced briefly around the waiting room, then returned her gaze to her lap, a small trail of drool running from the corner of her mouth.
Felix pressed the button on her wheelchair, gliding the seat to the admissions desk. The nurse glanced up, distaste apparent on her face.
“Lottery, I assume?” She punched numbers into her air screen. “Maria Raring? Cancer expunging?” She flipped her fingers through several tabs on the air screen. “Where are her tests?”
“I…couldn’t get official tests. Her cancer was confirmed via Scan, given by our block’s volunteer doctor.”
The nurse pressed her lips together, barely able to hide her disdain. “Scan? What are we, back in the 21st century?” She laughed at her own joke. “Well, fortunately for you, testing comes along with the cure. It has to; if we rely on you people for results, we’d never get anywhere.”
She lifted a cover on the reception desk. “Maria, put your fingertips right here.” Maria hesitated before fitting her fingers into the glowing ridges on the desk. Lights pulsed, and the desk hummed quietly.
Maria gasped as intense heat pulsed through her fingertips, then the nurse smiled falsely. “All done. Let’s take a look.” She jabbed at her air screen, frowning. “Cancer, yes. Also, heart failure. Has she been coughing?”
“Yes.” Felix felt a twinge of unease. “Winning the lottery promises to cure her of all disease, right?”
“Sixty-eight? She’s so old for your class.”
“So I’ve heard. Can you help her?”
“Of course. This is nothing complicated for our doctors, although the only diseases they ever see come from your kind.”
Felix bristled, then decided to let it go. “You can fix her?”
The nurse’s smile almost touched her eyes. “Good as new.”
***
Felix straightened Maria’s hair gently. “This is an important day, Ma. You need to look nice.” He fluffed the pillow behind her head. “Everyone is excited to see you. Which dress did you want?” Felix held the dresses up. “I choose the blue one. You love this one.”
A knock on the apartment door startled him. “Ma, were you expecting anyone? It’s early yet.” The knock repeated. “Fine, fine. Hang on!”
Townsman Pinnoch poked his head through the doorway of Maria’s bedroom. “Felix? Your door was open. I’m sorry to disturb you.”
Felix froze, the dress in his hands. “Townsman Pinnoch. What are you…why are you here?”
Pinnoch stepped into the room, holding out a wad of kronens. “Here. I figured you’ll need this more than me.”
Felix turned back to Maria, gently stroking her hand. “Keep it. We’re not interested.”
Pinnoch approached the bed hesitantly. “Look, I don’t make the rules, kid. I only play along with them.”
Felix turned Maria’s hand over in his own, kissing it before releasing it back onto the comforter. “You don’t understand what cold means, not really, until you feel it yourself.” He rubbed Maria’s hands between his own.
Pinnoch laid the money on the end table. “Take it.”
“The lottery was our only hope, Townsman Pinnoch.”
“I know. Take the money, Felix.”
“The nurse said everything would be ok.”
“Felix, it was too late. She was too sick, even for our medicine.” Pinnoch touched the money again. “Take it. The funeral detail will be here soon, and you want to pay them to give her a nice memorial.”
“It costs as much to bury her as to cure her.” Felix looked at the money. “Damn you, Pinnoch,” he said almost absently. “I hope you all rot in Hell.”
***
Max sat across from the trembling man, watching him shake with fever. “So, did you get a Scan?”
Arty sneered. “How? Who can afford a Scan?” He coughed harshly into a napkin, wincing at the reddish tinge left behind.
“I don’t know what medicine to give you if you don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Do you have anything that’s sort of, I don’t know, one size fits all?” Arty pulled a handful of crumpled kronens out of his pocket and pushed them at Max.
Max reached into his bag, shaking a bottle of expired penicillin. “As a matter of fact, I do.” He gazed intently at the bottle before laying it on the table. "Have you considered the Lottery? Townsman Pinnoch is easy to persuade." Max's smile was almost real as he reached back in his pocket and touched the wadded cash Pinnoch had given him from Felix's lottery entry. "Very easy to persuade. Let me help you."
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