Chapter 2, part 2

New Gotham Fire's EMS station number 57 shared its driveway with the ambulance bay of the Gantry and Ship-workers’ Medical and Mental Health Center, better known simply as The Gantry. The steel and glass hospital tower overlooked the station house, blocking out its morning sun and giving the low, crumbling building a particularly dreary look in the rain. Ian stepped around a collection of tightly parked ambulances and personal cars and several large puddles to reach the single normal door among a series of oversized garage doors. He reached out to push the painted-over doorbell, saw the cut wires running from it, and knocked on the steel door instead.

The door opened after only a short pause, and Ian stepped in. While one part of his mind registered the generally run down, comfortable look of the garage, most of it considered the man who it let him in.

The man wore the city's medic uniform. He stood just about as tall as Ian. “About my age, too,” reflected Ian, meaning no more than a year or two to ether side of 25. Further observation stopped as the man spoke: "who are you?"

"I'm Ian -- Ian Steele. I was just assigned here?"

"Oh," said the man, "you're Richards' replacement." He pointed further into the garage, in the direction taken by several sets of wet footprints. "Office is through the doorway and to the left, then the second door on the left. I've got a call or I'd show you." A siren chirped outside, as if on cue, and the man ducked out the door and into the rain.

Left alone, Ian looked about the garage. Though there were only three garage doors behind him (the door through which he entered stood between the right-most two) the garage was some four or five vehicles wide. Two garage doors in the opposite wall provided access to those parking spots not served by the doors behind him. Three ambulances sat at the far side.

To Ian's right stood a collection of variously sized oxygen cylinders: big M cylinders, even bigger H cylinders, and a lot of the portable E cylinders. A clock above the cylinders reminded him of his purpose for being there, and he followed the trail of wet footprints.

The footprints approached a glassed-in supply room, then made a right to pass through a doorway. Empty fittings on the doorway's pillars showed were the door had been removed, and as he passed through the doorway Ian found the door itself leaning against the wall. He walked down the short hallway, which threw a passage off to the left before quickly turning right. Most of the footprints took the left passage, but then the trail split, with some of the footprints heading to a break room on the right, while the rest continued for another yard or so before turning into an office. Ian glanced into the empty break room: several chairs, a table, a kitchenette, and the TV was on. He continued to the office.

Two lieutenants stood over one of the desks in the office. They looked up as he entered. "Can I help you?" One of them asked.

"I'm Ian -- Ian Steele? I was just assigned here?"

"Uh-huh," said the first lieutenant.

"Really," said the second. Perhaps Ian was in the wrong place. "Are we supposed to get a new medic?" The second lieutenant asked the first.

"John didn't say nothing about it. What unit are you on?"

"Three-five X-ray." Ian said. He dug through his bag for the photocopy of his letter and held it out.

"Well," said the first lieutenant, ignoring the proffered letter. "Don't that just beat the band. I guess Richards retired this week. And come to think of it, I haven't seen him today. You?" He asked the other lieutenant, who shook his head. The first lieutenant looked up at a clock on the wall, then at a dry erase board on which Ian saw names, unit IDs, and other information scrawled. "No time to give you the tour," he said to Ian, "make sure to come in at the end of shift. You'll be in bus 006."

The other lieutenant finished consulting one of several computers scattered about the office and looked up. "3-5 X is in from tour one, so it should be waiting in the lot. Or just beyond the gate. Take your bag with you. We’ll deal with a locker tomorrow."