Chapter 126: Tell Us Who Moves

"Sit down," Qinghe instructed when his mother returned her attention to him.

His tone remained gentle, but he left no space for negotiation. "Drink the rest of that water and have someone bring you an electrolyte solution before we discuss the ward."

His mother glanced toward her husband, expecting support.

Dr. Wen pulled a chair from the wall and placed it behind her. "He’s right."

"You dislike him less from a distance," she muttered, though she sat and finished the bottle.

Once she had complied, Qinghe opened the patient information the nurse had sent.

Ward C contained 41 people. Eleven required powered respiratory support. Seven depended on continuous medication pumps, while several others needed monitoring that could be performed manually if enough staff remained.

The hospital had transferred the most stable patients first. Everyone left behind would become more difficult to move as the temperature rose.

"How many outlets remain available in the surgical wing?" Qinghe asked.

His mother opened the most recent capacity report. "Seventeen without exceeding the eastern generator’s current load. We may create another six if we close two operating rooms."

"Are the operating rooms in use?"

"One is," she answered. "The second is being held for emergencies."

Qinghe examined the procedures performed during the previous 24 hours.

Most involved injuries caused by the Heat: burns, falls, vehicle collisions and violence near cooling centers.

Closing both rooms would prevent the hospital from treating the next critical arrival, but leaving one empty would preserve power for an emergency that hadn’t occurred while patients already inside Ward C lost support.

Hanchuan read the same information from beside him. "Close the unused room."

Qinghe didn’t immediately agree.

Hanchuan evaluated the hospital according to the people currently inside it. A physician had to preserve the ability to accept the next person brought through the doors.

His mother saw his hesitation. "Administration refused to close it. They expect more casualties after the public cooling centers shut their doors for the night."

"Those casualties will arrive whether the room has power or not," Dr. Wen said from behind her. "The question is how many patients we sacrifice while waiting for them."

Qinghe compared the available load with the requirements attached to each patient.

Closing one operating room created space for six more powered beds. Shutting down nonessential imaging equipment could support another three, although the hospital would lose most of its diagnostic capacity.

"Power down the second operating room," he decided. "Keep the active room available for emergency procedures. Shut down the outpatient imaging systems, but retain one portable ultrasound and the eastern CT scanner."

His mother relayed the instructions to the administrator standing beyond the camera.

The man objected until she identified Qinghe and repeated the calculation behind the decision.

Qinghe’s name still carried authority inside the hospital, although he had spent the first week of the disaster somewhere none of them could locate.

The revised allocation created nine additional powered positions.

It wasn’t enough.

"Transfer the respiratory patients first," Qinghe instructed as he ranked the remaining requirements. "Move the medication pumps that cannot be safely converted to manual dosing. Battery-operated monitors stay in Ward C until the final transfer."

His parents began assigning staff before he finished speaking. Nurses moved toward the ward with transport equipment, while an orderly cleared the corridor connecting it to the surgical wing.

Qinghe continued reviewing the patients.

One required ventilation but had suffered irreversible neurological damage before the Heat began.

Another needed high-flow oxygen after developing severe heat-related lung injury.

A third had advanced cancer and an order refusing resuscitation, but the file didn’t specify whether the patient would accept withdrawal of respiratory support.

The medical decisions weren’t equal simply because the equipment consumed the same power.

His mother returned to the phone after the first beds started moving. She had obtained an electrolyte drink but hadn’t opened it.

Qinghe pointed toward the bottle without interrupting his review.

She opened it.

"The generator can support 26 of them after the changes," she said once she had taken several swallows. "The western unit shuts down in 38 minutes." ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Qinghe looked at the 41 files.

Some patients could survive without powered equipment if the staff performed continuous manual care. Others would die within minutes of disconnection.

The remaining nurses and doctors had already worked beyond exhaustion, and assigning them to manual ventilation meant they couldn’t treat anyone else.

His father leaned beside Qinghe’s mother so both appeared on the communications wall. Neither asked their son to find more power or send equipment he couldn’t deliver.

They asked him for the judgment they were too close to make alone.

Dr. Wen sent the final patient list to Qinghe’s terminal. "Tell us who moves."

Qinghe didn’t begin selecting patients.

He read the list once, then looked at his parents through the communications wall. "These files are outdated. I need current neurological status, blood pressure, oxygen saturation and response to treatment for every patient requiring powered support."

His father glanced toward the clock above the corridor doors. "We have 36 minutes."

"Then assign six physicians and divide the ward. No one receives or loses power based on information recorded before the cooling failure."

Dr. Wen understood immediately.

He called the available physicians together and distributed groups of patient numbers.

Qinghe’s mother organized the nurses around them, assigning one person to record the results directly into the hospital system while the examinations took place.

The files began updating within minutes.

Qinghe divided his screen into three categories.

The first contained patients likely to survive if powered treatment continued. The second held those who might tolerate lower levels of support or manual treatment. The third remained empty until he had enough information to determine whether continued intervention could change the outcome.

The distinctions weren’t judgments about whose life mattered more.

They measured where the available electricity could still make a difference.

A 34-year-old man with heat-related respiratory failure improved when his oxygen flow increased. Qinghe placed him in the first group.

An elderly woman receiving medication through an electric pump could be converted to scheduled manual injections, allowing her to remain in Ward C without an outlet. He moved her to the second.

The patient with advanced cancer was awake.

Her physician documented that she understood the cooling failure and didn’t want to be transferred if the move required displacing another patient.

She requested oxygen for comfort while the remaining power lasted but refused invasive ventilation.

Qinghe marked her wishes before removing her from the powered-bed transfer list.

His mother saw the change.

She didn’t question it, but grief moved briefly across her expression.

She knew the woman behind the patient number.