Dr. Shrimply: Void of the Imposter

Adán stepped out of the New Republic checkpoint and into the divided street. Neon strips flickered along the upper walkways while mud and lantern light defined the British side just thirty yards beyond the sandbag line. He tasted metal on his tongue and wondered if the rift leak had grown stronger overnight.

Raul walked beside him, carrying a clipboard with wedding notes and supply lists. "We still need to confirm the cake vendor on their side," he said. "They keep changing the access rules every time we cross."

"They want us to feel the difference," Adán replied. He kept his eyes on the British sentries at the checkpoint. Red coats stood out against the gray walls, and the bayonets on their muskets caught the lantern glow. "Shit. They are already watching us."

A corporal stepped forward with a ledger. "State your business, civilian."

Adán showed his medical ID and the temporary pass Elena had issued. "Wedding preparations. We have clearance."

The soldier read the document twice before nodding. "Stay on the marked path. No deviations."

They crossed into the colonial sector. Lanterns swung from iron hooks, and the air smelled of wet earth and horse manure. Raul adjusted his coat collar and muttered under his breath. "I hate how they look at us like we are the foreign element."

Adán did not answer. He kept scanning rooftops and alley mouths the way he had been trained. Every shadow could hide a watcher. Every watcher could be reporting to someone higher up the chain.

They reached the bakery the vendor had chosen. The front window was small and grimy. Inside, a woman in an apron looked up from her worktable. "You are the ones from the other side," she said. "We cannot promise delivery if the gates close again."

Raul opened his clipboard. "We just need confirmation on the date and the flavor list. We can pick it up ourselves if transport becomes a problem."

The woman wiped flour from her hands. "The flavor list is fine. The date depends on whether your mother can keep the British from arresting half the guest list before the ceremony."

Adán felt the familiar tightening in his chest. "She is working on it."

They finished the order and stepped back into the street. Rain had started, turning the mud into a slick layer that clung to their boots. Adán wiped his face and glanced toward the enclave towers glowing in the distance. The contrast still felt unreal, like two cities stacked on the same map by mistake.

They crossed back through the checkpoint. The corporal waved them through without another word. Adán relaxed only after they were inside the New Republic perimeter and the hum of generators replaced the crackle of lantern flames.

Clara's underground clinic sat three levels below the main medical ward. Adán led Raul down the maintenance stairs and through two security doors. The smell of antiseptic and damp stone greeted them. Clara looked up from a patient table where a young man lay with a temporal burn across his forearm. The skin shimmered faintly under the work lights.

"Another fracture case," she said. "This one walked through a rift near the river and came out with his bones trying to remember a different timeline. I stabilized the tissue, but the pain is constant."

Adán examined the burn. The pattern followed the veins exactly. "How many today?"

"Fourteen since dawn. Most are civilians who do not understand what they are walking through." Clara wrapped fresh gauze around the wound. "The British sector has started turning people away at their checkpoints. They claim the injuries are our problem."

Raul studied the patient quietly. "They think it is a contagion."

"They are not wrong," Clara answered. "Just wrong about the source."

The patient groaned and tried to sit up. Adán pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Stay down. You will tear the new tissue."

"I have to get back," the man said. "My shift starts in an hour."

"Your shift is covered," Clara told him. "Rest or the fracture spreads."

Adán and Raul moved to the supply room while Clara finished treating the patient. Raul checked the inventory list against the shelves. "We are short on the stabilizers again."

"I know." Adán opened a crate and counted the remaining vials. "Elena is trying to reroute a shipment through the northern corridor, but the British keep blocking it."

Raul closed the clipboard. "This wedding is becoming a diplomatic incident."

"It already is." Adán leaned against the wall and let out a slow breath. "I just want to marry you without the city catching fire around us."

Raul gave him a small smile. "Then we keep moving forward and let Elena handle the politics."

They returned to the main floor in time to see Elena arrive. She wore a dark executive coat over tactical armor, and her security detail stayed two steps behind. She spotted Adán and crossed the room without slowing.

"The British commander agreed to a temporary buffer zone for the ceremony," she said. "No weapons inside the marked perimeter. I had to trade three supply crates to get it."

Adán nodded. "Thank you."

"Do not thank me yet. They want a British observer at the altar. I told them it was non-negotiable." Elena glanced at Raul. "You are both still set on the date?"

"We are," Raul answered. "The guests have already started arriving from the enclave side."

Elena studied her son for a moment. "Then we make it work. I will officiate as promised, and we will keep the Redcoats from turning the aisle into a parade ground."

She left with her detail. Adán watched her go, then turned to Raul. "We should check the venue one more time."

They walked the short distance to the converted warehouse that would serve as the ceremony space. The interior still smelled of machine oil and old concrete. Workers were stringing lights along the support beams. Adán walked the length of the room and stopped at the raised platform where the altar would stand.

Raul joined him. "It will look better once the flowers arrive."

"I keep expecting something to go wrong before we even reach that point," Adán said. He rubbed the back of his neck where tension had settled. "Grizz should be here running security checks, but I have not seen him since yesterday."

Raul frowned. "He is probably buried in logistics. You know how he gets before events like this."

Adán did not answer. Something about the absence felt off, but he could not name the reason yet. He filed the thought and moved on.

They finished the inspection and returned to the medical enclave. The shift change had begun, and the corridors were full of personnel moving between wards. Adán stopped at the main desk to sign off on the day's reports. The nurse on duty handed him a note.

"Message from the British sector," she said. "They are requesting additional medical personnel for their side. Something about an outbreak near the old mill."

Adán read the note twice. "Tell them we will send a team at first light. No one crosses after dark."

He found Raul waiting near the elevator. They rode up together in silence. When the doors opened, the sound of generators and distant rift static filled the upper level. Adán stepped out and looked toward the boundary line where neon met lantern light. The divide felt sharper tonight, as if the two halves of the city were pressing against each other with increasing force.

Raul touched his arm. "We should eat something before the next meeting."

"Yeah." Adán turned away from the window. "Let's get this done."

They walked toward the commissary. Behind them the checkpoint lights flickered once, then steadied. Across the line, a single lantern went out in the British sector, leaving a patch of deeper darkness where no one moved.