2. Riley County Emaregency Response
Farmer Bruener Has Some Ponies
Riley County Emaregency Response
"Doctors are men who prescribe medicines of which they know little, to cure diseases of which they know less, in human beings of whom they know nothing."
— Francois Marie Arouet Voltaire (1760)
- - - - ⧖ - - - -
Time: 7:58 A.M. Central Standard Time, June 19, 2015
Highway 77, Northbound out of Manhattan
- - - - ⧖ - - - -
If asked, Steve would never admit that sounding the siren on the ambulance was the best part of the job. That and the ability to drive just as fast as practical on the highway without worrying about getting another ticket. The big engine in the ambulance really did not counter the heavy contents enough to get up to the same speeds he could in his Mustang convertible, but it was about the only fun part about being a paramedic and having to deal with auto crashes, household accidents, and the occasional messy suicide. Still, it was better than his four years doing much the same job in the military. At least nobody left bombs under bodies in Kansas.
"Turn right at the next exit onto the utility road, then another right onto a gravel road," said Dave, his fellow paramedic from the passenger seat where he was securely buckled in and clutching his phone as if it would save him from a collision. The GPS onboard the ambulance was good, but once you got off the highway, it was handy to have a backup. "About three quarters of a mile, we’ll want to turn south into a hay field and look for a swather. You know what a swather is, right Steve?"
Since he was busy braking in anticipation of the sharp corner, Steve did not respond in the profane and profound manner he wanted to, but instead grunted as he hit the gas after the swaying S-curve and barreled down the gravel road in a cloud of dust with the barbed-wire fences on both sides of the road passing in a blur. Injured little kids were the worst, particularly farming accidents. He had grown up on a farm in North Carolina, so he was fully aware of just how many sharp edges and uncaring power take-off shafts there were on the equipment, as well as how dangerous it was to drive at the speed he was going down the gravel road. He slowed down, but just a little.
"Dispatcher said it sounded bad," said Dave. "I hope the kid doesn’t lose a foot."
"I’ve seen worse." Steve slowed down a little as the indicated corner came up, although he was a little distracted by the sight of circling hawks or vultures above the hay meadow that appeared to be his destination. It was even more distracting as he pulled into the open gate in the barbed wire fence and stopped, because a small grey horse ran up to the window and tapped on the glass with one hoof.
"Are you the ambulance?"
It was a horse. A small horse, but still quite certainly a horse, even though it was dressed in golden armor in the Roman style of lorica segmentata with articulated plates and a one-piece galea helmet bearing a rather mussed blue fuzzy frill. Really, Steve could have handled the talking, as a lifetime of talking cartoon animals had somewhat hardened his mind to the concept, but armor was something he really had not considered. He had a full set of display armor from his days in the Society for Creative Anachronism, so he knew what the difference was between costumes and real armor, so even if somebody had decided to dress a little horse up in an outfit as a prank, he would be able to tell the difference.
And as he looked around, he realized nobody could possibly be carrying out a prank on this scale.
There were hundreds of ponies scattered out across the field, in a dazzling array of colors, making it look more like some twisted Easter egg hunt than a hay meadow. Not all of the ponies were lying in the green grass like eggs waiting to be found either. What he had originally thought were hawks were actually flying ponies, wheeling around the sky in a large open circle, whose purpose became obvious as there was a somewhat weak flicker in the sky accompanied with a loud popping noise, and yet another colorful equine appeared at least a hundred feet up. Two of the flying ponies immediately swooped to intercept the falling pony before Steve became aware of the prodding of one golden-armored hoof to his chest through the open window of the ambulance, which he had rolled down out of habit.
"Hey!" The same armored hoof tapped Steve on the side of the face in a mild slap that brought him abruptly back to earth, or at least able to look at the armored pony without his mind going off into a corner and babbling to itself for a few hours.
"Accident!" said Steve before his brain could catch back up with what he was seeing. "Paramedics. Kid hit by farm equipment. Yes, this is the ambulance," he finished as a set of flashing lights in the rear view mirror caught his attention. "That’s probably the police."
"Good!" snapped the armored pony. "Your patient is over there by the big metal wagon. Do you have additional medical supplies for our injured?"
"Y-yes," stammered Steve.
“Excellent! I’ll dispatch one of the civilians to assist. Now move it! Move! Move!”
His foot hit the gas pedal without asking permission from his brain, and the ambulance lurched forward out into the bumpy hay meadow. There had been a pony-free path cleared between the gate and the swather, which was a very good thing as Steve was not too certain of his ability to drive at the moment. He barely remembered to set the parking brake when he pulled the ambulance up next to the swather and dashed over to a large bare-chested man who was holding onto one leg of the patient.
Who was a pony.
As was the blood-splattered mostly-white pony to her side.
"Blood pressure is dropping, and we’re having problems controlling the bleeding without supplies," said the white pony while she shifted to one side to provide space for Steve, who had grabbed for a tourniquet out of reflex immediately after seeing all of the blood.
"Dave!" he bellowed while wrapping one pink leg with the plastic band and moving it down the hairy leg to get it closer to the bloody wound concealed by the blood-soaked shirt the man was holding. "Open as many Celox packs as you can lay your hands on! Do you know what his blood type is?"
"P-negative," said the nurse, as Steve’s brain had conveniently pigeonholed the pony into that human category as not to cause any additional mental strain on a mind that just wanted to stand there and stare.
"Crap," he muttered while fixing the tourniquet right above the bloody injury and giving it a firm yank. "I know we don’t have that kind of blood at the hospital."
"A-am I going to die?" sobbed a very female voice from the little pony, who had not quit hanging onto the farmer with her good forehoof while bawling her lungs out. "It hurts! It hurts so much!"
It was no wonder her leg hurt so much, with as little Steve had seen under the blood when he had applied the tourniquet. He slapped the coagulant packs on the jagged wound and applied pressure while trying not to swear. The swather’s steel cutter bar had nearly severed the little pony’s leg, with a deep chunk cut out of the bone and the odd pinkish stringy look of cut tendons and muscles that made Steve’s leg ache with sympathetic pain. Even if she survived the blood loss, she was likely to lose the leg, although he would kill the first person who suggested that she was just a horse to be shot and put out of her misery.
"Not a chance, missy," said Steve with as much of a smile as he could muster while he worked. "Ten minutes from now, you’re going to be in a big hospital full of nice doctors who will all be fussing over you like you’re the new Princess of England. Now let’s give you a little something for the pain."
He paused with the morphine injector in one hand before plunging it into what he could best estimate as the right spot and giving her a partial dose. It seemed to be exactly the right decision in hindsight after he finished with the emergency pressure bandage over the coagulant when the little pony finally began to relax slightly and muffled her anguished wails to a quiet whimpering.
Congratulations, Steve. You’ve just been promoted to Extraterrestrial Veterinarian for taking a wild-assed guess that our medicines aren’t toxic to colorful little alien horses.
"We found Doctor Stable," called out a voice in the distance. "He fell into a gully and twisted his ankle, but he’s headed this way."
"Dispatch, this is Riley County EMS-5," said Dave into the radio behind him. "We’ve got a mass casualty event with over a hundred victims, mostly blunt trauma and fractures, possibly some fatalities. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. We’re going to need at least a dozen ambulances at our location. Notify KSU Vet Med and clear Manhattan Memorial Emergency to receive a large number of… um… unusual patients."
Author Notes
In real life, the two hospitals in Manhattan have been consolidated, with the older one sold/given away to K-State and the new one renamed Via Christi (formerly Mercy Regional Health Center). I’m keeping the Memorial name for the story in order to keep away from the hospital’s legal department. The Society for Creative Anachronism has a fairly large presence on the K-State campus, and has some of the most wonderful people as members. K-State Veterinary Medicine is one of the top-ranked vet schools in the country. The road between the pony landing area and the hospital is mostly K-77, which is fairly straight and in good repair, but only two lanes, which will cause problems later in the story.
For those of you who have used Google Maps to identify where the ponies landed, you will notice the sprawling metropolis of Randolph, KS (Pop. 163) right next door. It will come into play later. Tuttle was created primarily for flood control, but they added recreation as a selling point.
By the way, if you really want to see somebody looking confused, go to your local emergency management agency and ask just what their process would be for a few hundred aliens dropped into a field just outside of town. Make sure you tell them you’re an author, though. They’ll still think you’re crazy, but won’t lock you up. (You know, there has been a police car parked outside for the last few weeks. Naaa, probably a coincidence.)
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Welcome to Kansas. Watch that first step.
9557419
Omg... yes... YES
Been waiting for a really good PoE fic.
As Terry Pratchett said, if your grandmother dies, it's the will of God, but if your cow dies, well, that was an expensive cow...
Okay, forget Bruener, Redheart is going to have Twilight's head for this.
9557802
Considering the lack of m6 or Twiggles tag I'd say they're probably in equestria facing whatever made Twilight try to evacuate the whole town.
9557590
No dark or tragedy tag, so I guess nopony is going to die.
Oh my word this is SO fascinating! I truly love fanfics that bring into play actual research on complicated procedures, be it The Maretian with his detailed understanding of space flight or this really interesting insight into emergency medical procedure. I think I would have paid money to see the face of the person you asked your question to. XD Can't wait for the next chapter!
Can confirm. Do not mess with Best Filly.
In any case, going by previews, the situation does eventually stabilize in a positive state, but it's going to be one heck of a trip on the way to that relative equilibrium. Looking forward to the journey.
This is feeling weirdly like 1632. That’s a compliment ^^ I love competent protagonists
Please tell me you actually did this.
(What were the results?)
Upside with Ponyville's doctors found the filly will live, down side poor thing might lose her leg :( Let's hope it's just a bad scar in the end. Not really sure what the limits of healing spells are, they might be able to fix her leg.
9557795 Besides, grandma didn't contribute much to the milk supply anyway. (snerk)
9557872 You know, when anybody says this to George RR Martin, he gets out his knife...
9557878 We actually have a doctor at our church who I worked out some of the details with, and an EMT with military experience who did some others. It was interesting how their approaches differed. The doctor (being used to the hospital with a near-infinite supply of typed and cross-matched whole blood and the full suite of medical support) insisted that a tourniquet should not be applied while doing all the surgical things doctors do, and the EMT was like "Place it, yank like hell, and pack the wound with Celox for immediate transport." POV I suppose.
9557934 Yep. Walked right up to the Manhattan Emergency Response booth at the Riley County Fair and started with those magic words, "I'm an author, and..." It's amazing how a lot of emergency response depends on emergency response nearby, like if the Lutheran church is throwing a party and borrowing tables from the Baptists, chairs from the Catholics, plates from the Methodists, etc... It makes a lot of sense, though. Tornadoes (our form of urban renewal here) only take out relatively small sections of country, so it makes no sense for *every* county to be prepped for all that gear. Also, with Ft. Riley nearby, any mass casualty event includes the MPs being notified. When they lose a helicopter, the cops might get there first, but the MPs are right on their tail, and all kinds of vehicles and people in digicam inside an hour or two have the whole area sealed off.
9557959 A lot of East/West coasters consider flyover country to be populated with indians, cacti, and wheat, but we have one of the best microsurgery teams in KU Med (admittedly 'in the area' should be added) as well as fine living conditions, fairly low housing costs, and pretty darned good people, for the most part. Widget could not be in better hands unless she was whisked off to Walter Reed.
9557984
I outright disbelieve that anyone ever says that to George R. R. Martin...
Can't help thinking of → https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGyBwX-Mu4w
9557984
Sadly a lot of people seem to be under the impression the "Fly over states" are filled with toothless uneducated hillbillies who all work on great depression era farmsteads.
Good thing Steve was an army medic before. The guardspony giving him orders must have helped with getting his brain into the right gear, instead of the cogs starting to come loose.
Also, things will get weird once the immediate emergency is over, everybody has had a time to take a few breaths, and start to think about what the heck just happened. Looking forwards to seeing it!
Good thing the show has established that ponies are extremely resistant to blunt trauma. (Twilight probably called it even when Derpy took that stone sphere hit for her in the movie. But is likely still wary of pianos from the sky.)
If that poor filly hadn't landed on the blade the worst injuries would probably be some minor bone fractures.
Although on second thought there are all those elderly ponies from the retirement home. Hopefully ponies don't have an osteoporosis equivalent.
Hopefully there are someponies with the same blood type so they can do a transfusion.
Well written and an utterly fascinating premise, so here's another story for my favorites list.
You're really showing your work here, and I love it.
Wow, that got serious way quicker than I expected after the general hilarity of the Harry Potter fic.
Kansas strikes me as a good area to crash land (so to speak). I mean, it worked well for SupermanOf course, I'm assuming Smallville is in Kansas. I suppose it could be Nebraska..
Guess I have another story to follow.
Being a writer covers a lot of odd bases. Gives a person reasons to have books like guides to poison and autopsies. My original stuff (which isn't published) has lead me down weird avenues. Like learning when mustard gas was introduced during the Great War (aka WW1) and lifestyles of colonial America.
9557984
Speaking of, are ambulances in your area allowed to exceed the speed limit? Most places they're not, and they have wireless telemetry onboard.
I'm also surprised about packing a wound with celox without assessing whether the TQ was enough first. Obviously it's not a bad idea for the PT but in a mass casualty event celox comes in handy for junctional hemmorhage where nothing else will do the job. At least it's not quickclot though, nothing like giving the patient the gift of a stroke.
9557984
Widget could not be in better hands unless she was whisked off to Mayo Clinic.
FTFY
9558006
With the Superbowl last year and the Final Four last weekend taking place in the Twin Cities, as I understand it the hoards of non-midwesterner visitors were pretty complementary. The news keeps going on about the economic boost and how organizers are salivating over other potential major events to host. Of course, the Twin Cities were already the cultural capitol of the upper-Midwest (sorry Chicago) and historically a big center of manufacturing and technology and medicine with 3M and Medtronic and Honeywell and the U of M's rather prominent medical programs.
Of course, speaking of being uneducated, some things could be said about sportsball nuts and the dumbass kids who get conned into bed with the NCAA's hair-raisingly abusive contracts.
9558196 Ooo, we haf a Minne-sootian here, don't cha' know.
9558178 I can't say for sure about Kansas, but I've seen them blow by me like I'm parked, so I presume so. Tourniquets and Celox are important for the critical task of keeping all the red stuff from leaking out, particularly when you have no red stuff to pump back in. As an aside, I donated blood yesterday using the 'double-red' machine. Quite worth it, because I hate needles, and this way I get poked only half as often.
9558041 Or Granny Smith.
9558016 Yeah, dropping an alien on unprepared people could easily wind up with shots being fired from the panic.
9558006 True. It's only half of us. (I kid, I kid)
9557990 Or at least twice.
"I don't see why you don't tell him. It's not like he'd kill--"
"Yes, he would! He laughed when I told him the first time!"
9557346
Me too.
Haven't been to Manhattan in about a decade. I just remember it being much, much hillier than southern Kansas.
There's a typo here, or you left something out. It's one of the two.
9558297
I think its more of an artistic assumption, like the guy take a shot in the dark. Unless I read the passage wrong originally cause I thought he was just guessing basically. Like a shock response, start Triage, start treating, kinda thing.
9558297
I'm guessing it's a case of the medic not being able to tell if the unicorn is a colt or a filly, and going with male pronoun by default.
Royal Guard aint phased by the moving box with dongles, cos he probably has to deal with the Flim Flam brothers and their self mobile gear.
That, and hes from Ponyville, which means the Luggage might have passed by recently.
So far, so good. Juud a good realignment jig and some medical superglue?
As for a nice long road being limited to two lanes? Just watch how quick extra lanes or a whole new road can be dropped if needed. Mulberries went down overnight.
9558273 That's unfair. *Everything* is hillier than Western Kansas. In fact, Kansas has scientifically been proven to be flatter than a pancake. Can't argue with that. It's science.
9558297 Well, he's a little busy to look under her tail...
9558314 Google Streetview goes a ways out onto 77, so you can get an idea on how much earthmoving it would take to get two more lanes on that thing. Answer: lots.
Oooh~ I *love* first contact scenarios... can't wait to read more!
Well, I'm hooked. I'm a sucker for people rallying to handle the situation in the short-term and panicking later. It happens more than some people think and reflects well on humanity to have it happen in a story.
Distinct characters with fun background tidbits, first contact, and a surprisingly fleshed-out setting. Yes, you've certianly got my attention. I find myself eagerly awaiting further education on extraterrestrial disaster preparedness. The ponies are nice too.
Thanks for releasing all this stuff for public consumption. This one's off to a roaring start.
I like how nobody wants to be the first to say "aliens" over the phone.
9558658 Of course, it's aliens
pics.me.me/thumb_awiens-cat-shit-9641550.png
My only complaint is the short chapters. That being said, they're some good hard, hitting chapters.
Speaking as a Kansas resident, I'd just like to say: nice choice of picture. :)
Definitely looking into this.
Huh, I've got a friend in Manhattan. another reason to read this.
9557907
But was that Sparkler who got chewed up? That's only marginally better!
9559059 I wandered around town, trying to find some really good shots, then I saw this one on their Travel and Tourism site and was hooked.
9558773 These two are the shortest. Chapter 8 hits 11k words, but that's the chapter where the news of ponies goes instantly world-wide. And in unanticipated fashion. And where the girls get a chance to be girls, even divided by species.
That chapter felt so short! But i'm not sure it was. But it read really fast. Most likely the fast pace pulling me along.
9557757
I'll have to remember that, since I'm about to PCS there ...
You know, the funny thing is that with a legitimate mass casualty event calling in the veterinarians won't even raise any eyebrows. They know they need extra medical help, and a vet's good enough in a pinch even without the whole aliens bit.
9558418
Didn't you say there was armor nearby? A column of tanks rolling through should expand the road just fine.
More seriously, with all the helicopters over at the base they should be able to organize an airlift to get around the road easily enough, and that's before you start talking about bringing in other assets. C-130's should be able to fly off the farm without trouble, and if you need fuel there's a wing of KC-135's in Wichita to keep everything moving.
Has.
I'm loving this story. And I have to say, I really appreciate the research you did into field trauma care. I recently took certification classes for Stop The Bleed and TCCC, and I have to admit that a lot of the good I got out of it was debunking misconceptions I didn't know I had. There's a lot of false ideas floating around out there, so it's great to see a story reinforcing good info for a change. Thank you!
This is Faaaaascinating. I love it, and am eagerly awaiting more. Very realistic, and very good portrayal of emergency services.
Aliens. Hurt aliens. Do your job.
Appropriate response.
9559305 It's a fun place. My son is about to graduate from Basic Training at the end of the month, and we have *no* idea where he's going to wind up.
9559399 Air Force sending supplies would be... silly. Here, take a look at the map. By the time the C130 took off and climbed to a thousand feet, it would be descending to land at the grass strip over by the Clay Center turnoff, about half-way there. Load the truck, load the plane, unload the plane, load the truck, drive to the destination, wonder why all the other truck drivers are making their third trip for the day.
i.gyazo.com/f00ca690aff429159a4455a8956db28d.png
9560122 I wouldn't mind attending one of the classes. I'm a X gallon Red Cross blood donor, and I know the value of the red stuff. (One of these days I need to add up my number for accurate bragging rights. It's at least seven.)
9557757
My only critique those far is that Dr. Stable would't had twisted his ankle...doesn't have any of those...he'd had twisted his Fetlock.
Great story thus far, looking forward to more...and yes, I did use Google Satellite to find where it was taking place.