Numbers were scrawled within the dirt as Ruth sat upon the ground, knees to her chin and lips murmuring in silent conversation. This wasn’t the first time she found herself in such a predicament and she highly doubted that it would be the last. So important were numbers in this strange and new land: of how many items she had, of how many days had passed, and how much longer she could hope to horde the medicine of the old world for the assumption that it may be greater in value later. The past, the present, and future danced as figures scrawled in dirt…Yet, time and time again did the math reveal a fate that she simply could not bare: There was no way to make it last.

One catastrophic even would be all that’s needed to wipe away her precious inventory and leave the settlement without any medical defense. She didn’t have the supplies so a pandemic- or even the usual coming and goings of common illnesses for a foreseeable future. It was in her professional opinion that this colony was- for the lack of a better word- fucked.

There was still a chance to rally the odds closer to their favour. Ruth was only one in a handful of people with medical expertise. If they could come together, share resources, alert one another of new outbreaks as they hit the villages…There was a hope. A slim one, true; yet it was best chance they had at sustainability.

The good doctor rose to her feet and dusted away the dry earth that clung to her pants. In one swift movement, she had plucked her headscarf from where it hung by the door and took to the winding alleyways of settlement. If she was to take action, it best be now...or else her courage might leave her.

Ruth knew of another doctor that was nestled somewhere nearby: Dr. Blanchet. They may have met however briefly in crossing paths but a formal introduction was yet to be had. From what was observed, this Nicolette woman was kind enough. Her demeanor was always welcoming, the stories of her work and company from the other settlers always positive ones. That kindness was necessity. If the good doctor’s plan of a planet-wide health care system was to take hold, this first connection must be one of success.

Through the dirt paths she weaved, memory alone was what guided her weary feet until coming across a shack just like any other.

Ruth cleared her throat and knocked tree times.

“Doctor?” She called out, her sense of professionalism making the call sound far more confident than the reality. “Are you free to talk?”