they turned the corner, coming upon a rare sight. it was a motor vehicle accident, first in the business district for months. a school bus lay on its side, just short of the intersection. children were clambering cautiously from the emergency door. the uniformed driver was ignoring his passengers, staring in disbelief at the radar controls at the street corner, which had failed a moment earlier.

the other vehicle involved in the crash was wrapped around a power pole. it was an auto of antique vintage, produced before full automatic driving provisions. there weren't more than a dozen such vehicles remaining on the streets of the city. the radar controls almost never went on the blink. only the combination of the vehicle and the inoperative controls could have created an accident.

dr. needzak led the other doctors through the thickening crowd, to the side of the bus. kids were no longer climbing through the emergency exit, but noises were coming from within the vehicle. his bag under his left arm, he hauled himself atop the overturned bus, and dropped through the emergency exit into its half-dark interior. he saw the other two doctors outlined against the sky, as they perched on the horizontal side of the vehicle, peering down, helpless without their bags.

dr. needzak found a small boy sprawled awkwardly around a seat, bleeding rapidly from the leg, face ashen, unconscious. the physician clipped off the trousers leg, bound the leg tightly above the deep gash, and slipped on a bandage. then he lifted the small boy up to dr. carson.