Some kind of turmoil was brewing in the back of the main room. The flash of pale green uniforms amid the varicolored finery of the clubs clientele gave him a moment’s warning of what to expect before the crowd was split by a bellowing Ork nurse. She was using her size to cut a path for the gurney that followed her. Two attendants wheeled the cart and its passenger under the direction of a woman in a DocWagon physician’s coverall. Between the oxygen mask and the blankets swathing the patient, Sam had no clue to the person’s identity or condition.