Honor Among Thieves (The Honors #1)(66)
Medical intervention came in the form of an Earth-style bot, programmed with all the knowledge modern medicine and alien tech could devise, along with an impressive range of pharmaceuticals. The Emergency Medical Intervention Treatment Unit hadn’t been built for beauty, so it was all boxy chrome, speakers, cameras, and spindly arms that could grasp, pull, twist, or inject with ease. I hadn’t needed EMITU since we’d come aboard, so the thing perked up when I stumbled through the door.
“Honor Cole. You are injured. Processing severity.” EMITU’s voice had a definite old-school robo reverb, no uncanny valley there. The downside was it also couldn’t manage empathy, so his cheer sounded like ghoulish delight. “Looks like we need to amputate. You will enjoy your new robot hands, manufactured by Jitachi, the industry leader in medical robotics.”
My head was clearing, but for a long second I was almost sure I was hallucinating. Then I was sure I wasn’t. I stopped cold and hid my butchered hands behind my back. “No way!”
“Only a little bedside levity. Are you not crazy entertained?”
From what I knew, EMITU wasn’t supposed to have a sense of humor. I turned to glare at my companion. “Bea! Did you hack this thing?”
“It’s great, right? I gave it some personality, over five hundred slang words, some I invented.” She was using handfuls of medical wipes to clean the waste off her skin. “And you’re in no position to complain, okay?”
I mumbled some choice Zone slang as Bea helped me out of my skinsuit. The med unit herded me into a decon shower, and the spray smelled overwhelmingly like the cheap pine cleaner they favored in institutions. It would have been reassuring if the mist had stung; I could see the damage to my flesh, but I couldn’t feel it.
“Diagnosis: permanent nerve damage. Regenerative course required. Unless you want those robot hands?”
“Oh my God.”
“Then please dress, Honor Cole. I’m not here for the booty.”
Despite myself, I laughed. I put on the treatment gown and lay back in the chair. Permanent nerve damage didn’t sound good, and the seriousness of it sank in fast. I realized I was breathing deeply, trying to make myself stay calm . . . and then Bea sat down next to me. “Hey,” she said, and touched my shoulder. She was trying not to look at the mess of my hands. “I need to go back up there. We’re good for now, but . . .”
“But you should keep alert,” I agreed. I swallowed hard. “Bea, I’m sorry. I should have told you when I found out about Nadim’s problem. But I honestly didn’t think it would happen. I didn’t.”
“I know. And you were wrong.” But her hand stayed gentle on my shoulder, and she smoothed my hair back from my face. “We’re not out of this yet, Z.”
EMITU told me to close my eyes, but the minute I did that, I thought that Mr. Personality would probably imitate a buzz saw. Beatriz walked away, so there was nobody here to check the thing if it went full horror show. I kept my gaze locked on EMITU, but it only prepped a syringe. Though I tensed, I still didn’t feel any pain when it jammed the needle home in my hands. Not then. About thirty seconds later, the feeling came back in an excruciating rush, liquid fire from wrists to fingertips.
“Has sensation returned?”
“Yes.” I hissed it through a clenched jaw. It was that or sink my teeth into my arm and chew off the offending limbs.
“I can give an injection for the pain, but I cannot expedite healing until the regenerative treatment runs its course. To attempt both simultaneously could result in a catastrophic shitstorm.”
That was the best verbiage I’d ever heard from medical personnel. I imagined Beatriz cackling as she made her upgrades, and it occurred to me that she and I were two of a kind; she just rebelled in quieter ways. No wonder we got along so well. Most of the time, when I didn’t screw it up.
“Understood.”
“I am applying a protective sealant to discourage foreign matter as your wounds heal. Please return in twenty-four hours.”
“Sure.”
The stuff EMITU sprayed on my hands came out pink and looked like flesh caulk, basically. It molded over the gashes, at least, and while they still hurt, at least I didn’t have to look at the gaping edges. Next I got an injection straight to my neck and my pain receptors all went on vacation. Such fast-working meds actually made the top of my head tingle. Right, this is probably how Derry got hooked on chem. My relief was so great, my whole body slumped, and I closed my eyes in the chair for a few seconds.
“You will live, Honor C. Get out of my office.” The last sentence was pure Bea.
Now that it seemed like I would survive, and better yet, without pain, I mustered the last of my energy to get cleaned up, then stumbled to find her. When I got to the control room, she barely glanced up to verify proof of life. She was drenched in sweat; clearly we weren’t out of the woods yet, and it had cost precious time towing my ass to EMITU.
I didn’t speak as Bea flew Nadim on a complicated course to avoid the rolling, seemingly random paths of the big-and medium-sized chunks of rock, passing through the last of the debris field. Then it was just cold and dark and lonely, and I suspected neither of us had ever seen anything more purely beautiful.
Beatriz sat back in her chair and covered her face with trembling hands. She still had some crap in her hair and smelled like the waste tunnel. She quaked like an autumn leaf in a storm.