A middle-aged woman at the wedding had been quick to praise the Espani doctor and just as quick to spout off the directions to her offices. Over the din of the music, Taziri had asked for them repeated, twice, but as she wound through the city she began to suspect she had gotten the last several turns wrong. A strolling policeman was able to set her right and twenty minutes later she found the grimy number plate of the doctor’s office on a large stone building that appeared much older than the row houses to either side of it.
She pounded on the front door, waited, and pounded again. I’m too late, of course. Everyone’s gone home for the night.
Taziri was about to turn away when she heard soft footsteps echoing inside the building and a few moments later the locks clicked and the door swung open. A young woman with grease-smeared cheeks and dark bags under her eyes smiled politely from the shadowed entrance. “Yes?”
Taziri’s empty stomach twisted into a tight lump. Oh my God, this is her. No, wait, she doesn’t look Espani. “Hi. I’m sorry about the late hour, I wasn’t sure anyone would be here. Are you Doctor Medina?”
“No, I’m one of her assistants. We’re closed for the night. I thought you might be a friend of mine bringing a bit of supper, but I guess I’m going hungry tonight. Again.” She stuck her tongue out and grinned. “Is there something I can do for you, or do you want to come back tomorrow when the doctor is in?”
“Uhm. Well, I’m not sure, really. I guess I should come back tomorrow.”
The woman frowned. “What’s wrong with your hand?”
Taziri glanced down and discovered she’d been massaging the numb fingers of her left hand again. Her wrist felt so weak she was almost afraid to lift her hand to wave it. “Oh. It’s nothing. There was a fire the other night and something hit my arm.”
“Did a doctor take a look at it?” The woman stepped out into the street, her frown deepening. “Did they send you here? Why did you wait? You should have come right away. Burns are very dangerous. They’re difficult to assess correctly and they can grow worse if not treated properly.”
Taziri’s first thought went to the shivering wreckage of Medur Hamuy, curled up and shaking like a frightened child on the deck of the Halcyon. My God, could that be happening to me? Could I be dying from this burn? What about Menna? Suddenly her heart was pounding and she had to swallow to clear her throat. “There was so much going on. I didn’t think it was that bad.”
“You didn’t think?” The woman glanced around at the distant streetlamps. “Come inside so I can take a look at it. Come on.” She led Taziri into the cavernous building down a long hallway with a wooden floor that snapped and creaked with every step they took. They passed several open and closed doors and finally came to a large room at the back of the building where a handful of burning candles and lanterns revealed a workshop filled with mechanical bits for peg-legs and hook-hands, some crude and simple made of wood, and others elegant and complex made of shining metals.
“My name is Jedira, by the way.” The woman motioned her guest onto a stool beside a work bench.
“Taziri.”
“Hello, Taziri. Nice jacket. Air Corps? Is that how you got the burn?”
“Yes. The fire in Tingis.” Taziri grabbed the cuff of her sleeve but Jedira stopped her and together they very gingerly slid the engineer’s arm out of the armored flight jacket.
Taziri went cold at the sight of her arm. The sleeve of her thermal shirt was black and twisted and threaded with blobs of red and white something. Her hands began to shake but Jedira quickly produced a pair of scissors and cut away the sleeve as gently as possible, tugging her skin only slightly as the last of the fabric came away. In the bright light of the lantern beside her, Taziri saw a black band of scorched flesh around her coppery forearm. The color contrast alone brought the taste of bile to her mouth. But as she rotated her arm, she saw that it was no longer a smooth column of flesh connecting her elbow to her wrist, but a gnarled and twisted tree branch. It almost looked as though a small dog had taken a bite out of the underside of her forearm, though the weeping sores and mangled skin appeared miraculously intact. At least I can’t see any muscle or bone. She swallowed hard to get the burning acidic taste out of her throat. “Is it bad?”
Jedira nodded. “I’m sorry. You see this pale area? This means the blood vessels are severed and probably dead by now. There’s no blood getting to your muscle, so it’s dying. Any weakness in your arm or hand?”
Taziri nodded.
“How long has it been now since the fire?”
“One day exactly.”
“Okay.” Jedira selected a magnifying glass from her tool rack and inspected the burn again. “Well, I would guess that the worst is over. Or at least, the worst has happened. Your fingers still have their color, so there’s blood getting to your hand. That’s very good. You could have lost your whole hand.”
Taziri shuddered, unable to process the idea of losing a part of her body.
“Any loss of feeling? Numbness, tingling, coldness?”
Taziri nodded. “I can’t feel these two fingers at all. I can move them, but they feel sort of rubbery or wooden.”
“Well, that might be temporary, but it might not. It means nerve damage. If it’s minor, then it might heal. I really can’t guess, though.”
Taziri reached out slowly with her right hand to ever so lightly touch the burned flesh on her left forearm. It was hot, stiff, and dry, with fibers from her sleeve still embedded in it. “So it’s not going to get better?” What is Yuba going to say when he sees this? It’s disgusting. I can’t let Menna see it. It will give her nightmares.
“After the area recovers from the shock of the burn, and the dead flesh comes away, your skin will adapt. It will dry out and stiffen, sort of like a scar. You’re lucky that it didn’t happen near a joint, like your elbow, or it might have seized up your whole arm as it healed.”
“But I can barely lift my hand as it is. Isn’t there anything I can do?”
“There’s a sink behind you. Run the water over the burn, gently, just for a minute. Don’t rub it or anything. Let’s get it cleaned off.”
When Taziri returned from the sink, she still held her arm away from her body at an awkward angle, not willing to risk moving it and damaging it further. It was still unreal, still a horrible dream and some part of her mind was willing to sleepwalk through it until it ended and she woke to find her arm healthy and whole again.
Jedira promptly fetched a white case from another table and opened it beside them. She produced a roll of gauze and began lightly wrapping it around Taziri’s arm from the elbow all the way to the wrist. “You’ll need to take this off to rinse the area once a day. But the rest of the time you need to keep it covered. Okay?”
Taziri nodded. I can deal with this. It’s just a broken part. Nothing to get worked up about. A damaged arm. Treat it right, follow the instructions, and everything will be okay. I can do that. With the gauze hiding the burn and even camouflaging the deformed outline of her forearm, Taziri felt her nerves settling. It doesn’t look so bad now. Just a bit of gauze. That’s nothing. She flexed her fingers and felt how heavy and clumsy her hand felt wobbling on her wrist. “I can’t support it. I can’t hold it still. I’m not going to be able to use my tools, or…shit. Or fly the ship.” She covered her mouth with her right hand and stared off into space. What am I going to do? How am I going to support Yuba and Menna?
“Now that I can fix,” Jedira said cheerfully. She hopped off her stool and dashed away to another table, and another bin, and another shelf, and returned with a handful of metal parts. She held up an aluminum tube that tapered slightly at one end. “This is a standard medical brace. We use them for all sorts of things, but mostly setting broken bones. Here.” She opened the tube like a clam shell on its tiny hinges and carefully closed it over Taziri’s bandaged arm. Three small clasps closed with sharp clicks. “There. Almost a perfect fit. And now you put on this glove.”
The fingers of the leather glove had been snipped away and thin brass plates had been stitched to the palm and the back of the hand. After Taziri slipped it on, Jedira set about screwing a set of slender rods into place connecting the brace to the glove. When she was done, the rods and plates held Taziri’s hand rigidly in place while allowing her fingers to move freely.
Taziri waved her armored arm around, trying to get used to the weight of the contraption. It was awkward, but not unbearable. And while it was strange not being able to swivel her hand back and forth, with a few tries she found she could easily pick up the tools on the table or from the rack and get her fingers around them to use them properly. “This is great. I can work with this. If I keep this on, will my arm be able to heal? Will my wrist get stronger?”
Jedira pressed her lips and shook her head. “No. You’ll have to keep wearing the brace to use your hand. In fact, with your hand immobilized, what’s left of your wrist muscles will atrophy from lack of use.”
“So…” Taziri stared at the heavy metal thing strapped and bolted to her body. “…so I’m going to have to wear this for the rest of my life?”
“I’m afraid so,” Jedira said. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but you should count yourself lucky. The injury could have been much, much worse. You’ll keep your hand, and with a little practice with the brace, you’ll probably be able to keep working, too.”
It was too much to think about all at once. The idea of losing her hand, or even dying. The idea of not being able to work and support her family. The idea of becoming one of those people who sits at home all day, every day, alone, waiting for someone to come and help them, to feed them. And now this alternative, this new life with a metal arm.
“Thank you.” Taziri shook herself out of the spiraling questions and images of things that might have been or might still yet happen. “Thank you for this. For everything. Thank you, so much. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing.” Jedira wiped her hands on a rag, smiling. “Everything here is free to the public.”
“But who pays for it all?”
“Lady Sade, of course. She brought Doctor Medina here to help with worker injuries, and the doctor has been training the rest of us to make and use prosthetics. For free.”
Taziri nodded. Medina treats injured workers for free by day. And then what? She puts electrical weapons into patients by night? What is going on here? “Well, if I don’t see the doctor or Lady Sade, please thank them for me. And if you’re ever in Tingis, my door is open to you.”
“Thank you very much. Are you going to be okay with that?” Jedira nodded at the brace. “The rods are stronger than they look, but you’ll need to keep the parts clean, just like your burn.”
Taziri smiled and a warmth filled her cheeks. “Keeping machines running is what I do best. I think I’ll manage.”
The walk back to the bed-and-breakfast was slow and ended with Taziri sitting on the edge of a bed across from a snoring Ghanima. She removed her jacket carefully, sliding it off over the rods and plates. Taziri sat in the pale moonlight and stared at her arm. It was awkward. It was going to be awkward for a long time. But it was okay. She had a long time to get used to it. And time made all the difference.