“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.
Chapter 25. Kella
The police station was unusually noisy for a weeknight. Gray-suited street officers dragged in angry teenagers, drunks, and prostitutes every few minutes. But the stream of foot traffic remained confined to the hall between the front door and the overnight holding cells, without a single message coming back to the detectives’ offices. Kella was straightening up her desk for the evening when she saw the desk sergeant coming her way with a young woman behind him. He walked quickly to reach her desk ahead of the woman and he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “It’s about that special address you mentioned earlier.” He stepped away with a wink and then hurried back to the front desk.
Kella shook the young woman’s hand, noting the worry lines on her forehead and clamminess of her hands. “Miss? I’m Detective Kella Massi. Let’s just go over here to a private room and you can tell me what happened, all right?” She motioned toward a half-open door and the woman went inside, tightly clutching her shoulder bag with both hands.
The electric bulb in the ceiling was burnt out, but a lamp was glowing on the table and the small room was bright and warm. The woman sat down at the table as the detective closed the door behind them. She said, “My name is Jedira Amadi. I’m a medical technician at the prosthetics shop just a few blocks over on Greenwood Road. That’s where I saw it. I mean, that’s what I came to tell you about. I need to report a…a medical crime.”
“Greenwood Road.” Doctor Medina. Kella sat down across from the woman and slowly pulled out a small pad and pencil from her jacket pocket. So it’s started already. Or have they been coming in all along and I’m just now getting in on the madness? “All right. Start at the beginning. Take your time.”