The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)

I turned my gaze from one to the other and then settled on Dr. Tierney. “What’s the problem?”

She sighed and folded her arms over her chest. “Viggo, the metacarpals in some of his fingers are so fractured that I am not going to be able to piece them back together. He’s going to lose a lot of mobility in his hand, and each minute we waste not doing surgery, the more likely it’ll be that I’ll have to amputate instead of trying to repair what I can.”

“Why won’t he let you operate?” I asked.

“Because there are people in more dire need,” replied Alejandro. “I’m fine! I can wait until things calm down. Maybe in a day or so we can—”

“You need surgery now!” Dr. Tierney insisted, and I could tell by the frustrated tone in her voice that this argument had been going on for quite some time. “I’d drug you if I could, but you won’t even let me put a damned IV in your arm—”

“Because you’d drug me,” he cut in smoothly.

“And you are risking any and all functionality on your dominant hand for no good reason! Earlier we couldn’t prioritize you, but now—”

“I’m fine!” Alejandro insisted belligerently, sitting forward. “You just… go check on Violet and Solomon.”

Dr. Tierney cast him a glare and then stalked off, clearly unwilling to argue any further. I hesitated, and then hung back, looking into the man’s blue eyes. “You need to get the surgery, Alejandro,” I said gently. “And if you don’t agree to it, I’m going to go hunt Jenny down and bring her here.”

Alejandro shot me a death glare, his face already screwing up to tell me to mind my own business, when Mags leaned back in the bed and crossed her legs, smiling like a cat who had just gotten into the cream.

“I already sent some people to pick her up,” she declared with an impish smile. “As soon as I heard that he was being difficult.”

Alejandro froze, his jaw open, his face going pale. “Oh, nooo…” he groaned, slumping against his pillows. “That woman is impossible when I’m sick, Viggo.”

I snorted, not feeling a moment of pity for him, and gave Mags a high-five before moving back over to Violet. Dr. Tierney was showing Violet some images on her handheld. As I came up behind them I could see that they were x-rays of the bullet and Jay’s spine, the bullet only a few millimeters away.

“As you can see, it’s quite close, but there’s no sign that it hit, which is good. None of the organs were damaged either, so once the swelling goes down, I’m hoping to get in there, remove the bullet, and then we’ll know for sure how bad it’s going to be. But surgery carries risks, and there’s a chance that by doing this, I could actually make it worse. He could lose function in one, if not both, of his legs, if he hasn’t lost it already. Now, if you’re satisfied, may I please examine you and your arm?”

I smiled, realizing that Violet had refused to let Dr. Tierney examine her until she knew the details about Jay. Violet nodded, and Dr. Tierney quickly ran her scanner over her, examining the results.

I watched as her face turned from stern, to mystified, to curious and shocked. “The break is fully healed,” she exclaimed in awe. “I’ve… I’ve never seen anything like this!”

“The doctors at the…” Violet trailed off, and I could see her trying to decide how much to tell Dr. Tierney now. “Well, it’s a very weird story, but some doctors that I met—you’ll be briefed later—used this,” said Violet, holding up the slightly crumpled plastic sheet in her hand. “There’s some sort of liquid inside that gets injected into you—although I never felt anything, except my arm feeling a thousand times better.”

Dr. Tierney examined the plastic, prodding it a few times. Grabbing a tray off the nightstand, she spread the plastic out and then used a scalpel to carefully cut out a few of the hexagonal shapes and drop them into a petri dish lying nearby.

“I’ll see if we can’t scrounge up something to do an analysis,” she said, placing the lid over it. “In the meantime, do you have any more questions?”

“Only if you’ve had a chance to look at Solomon. The same group, they put this kind of goop in his wounds, and it looked like it was becoming skin tissue. It might be too late for you to get a sample of what it is, but if we could replicate that, it would be…”

Dr. Tierney’s eyes went wide, her normally sharp voice rising a bit in intensity. “A medical miracle. I’m on it. Just shout if you need anything else, and… I’m glad to see that you’re all okay.” She embraced Violet tightly, and then stood, cradling the tray in her hands. “I’ll go check on Solomon now and do a small biopsy.”

“Thanks. Also… how are you keeping him? I don’t want him to wake up tied down, if he doesn’t have to.”

Dr. Tierney hesitated, and then frowned. “I’ve got some of the Benuxupane we took off of Cody when Viggo first brought him back. Before you get upset, Dr. Arlan has been toying with it, and I think a small dose might be able to help him be more… level-headed. It’s not great, but it’ll hopefully keep him from flying off the handle and hurting anyone unintentionally. Would you like me to try it?”

Violet hesitated, and I couldn’t blame her. It was a difficult call to make. On the one hand, Solomon was violent, but he’d been showing improvements according to Violet. Yet this was Benuxupane—a drug designed to take away the ability to feel, then modified to also make the taker compliant to all commands, and none of us liked putting a fellow human into that kind of state.

“Can we move him to a more isolated room and just see how he reacts when he gets up?” Violet asked, her eyes wide. “I’d hate to do that to him for no reason, and I’m sure he’s getting better. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt without resorting to that.”

Dr. Tierney didn’t react other than to nod, and then she walked away, heading for a door leading off to the side that served as the bathroom. Likely she had set up a surgical unit inside, as it would be the easiest place to clean quickly.

“Hey, Viggo, Violet,” said a soft voice to the right of Jay, and I turned and saw Quinn in the next bed over, a patch over his eye and pink scars crisscrossing his face. “I heard you had quite an adventure! Tell me about The Outlands—being injured sucks so bad, and there’s barely anyone to talk to while you all are away.” He paused, the hesitant smile on his face flickering in and out. “You have been running around so much, it’s hard to even know what’s been going on.”

“Oh Quinn,” said Violet, reaching across the narrow gap to gently take his hand. “I’m sorry, and I understand how it feels to be left out of everything. I’m just glad you’re healing up so quickly, and soon you’ll get out of here.”

He gave her a crooked smile, but it was clear he didn’t believe her. Or rather, he knew it was true, but wasn’t very excited about the prospect. Not that I could blame him. He had suffered devastatingly under Tabitha’s blade, and she had taken so much from him. It was impossible for me not to feel angry with her.