My joke earned me another attack from Nora (“Booo!”), but I dodged this one, too.
Vrach smiled faintly—whether at my joke or Nora’s antics, I wasn’t sure. “I didn’t know you went after murderers,” he said.
I nodded. “Maybe one day. In the meantime, I’m counting on the militsiya to do their job.”
I felt something soft but surprisingly heavy land on my knees. Nora, tired of trying to attack me, had flounced back on me instead. I saw her cat eyes looking up at me.
“Danya, is this about work?” she asked.
“Yep. And I’m not going to let you help.”
“Heh-heh! I wasn’t going to. I’ve got my own job to do, so there!” I’m busy!
She was full of pluck and every bit as beautiful as her older sister, but I couldn’t ignore what she had said. “You making some pocket change?”
“Nuh-uh!” Nora pursed her lips. “But I have to respect con…con-fy-dentiality, too!”
“You have to respect what now?” She’d obviously learned the word by rote. What a kid.
I mussed her hair mercilessly; she exclaimed, “Nooo!” and tried to twist away. “Hey, stop that! I finally got it set. You’re messing it up!”
“Copying Uchitel again?”
“It’s not copying—it’s called uvazheniye <respect>!”
“Same thing.”
“No, it’s not! Uchitel is an amazing person!”
“You’ve never even seen her face.”
Oh, shut up! Nora was well and truly pouting now.
Uchitel—the Teacher. A Janitor who rose from the back alleys all on her own, despite being a woman. Once she took up her vibroblade, she dealt death without so much as treading on a shadow—and she was supposed to be full cyborg, from the hair on her head to the tips of her fingers.
And yet, though she stood in a pool of blood, this woman could smile so sweetly she’d steal your heart.
—At least, that’s what they say.
You heard her name, but you never ran into anyone who had actually met this woman—because the ones who had were probably dead. She was a legend of the shadows. Something that didn’t exist, like Baba Yaga.
There were all kinds of rumors: She was a super soldier. She was a rusalka <water sprite>.
I didn’t have time to be screwing around with urban legends, and I’d had my fill of humoring my little sister, too.
“Tell me, Vrach. If you ever met a monster cyborg, what would you do?”
“Run away, no question.”
The obvious answer. I nodded.
“And if I ever ran into one? What should I do?”
“I’d still recommend running away.”
God, he was absolutely right. I nodded again.
“And if that wasn’t an option?”
“Reserve a hospital bed just in case you come back alive.”
Yeah, good advice. I took the envelope out of my pocket and removed several rubles. “I found this on the ground outside the hospital. It’s not your money by any chance, is it, Doc?”
“Oh! Huh, you know, it might be. Thanks. That’s a big help.”
Nora’s ash-colored eyes flitted back and forth like a cat’s as the money changed hands above her. I petted her head again gently, encouraging her to remember how this sort of thing went down.
“I’d appreciate some health advice,” I said. “To help you keep the number of patients down in here. What do you say?”
“Well, since you asked… I still think it’s best to run away.”
Vrach must have been feeling pretty conflicted at that moment, being a doctor and all. There was no real answer other than exercise and eating a healthy diet. I felt bad, but I was asking because I didn’t want to die, either. We had the same goal.
And as they say, yazyk do Kiyeva dovedyet <your tongue will get you all the way to Kyiv>. If you don’t know the way, just ask around, and you’ll find your way there with no trouble. As long as you don’t collapse on the road.
“I should start by saying that I can’t give you any guarantees—it depends on the kachestvo <quality> of the mechanization.”
“If you’re wrong, the next time you see me it’ll be when I’m cursing you from my hospital bed. Maybe you can give me a discount on my treatment.”
It wasn’t like I was asking him to give me the answers to a test. It wouldn’t be a good look to complain just because he was wrong.
Hell, I would be pretty lucky if I was still able to complain.
Vrach sighed, then said slowly, “Even machines can break. Just like organics. And when they do, they stop moving. Even more than organics.”
“You’re suggesting I should bust them up before the trouble starts?”
“Mechanization procedures were created for outer-space development, then appropriated for wounded soldiers.”
That, I knew. Thanks to her. But I didn’t see fit to give her any grief about it.
Vrach paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, he sounded deeply distressed. “And the cheaper the work is, the more they skimp on stuff that was originally designed to cope with cosmic rays.”
“Because we’re earthlings, huh? Zond VIII is a long way off.”
“The plains are our true home.”
I smirked at that and got up, helping myself to some painkillers I spotted on a shelf. “Where’s the coagulant gel?” I asked as I stuffed them in my pocket.
“Fifth shelf,” said Nora, who had been unceremoniously evicted from my knees. I gratefully grabbed a pack of the stuff, letting another ruble drop from my envelope.
“All right, well, if I don’t die, I hope you’ll take care of me.”
“I hope you won’t see fit to increase my workload,” Vrach replied with a grim smile. “I’ve got to change the batteries in Nora’s claws after this.”
I heard Nora cry “Ugh!” She jumped up and landed on the floor like a cat who was about to get a bath. She didn’t actually run away, though—because I was there, or because Vrach was?
Or maybe she just knew she couldn’t escape. She looked at me as if hoping to find an excuse. “Hey, Danya. Do you really not need my help?”
“Of course not. I think you should be more worried about yourself.”
Booo! She pouted at me, but what else was I going to say? It didn’t matter if her batteries were fresh. I was never going to let my little sister in on this.
“I’ll do what I can. And if it’s not enough…” I looked up at the sheet that served as the ceiling, corrugated iron or whatever it was, and shrugged. “Then I guess it’s ‘bozhe moi <God save me>.’ ”