“Wait here.” Garuza went after the strange doctor, frowning.

The three dotters tried to figure out what had earned this reaction, but they came up blank. None of them had seen that man or woman before. They couldn’t even ascertain their gender.

Garuza quickly came back, asking that only Zax came in:

“She’s been through a lot. Sometimes, something innocent triggers that kind of reaction, pushing her to isolate herself. A sound, a smell, an intonation; it can be anything. Having less people around helps.”

“PTSD?” Zax blinked. It hadn’t looked like SG’s episodes, but she did try to stay away from people when it happened. “I’m familiar, but will she be… safe?”

To be around?

“Don’t worry. She’s actively working on it, she’s very competent, and she’s never had an episode while examining a patient. Quite the opposite actually, working gives her something to focus on. That’s why she’s still practicing.”

Now that looked like SG’s treatment.

“And why she’s practicing here and not in a healing centre, I figure?” Zax asked as he rose from his seat. He apologetically shrugged his friends, but they didn’t mind as long as he was accompanied. They would go and do their own thing, there were two rooms full of interesting toys to play with.

“Something like that.” Garuza nodded. “I trust her, and she trusts me. Also, no centres here, just clinics.”

“What’s the difference?”

As Garuza closed the door, the doctor answered in his stead.

“Healing Centres are public institutions, meaning a government representative decides the resource allocation, quality insurance, general policies and so on. Clinics are businesses, private, meaning everything is managed by a single person or a board of not necessarily medical professionals.”

Standing next to an unconscious Bathor’s bed, the traumatised woman looked… normal. A bored demeanour, but nothing betraying her first reaction. She briefly examined Zax has as he was examining her, and concluded her explanation:

“Both have different expectations and protocols. The skills, quality and resources available vary greatly, even between clinics. Same for the prices and services. Don’t mix them up, and make sure you know which you’re getting involved with.”

“Zax, meet Doctor Shelley, our physician and my newest coaching apprentice. Doctor, meet Zax, coaching hobbyist and consultant, old acquaintance of mine and hopefully a future friend of ours.” The professional coach introduced, full of sub-text.

“Nice to meet you, doctor.” Zax held his hand for a shake. “You must have a wide array of expertise, if you work here.”

“I have, mostly in anatomy and physiology, but I’m trying to branch out my practical side of the job.” The doctor weakly grabbed his hand and immediately let it go, as if afraid to be burnt.

“How is she?” Zax looked at the one-horned woman in the bed, not minding the awkward welcome.

“She’ll be fine, for now. I gave her a light sedative to help relax and let her body recuperate, and I’ll prescribe weak opiates to help her deal with the stress. That’s all it was; stress. She should wake up soon. She’ll have to be careful in the future though; if her life is that taxing, she could easily fall into addiction.”

“That’s weird.” Zax frowned. “From her behaviour since we met, she didn’t seem to care about her mission. She’s got a grip on herself since, but it shouldn’t be to the point she’d end up in that state. Her colleagues still don’t care either; they didn’t come to see her.”

“Either something changed in her situation, or deeper psychological issues are involved. In any case, we should have an answer when she wakes up, but it’ll be outside my purview.”

“I see. Why are your eyes like that?”

“What?” Unfortunately, the doctor didn’t miss the change of topic.

Zax had hoped for a brain-lapse untying her tongue.

“Wait, don’t answer that.” Garuza intervened. “I have an idea for later. For now, Zax. I was saying earlier, you could work in the Circle if you wanted. We have ways to lessen the disruptive fields, I’m sure some would work on your nanites.”

“Nanites?” The Doctor’s confusion was ignored.

“You might be undervaluing how brittle and sensitive they are.” Zax raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“See those blue walls?” A claw pointed in circle around them. “It’s a recent development. A new isolating paint, the same’s used in my office. I don’t think the news reached the dot yet, the main component is a microscopic mushroom. A living one. It greatly weakens the field, and it covers everything. Can you use that as protection?”

“If it just weakens, no. But… maybe for storage? It might be viable as solvent or capsules. Both? How big are the mushrooms? With all the 3G around, isn’t it dangerous to have a living organism covering everything in the rooms you have important technology in?”

“I don’t know the exact size, but the 3G is not an issue. The mushroom’s organism is so small and simple, we naturally rip it out of them.”

“Ah, right, ‘the 3G prefers a complex life form’.” The maxim was common knowledge, even taught to children. “That’s why mutant microbes don’t happen naturally. Worth a try in the dot, but even if it works, what kind of business opportunities do I have here? Even dotters don’t trust nano-technology, and they definitely don’t think of it as an answer to their issues.”

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“Don’t know. You said you can do anything, I’m sure you can find something. I just wanted to clear your misconception.” The muscular almost avian shrugged. “Now, I have a proposition for you. See, you’re both pretty unique cases, as far as mutations are concerned.” He opened his talons to Zax and Shelley.

It’s certainly one way to see it.

They glanced at each other. One was surprised at the change of topic, the other that this visitor would get such praise.

“Here’s my idea: I’d like you two to examine and evaluate each other’s mutation. Maybe to coach each other too, if you like the results. I think it could greatly help you both improve at several levels; I can guarantee you are something the other never considered before! Of course, you’re not allowed to directly explain your case. It would defeat the point.”

“It does sounds interesting.” Zax admitted, looking at his future subject. “I’ve never seen anything like you before.”

“Why would we do that?” Doctor Shelley asked frankly, leaning back on the bedtable. “You already know everything.”

“Curiosity?” Garuza proposed.

“Challenge?” Zax added.

“And self-improvement.” The coach crossed his furry arms. “You need the training, and don’t think I haven’t noticed your recent stagnation.”

The doctor didn’t answer and avoided his gaze.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll let you two discuss the details. I look forward to hear what you have to say.” He grinned, rubbing his scaly hands together.

“Guess I’ll spend time in the Circle no matter what.” Zax chuckled.

“Really?!” Bathor exclaimed.

Three heads turned toward the bed, watching the woman rising too fast and falling back with a hand clenching her forehead. Her wide eyes clenched shut to avoid vertigo.

“You’ve been brought to the nursing room. Do you remember what happened?”

She only remembered terrible news and a creepy laugh coming from the stars knew where. A quick examination and questions confirmed the former diagnostic and prescription, but the patient was more interested in the recent development. She had only heard the end of the conversation.

“I didn’t know how long Bathor’s tour would take, so I already prepared my job for a temporarily reduced activity. I’ll still have to go back before curfew though; I can’t leave my experiments alone that long.” Zax detailed.

“I don’t need that long to examine you, and we have everything we need here. I could start right now and be done before you leave. Might take longer to analyse the results, but I don’t need you in person for that.” Shelley proposed.

“I have everything I need too. I only need your consent, and ideally, somewhere without disruptive fields. I may be able to do without the last, but it would be inconvenient. For us both.”

“The question is already set.” She frowned.

“Not the procedure’s. I’m asking if I can put nano-technology inside your body. Billions of tiny machines that will do whatever. I can guarantee the safety of the software and hardware, but people tend to dislike the idea.” The doctor opened her mouth, but Zax didn’t let her begin. “You’d have to swallow a few pills, I’ll set them to do their thing – scan your body –, then let them do it for a while – usually a day and a night –, and get them back when it’s over. It gives me a detailed template of your body, and I go from there. I’ll probably have questions too. Now, do I have your consent? You can ask for more details from Bathor here, or from my friends outside. They’ve been though it already.”

The woman hesitated; she hadn’t expected this. She threw a questioning look to their common friend, but he kept his expression unreadable. She was on her own. She subtly, but quickly nodded.

Decisive. I respect that.

Bathor stayed evasive about the reasons behind her breakdown, but she at least knew what they were. Professionals were recommended, but contacting them would have to be her effort. Another subtle difference; doctors in the dot were allowed to schedule a mandatory health appointment with a specialist, especially for mental issues. The main computer made it a breeze.

From her subtle hints, it wasn’t that hard to figure the straw that broke the camel’s back: they or she had planned on using this visit to promise to help Zax to mutate and move in the Circle, in exchange for his help with their thing, and she had been shown the folly in that idea. Or something similar.

In any case, he was bound to come back a few times, so not all hope was lost. She went back to her team for a new change of plan, although she still didn’t want to simply explain what they needed from him.

This room had the highest protection the building had to offer, so Zax made nanites pills from the excess in his own body, smaller and more brittle than the common balls. Nanites for medical use had to avoid contact with the environment; that was one of the points of the Z-Boxes. He couldn’t bring any, so he made do. He had planned for it.

The witnesses were suitably impressed when he clapped his palms together, did nothing visible, and opened them with a pill coated with non-medical but bio-compatible building nanites. He had to do it a few times to accumulate enough, separating the type as relevant. Shelley swallowed with water as he made them. Afterwards, Zax put a palm against her belly, just below her ribcage, to send his trigger command, opening the coating and spreading in the subject’s systems.

He kept his hand in place until the key parts were installed, using their direct feedback to smooth everything out better than the program would on its own. If she was a special case, it didn’t hurt to be extra careful.

“I may want to examine your body directly later, but it can wait. Your turn now.”

Their process was straightforward; they used a complete check-up like he did his templates. Shelley took notes on his size, proportions, weight, strength, stamina, reflexes, critical and logical thinking, she questioned his diet, sleeping habits, lifestyle, hobbies… too impersonal for his tastes, but quite thorough, it had to be said. More flexible and thoughtful than it seemed too, sensitive questions were danced around and alluded to before coming.

His medical history being ready and available surprised the Residents – another cultural shock – but it was a welcome surprise.

As promised, they didn’t take that long to finish. The Resident chaperones weren’t back by the time the dotters left the dojo arcade, with a few hours to spare before they had to take the train back. When they asked, Garuza recommended a few places to visit, and where to find gatherings of least mutated people, like the ones who had sold him their templates.

Turned out, they were called the disfavoured, because “disfavoured by the 3G”.

Luckily, or because Bathor had started her search in the area, they had an officiously designated block in this bubble. Not every bubble let them stay, but in those who did, they tended to gather their personal lives in the same area, called a slum even if in pristine state. This bubble was a hotspot for them, so the slums were almost a full block.

Not a surprise. On one hand, they were cheap manpower, desperate enough to take tasks others didn’t want without complaints. On the other hand, new companies were more likely to need them as much as they needed the job, which meant better treatment and an actual possibility of long-term employment.

Those dotters in all but name helped each other and even had a sort of hierarchy. They normally used abandoned buildings – the mere idea of buildings being left unused appalling the actual dotters – and strange rumours circulated about what they did, hidden there.

From their brief interactions, Zax had fleetingly compared them to a para-society. It now rang truer than ever. The dotters were advised against going, but didn’t comment on it. This trip had already been interesting, and it could be even more so.

First things first, though: sightseeing!