I followed the waypoints Galatea gave me and found the girl in black. She had dragged herself into a dark corner and looked not good. She wasn’t moving and my night-vision showed something dripping from her lips. When I looked closer, I saw bubbly blood on her lips. A cold shiver ran down my spine and a quick scan with both, x-ray and ultrasound not only proved my first suspicion true, it revealed something even worse. Her ribs were broken and the fragments had caused internal damage, not only was one of her lungs pierced, other fragments had damaged her stomach, causing blood to seep into the stomach and releasing stomach acid into her flesh.
Galatea gave a surprised gasp and my own stomach knotted in guilt and discomfort. My pride had made me wait before helping her. I could have helped earlier and possibly prevented her injuries. And the injuries were severe. Without swift, surgical help, she would most likely die, even with her durability and possibly regeneration. Broken off ribs were still causing havoc in her organs, aggravating the damage.
“Help her, Alex. Help her, or you will be sorry for a long time. Believe me, you want to help her.” Galatea beseeched me.
I knew that I either had to bring her to a hospital or into my base. My base had worse treatment-conditions but it would allow her to remain free. Going to the hospital would get her into custody without doubt. I tried talking to her, but she was completely unresponsive and running a high fever. I’d have to decide.
After hesitating for half a second, I made my decision based on my wishes, if I were in her situation. I would rather die than get caught but I would rather live than die in an dank alley. With that, my choice was clear. Galatea would not forgive me if I abandoned the girl and I would not forgive me if I delivered her to the league. Well, didn’t some parents want their children to become successful surgeons? I would just have to prove that I had what it took.
I saw an old, wooden palette lying around and used it as an impromptu gurney, trying to shift her upper body as little as possible. Every move could cause extra damage, possibly even fatal damage.
Picking her up was childsplay with my armour, but I was limited to a semi-fast run while Galatea took inventory of the injuries and listed the necessary medical supplies. I had enough for a mean burn or superficial cuts but for full surgery? There were a lot of supplies lacking. I did not dare to run up the hill, so I had to take a detour and on the way, I saw a pharmacy and decided to make my debut as a true criminal, robbing a closed store.
After placing the palette down, I simply walked through the door, relying on my armour to do so. With the blaring alarm, I had no reason to hide, so quickly moved behind the counter, scanning the various drawers for the supplies I needed. I had never shopped that quick, as I simply grabbed whatever Galatea marked and grabbed a plastic bag to carry it all. I left a small note, saying that Metis apologized for damaging the store and would pay for the damage and the taken supplies.
Less than two minutes later, I was back out and picked up my wounded passenger, before running off again as I heard a police-siren blare a block or two away. Hurrying up, I managed to vanish into the darkness before I was spotted. Taking a relatively level path, I was soon at my base, carefully climbing down into the darkness.
Galatea had prepared my medical bay to the best of her ability but the limited supplies and the limitations of her robots hindered her. If I wanted her to live, I’d have to hurry. After placing her on my table I started to cut away the necessary parts of her costume, taking great care to leave as much covered as I could. The revealed skin was a nice, olive tone and hard muscles under a soft, fleshy cushion. I forced my attention to the task at hand, so I did not get distracted by the new visuals. When I was done cutting her costume, I set an anesthesia afterwards I realized the first problem.
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She had some flavour of Atlas-Powerset, with its increased durability. I could not pierce her skin to lay an infusion, something Galatea deemed necessary. The needles were simply not hard and sharp enough. And if those did not work, the standard scalpels would not fare better. In a fit of desperation, I drew my k-bar and after sterilizing it with some hot plasma and cooling it back down, I made a small puncture, managing to nick her vein and insert the infusion.
Feeling the cool sensation of my trance wash over me, I fought back. There was no way I could do that without Galatea’s input so I had to manage without the calming and empowering effect of my trance. I’d just have to tough it out.
Using the advanced scanners of my armour allowed me to see the damage and Galatea and her encyclopedic knowledge assessed it. The whole thing turned into a teamwork between the two of us, communicating with sounds, sight and small nudges using the suit. It was almost as if we merged into one, frantically working to do the right thing. Galatea proved to be the queen of the multi-task once more when one of her robots delivered a needle made out of the same material the scales were made from, sharpened almost to the same degree my knife was sharpened and allowing me to suture the cuts I made close.
Hours later, I closed the last incision, and wrapped her wounds in gauze. She would have to take pills for a few days, mainly antibiotics but she would live. Looking closer, her temperature was already sinking, she probably had a healing factor, helping her recovery.
Her heart-rate slowly increased, indicating that she would soon wake up from unconsciousness and I did not want an unpredictable Powered awake in my base. I might be able to win against her, but fighting in her state would most likely reopen her wounds, both external and internal, undoing all the work I had just done. Using the palette I had used before, I picked her back up and left my base again.
After picking a small clearing up on the hill, I waited for her to wake up. It did not take long for her to start twitching and her eyes fluttered open.
“Careful, you don’t want to rip the sutures.” I said in a distorted but cleary female voice.
Ignoring my warning, she tried sitting back up, only to moan in pain and sink back down.
“What…? Where am I!? Who are you?” she asked in an confused and muddled voice, sounding so very young, so unlike the sarcastic tone she had used before.
“Well, let us start at the end. I am calling myself Metis, you can do so as well. For our location, we are in the forest, obviously, and slightly above the old Brunsburg. What happened, you ask? You lost against Captain Jackass and his sidekick, they kicked your ass badly. Last time you saved me, this time I repaid the favour. Sadly, you were quite banged up before I intervened and I had to decide what to do with you. Letting you die in a ditch did not quite fit my plan to even the scales between us and bringing you to a hospital did not feel right as well. I know I would rather die than get caught by the league so I chose option three, saving your life without a hospital. You are welcome.” I told her in a serene tone, trying to keep her calm and collected.
“You what? Metis? I have never heard that name!” She blurted out in confusion. Had I been too late and she had suffered brain damage? Did the anesthesia still have lingering effects?
“It is not surprising that you never heard the name. After all, you are the first person I took the time to introduce me to. I would be highly surprised if you had heard of me.
What I have done is close a hole in your right lung, close three perforations in your stomach, remove a multitude of bone-splinters from your internal organs and glue most of those splinters back in place, fixing your ribs. Looking at my scans, you are already healing and healing well at that. Truly lucky to get a healing factor but it does not make you invulnerable.” I told her, trying to gauge her reactions and assess possible brain damage.
“You are telling me that you operated on me? Everyone knows it’s impossible to operate on people with durability.” she said, her tone turning from adorably confused into accusing snarl in a hurry.
I simply took out a small mirror, showing her the sutures and incisions. For a first timer, they looked quite good, clean, even-distanced and close together, all to heal with as little scarring as possible. I was not sure her regeneration would take care of the scars and it felt wrong to mar her like that.
“Well, if everyone knows that, I guess everyone is wrong. There are few absolutes in this world, you know? Anyway, you should take an antibiotic before breakfast and dinner and you can cut out the sutures in four days if I see your healing factor right. Using a small knife, you can do that yourself or if you need help, you can send an message to this address. I will find it.” I told her and handed her a small paper with a very well hidden throwaway email address on it. “Now, take it easy, or you will undo my work.” with that, I turned and started walking away.
“Thank you. I owe you one. When we meet again, you can call me Anath.” I heard her call out behind me. Anath. Interesting.