Rhodoreef

37. The Sick Bay

Dea buried her head in her hands. This can't be real. This isn't real.

She fought down the sob that surfaced. It was as if a whirlwind snuffed out the moment of respite. Here she was in one piece while Anuk was doomed to bear the fallout of her failure. She was the one who should have lost an arm. She was the one who should have been maimed.

As the tempest roared within, she tuned out the noise that swelled around her.

"Listen, folks." Nadie's yell rose above the clamor. "I'm going to go check up on Anuk and the others in the sick bay. We have to be ready for anything and decide our course of action. It's going to be a rough night, so get some rest while you can."

"I want to see him," Dea said, eyes boring into the captain.

"He's probably not even awake. You can see him later when—"

"Please."

Nadie finally acquiesced. As Dea followed behind in silence, the first stars peeked out in the inky blue expanse above.

The sick bay was located below deck. It was impossible to maneuver down the narrow steps in the military Cypod.

"Here, let me help," Nadie said, turning around.

Dea barely grabbed her ogi before the captain heaved her onto a shoulder. It was uncomfortable, but she made no complaints. Her short tresses dangled down and waved to the rhythm of the woman's motion. Anuk's alive. He's alive.

She kept repeating it while counting each step that popped into view. One, two, three and a dozen steps later, the riptide of guilt rushed against the hope in her heart. But he lost his arm because of you. Sagari and the others are injured or dead because of you. If you found a better way to get the prisoners out, this wouldn't have happened. She clamped her eyes shut to quell the horrific images.

They traversed through a narrow corridor, passing watertight metal doors.

Nadie gripped a handle and turned it. "We're here."

As the door hissed open to reveal the sick bay, Dea fidgeted and strained for a good view. The captain adjusted her weight and walked in.

The place bore a striking resemblance to a merman hospital setting, except for the lack of water. It was cramped due to several beds, medical equipment and supplies. Her gaze snagged on a water-filled tub squeezed next to a bed. Sagari was in it, plugged to a ventilator.

A merwoman leaned against the tub, applying moisturizer on her skin. It was none other than Gog, the nomad neuroscientist from the deep-sea lair. As Nadie passed her, she looked up and glowered at Dea, but said nothing.

The beds were occupied, and a medic was bandaging someone's arm. At the opposite end, green curtains obscured what lay beyond, which Dea thought must serve as an operating room or an intensive care unit. Her heart thumped louder in her chest.

A middle-aged man with glasses emerged, dressed in a simple green outfit.

"Doc, how's he doing?" Nadie asked immediately, coming to a stop.

"The surgery was a success." He wiped his forehead. "Needed a blood transfusion. He's stable now, but not yet conscious."

The captain sighed. "Thank you, Doc."

As Merlingo translated the words into her ear, Dea sagged against the captain's shoulder and pulled in a shuddering breath.

"It was also a novel experience working with a talented merperson." The man's eyes switched to Gog. "She knew how to optimize the operation for bionics."