Hands

Characters: Dr. Mira Trassano


Mira had her hands on bloody flesh, preparing to suture Karina’s arm. G’ren hovered over her shoulder and watched. Mira lay her hands to the wound to hold the edges closed and even.


 

Mira wasn’t holding a bloody arm. She held a tray of instruments in her hands. It was sooo heavy. She was sooo small. The tray trembled gently. She could hear her brothers arguing about something in the distant reaches of the garden outside her Father’s office window. I’m truly here again.

“Daughter, come a bit closer, I don’t want to have to reach so far for my instruments.” Her Father smiled broadly at her and whispered, “I am proud of you.” The little boy on his table whimpered, drawing her attention, and bit his lip. He had fallen and cut his leg open. Now, it had to be sewn shut. Her Father’s hands seemed huge against the smallness of the boy’s leg. I remember this. I’m being punished for painting Lissia’s dranko purple. I still think it looked much better purple.

Father was very carefully suturing the boy’s leg. His movements practiced and certain. I have to tell him. I have to warn him about Cartagia. I can’t let Father die all over again.

“Father—”


 

The Comm blared to life. “I want every division head up here ASAP. You can all spare the time.” It was, needless to say, the captain. Mira stared down at her bloody hands.

Mira’s lips tightened and she finished closing Karina’s wound. “I might have the time, but do your wounded crew?” she muttered in bitter Centauri. She deliberately took her time. She could hear her Father saying, ‘Never rush, you lose more time than you save.’ She could feel the tears coming on, being so close to warning her Father. Why?! Why must he die for me? She closed her eyes for a moment and pulled herself together. I can deal with this later. Then, Mira looked up at the tall Narn, G’ren, and smiled brightly at him.

“She will be fine, Anla’shok G’ren. You may leave her here in good faith that she’ll be on her feet and back to duty within days.” Mira patted the Narn’s arm. “I have to go to the bridge,” she told him absent-mindedly.

Mira’s mind wasn’t on her words, not even on her actions. She scanned her MedLab and judged that the chaos was well in hand. Mr Daley was studiously sterilizing everything he could get his hands on and returning them where he found them. Ms Morgan, Evers’ guest, was being most helpful in administering basic first aid to the walking wounded. Dr Trassano had almost swallowed a heart when Ms Morgan had woken up. Most unexpected, her awakening, she thought distractedly to herself.

Dr Trassano couldn’t find anyone to leave in charge of Med-Lab. Evers and Brannon were out on other decks and Carter was on the bridge. Well, Carter will just have to bring himself right back down here. The doors swished open and she feared more wounded even as she turned to see.

“Mr Carter! Thank S’ran-to, that you read my mind! Stay here. You’re in charge of MedLab, while I’m on the bridge.” Mira nodded firmly to him and swooped up a MedKit on her way out the door. In the turbolift, she cleaned her hands and pulled a sterilizing pad out of her pocket. She found herself wondering if she might not ought to detour and check on Evers and Brannon. Before she even finished the thought, the lift doors swished open and she found herself on the bridge.


Copyright (C) 1998 Mona Hinds. All rights reserved.