Spinner lay on a slab in the infirmary, gasping in pain as his arm’s flesh rotted away before him. Around him hung his cloud of toxic air. Several meters away from him stood three very frustrated medics.
“How in Karzahni are we supposed to operate on him?” Catlin murmured.
“I had hoped you would know the answer to that,” said Tenaculum, “seeing as it was your experimental procedure that made him like this.”
“Oh, please. You’re blaming me for a mistake I couldn’t have predicted? As if your plagues and viruses haven’t gotten loose, or been corrupted, or worse!”
“At least when I make a mess, I am able to clean it up afterwards.”
“That’s it! Lariska may have broken one of your arms, but I can do something far worse to the other!”
“That’s enough,” said Bone Brush, stepping between the two medics. “Let’s focus on the problem. We have a patient suffering... uh, whatever it is he’s suffering... and you need to treat it soon, before it’s too late and he becomes my patient. There must be breathing masks somewhere around here...”
“Tenaculum, you have breathing masks in your office, right?”
“I only own the one,” said Tenaculum, “which I happen to be wearing right now.”
“You -- you’re wearing a breathing mask?” Bone Brush spluttered. “Then why aren’t you operating on him?”
Tenaculum shrugged. “Because this is our esteemed supervisor’s patient,” he said. “Her patient, her problem.”
“For the love of -- !” Bone Brush cried, and grabbed Tenaculum by his broken arm. He squawked in pain. “Look, Tenaculum, I know you’ve got grievances against Catlin, but this isn’t the time or place to act on them. This is only going to get Spinner killed, and that doesn’t help you at all. Dammit, he hates Catlin and Lariska even more than you do! I expected you to rush to his aid, not leave him to die.”
Tenaculum muttered something inaudible.
“Look, ‘Beaky’ -- you can stand by and let this asshole die if you like,” said Catlin. “He probably deserves it. He’s been nothing but horrible to me and Lariska. But I have a job to do, and unlike you, I’m not going to neglect it because of a petty grudge. So you have a choice: either operate on the patient, or hand the mask over so I can do my job.”
Tenaculum glared at Catlin. Then he turned his gaze towards Spinner, writhing on the slab.
“I’ll do it,” he grumbled. “But you’ll supply me with tools and ointments.”
“Deal,” said Catlin. She turned and walked to the cabinets, while Tenaculum strode over to Spinner’s slab.
“Necrosis of the flesh,” Tenaculum diagnosed. “Bring me essence of Kraata and vuata resin, and get the...”
Bone Brush watched the two work for a bit, then turned and left the room. And people think all I do is chop off limbs, he mused.
