“They had to.” She looked tired but her tone was firm and reassuring. “In fact, I helped. The ship’s medic’s very young and didn’t seem to know what he was doing. I had to talk him through it.” She smiled again. “I even thought he was going to faint at one point, but we were using some smart state-of-the-art battlefield tech. Laser scalpels, self-guiding needles, accelerated healing. You should be up and around in a couple of weeks.”

“How long until we reach the Gallery?”

“Just under twenty-seven hours.”

I let my head sink back, into the pillow, feeling the weight of the drugs dragging me down…

* * *

When next I woke, my head felt clearer. The ship’s medic was standing beside my bed in a bright orange jumpsuit. He squinted at the readouts on the monitor.

“Welcome back,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

I hadn’t noticed before how young he was. But then, with a pellet lodged in my gut, I’d had other things to worry about than the age of my surgeon.

“Like the worst hangover in medical history.”

He smiled uncomfortably. He seemed unsure what to do with his hands. After a moment of dithering, he pushed them into the pockets of his suit. “You’re going to be immobile for a while,” he said.

“I really can’t afford to be.” The notion filled me with claustrophobic panic. All I wanted to do was stand up and go for a walk. Feel the sun on my face, the wind against my skin. If I couldn’t get out and about, I’d have no hope of completing my mission. And when I was well, they’d dump me back in that godforsaken jungle.

He looked embarrassed. “I don’t see you have a lot of choice, I’m afraid.”

I cleared my throat to cover my agitation. I had to get out. I just had to. “This is a battleship’s infirmary, isn’t it?”

“Um, yes.”

I felt my left eye twitch in an involuntary tic. My hands felt shaky. “You didn’t serve in the war, did you, son?”

“No.”

Neither had I, but… “Maybe if you had, you’d know what a battleship’s infirmary is for.”

He coloured. “It’s for treating the sick and injured.”

“No.” I shook my head for emphasis. My heart fluttered in my chest. I had to get out. I wanted to scream at him, and it took a superhuman effort to keep my tone level and friendly. “When you’re taking fire you have no real interest in treating anyone. What you want is for them to get on their feet and back to their posts. You want to patch them up and keep them fighting.”

He looked blank, and I began to doubt that he had anything but the most basic medical knowledge.