This is what happens when you care too much, Ify wants to tell her. All those conversations Grace had with her—about food, about grandfathers, about Earthland—gone. Wherever the Cantonese woman’s mind and spirit has gone in death, she has taken all those things with her. And left Grace with the grief that is surely shaking in her bones. None of what Grace did could save this woman. Now look at you, Ify wants to say, then wonders where this cruelty is coming from.

“There was a spike in brain activity just prior to her flatlining,” the nurse continues.

Ify had expected to find relief in treating patients other than the children who had fallen even deeper into their comas, but there is no deliverance waiting for her here. Not for the first time, she wonders if she is the right person to direct the Refugee Program. Something has cracked inside her. “How was her sleep cycling in the week prior?”

“Irregular. She was also being treated for sleep paralysis and obstructed airways disease.”

“Sleep apnea?”

“No. A lung disorder.”

Ify makes a note of that. They should have seen this coming. Still, so many of their patients had come in with irregular sleep cycles and damaged respiratory function. Hospital protocol and Alabastrine law prevented cyberization without the consent of the patient or the patient’s guardian. But what to do with those patients who could not understand the language Ify or the others spoke? Ify and the rest of her staff had the electronic capabilities to immediately translate whatever language they heard, but they could not speak it back to those who lacked that technology. And so many of the refugees had been unaccompanied minors. No guardian to give permission for them. No guardian to guide them through this new, terrifying, sterile world.

Grace has long since stopped taking notes; she only stares blankly at the deceased.

“Preparations had been made to treat her post-traumatic stress disorder,” the nurse droned, nodding at Grace. “But after her latest sleep, she never awakened. And it is against office protocol to perform mind-altering operations without the patient’s consent.”

Ify’s frown deepens.

“Immediately prior to flatlining, she screamed.”

“What?” This from Grace, awoken from her stupor.

“Her first vocal effort since she had fallen unconscious. It was a single scream, sustained for approximately two and a half seconds. Then her vital functions ceased.”

A moment of grief pierces Ify’s heart. “Nightmares. Her nightmares scared her to death.” When she raises her head, new resolve stiffens her spine. “Have a record made of her brain function since her arrival in our ward. When did she first come in again?”

“Last month, Doctor. Before entry, she had been in excellent health.”