Mavis’s consciousness returned slowly. Light, hazy and thick at first, seeped in from the edges, pressing against her eyelids. With effort, she began to open her eyes. The light shifted from a soft blur to a stabbing needle that made her grunt in pain. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed a mouthful of gravel.

  “Goo,” she tried to say, but it came out as a croak. Swallowing against the dryness, she tried again. “Goo?” she whispered, barely audible, but enough.

  “Oh, oh oh oh, you’re awake!” a familiar voice came through her cochlear implant, relief flooding her heart. “I’ve alerted the person on duty, they’ll be here in 8.6 seconds.”

  “Light…” she managed, irritated by the blinding brightness, “not so bright…”

  “Sure, Mav,” came the gentle reply as the lights dimmed and shifted to warmer tones. Much better.

  “Hi there,” a soft, deep voice greeted her as a figure entered the room. “Your AVA told us you were starting to wake up.” Moving closer, the person lifted a cool metal straw from the side table and pressed it gently to her lips. She drank a few mouthfuls before he said, “Okay, I know you want more, but that’s enough for now. I’ll give you more in a moment, I need to check your bedding.”

  Mav closed her eyes against the soft, persistent light as the nurse checked leads and the gelbed, ensuring it was changing pressure spots to stop bedsores. When he finished, he returned the straw to her lips for a few more sips. The water tasted sweet, soothing her dry mouth and throat.

  “The surgeon will be here shortly to talk with you and explain what to expect. I’ll stay with you until then,” he said, settling into a chair beside the bed and reaching out to hold her hand, gently pressing specific acupressure points on her palm and wrist.

  She cracked her eyes open and looked at him. Bald, serene, focused, he breathed long and slow, and where his fingers pressed, she could feel warmth. Her gaze drifted around the room. It wasn’t a typical healing center, this was something else. A large, beautifully appointed space with fresh cut flowers scattered about. A glass wall sat at the far end of the room and looked onto a large deck swathed in greenery. Beyond that, a shimmering body of water danced in the sunlight.

  The door opened again. Mav turned her head, regretting the motion as nausea hit, her vision blurring. The nurse’s fingers shifted slightly on her wrist, and the sickness eased. A petite Asian woman approached the bed, pulling a wheeled stool until she sat just at Mav’s shoulder, waiting silently until the nurse caught her eye and nodded. He stood and smiled down at Mav.

  “You’re in good hands with Dr. Myimosho. She’s the best nanoneurosurgeon in the world.”

  “Oh, Dwight, stop,” the woman chided with a laugh, deep dimples brightening her cheeks. Taking Mav’s opposite hand, she looked over her shoulder as Dwight sauntered away. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s one of the best nurse practitioners and acupuncturists in service today.”

  Dwight chuckled and left the suite while Dr. Myimosho began to speak, “Mavis, do you prefer that, or something else?”

  “Mav, if you don’t mind,” she rasped, voice still weak but stronger. The gravel in her throat had turned to sand.

  “Oh, let me see, I brought something for that. I knew your throat would be dry and sore.” Dr. Myimosho pulled a small capped tube of lozenges from her pocket. “These are from the apothecary. They should help.” She took one and gently helped Mav place it in her mouth. It tasted of honey and herbs, with a hint of ginger and spice. Immediate relief soothed the dryness and rasp.

  “That’s so much better,” Mav said, voice steadier. “Where am I? I remember being hit by a car, then lifted onto an autostretcher… and now I’m here. I’m so confused.” Her voice shook as the weight of reality settled on her. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes. She took a deep, gulping breath.

  “I’m here, Mav,” Dr. Myimosho said, squeezing her hand gently and waiting patiently for her to center herself. Mav’s thoughts raced, ‘how could this happen with an autonomous car? How badly was she hurt? Why was she in such an opulent place?’ She wished her parents were here or she had a best friend to talk too. Her mind spun and her stomach churned. She tried to wiggle her toes like one of her favorite authors had suggested to ground, but felt nothing. ‘Must be the sedative still,’ she thought.

  Focusing on the lack of sensation, she slowly began to settle, after a few moments, Mav caught her breath and, with a small, gulping giggle, looked up at the doctor with gratitude.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “You guys are amazing.” She sighed, laying her head back on the pillow. With effort, she raised her free hand and clumsily wiped at her cheeks.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “We do our best,” the doctor replied, taking a tissue and gently wiping Mav’s face. Gently placing the used tissue in a waste basket next to the gelbed, she continued, “To be honest, we’re actually the best. You have an amazing benefactor. While he wishes to remain anonymous, he has spared no expense to give you the best care possible.”

  She raised a hand to halt Mav’s questions before they could come. “Please let me finish. I cannot, and will not, break my contract by revealing your benefactor. We call them ‘Tzolau.’ I know it sounds melodramatic, but it’s their wish. They said you would understand in time.” She pronounced it “Too-Lau.”

  “Let me explain what happened, where we are, and what we propose to help you get better, okay?” Dr. Myimosho said, watching Mav carefully. Inside, the doctor was saddened. They had done all they could in surgery. Telling this young woman she might never walk again would be difficult, but no less necessary.

  “We started care as soon as you arrived in the emergency response vehicle,” the doctor began. “You were first en route to the Raleigh Neurosurgical Wellness Center, but orders redirected you to the Chapel Hill NanoNeuro Surgical Center. My team and I were informed of your case before you arrived. You had been prepped, so we took you directly into surgery.”

  “I won’t sugarcoat it, Mav. Your injuries were few, but extensive in damage. We were in surgery for over fourteen hours, repairing as much as possible.” The doctor paused, taking a deep breath. Placing her second hand over Mavis’s, she leaned forward with compassion in her eyes.

  “You were hit at a moderate speed, but a series of unfortunate factors stacked against you. The angle at which you struck the curb drove your sacrum laterally, while the twisting of your shoulders torqued your lumbar spine just enough to cause severe damage to your spinal cord, fractures in your right femur, humerus, and clavicle.”

  Tears streamed down Mav’s face as reality sank in. Her heart sank; disbelief shook her head. Dr. Myimosho waited, letting her grip her hand tighter.

  “Mav, I think you already know this, but I want to be clear, your fractures were clean and have been set. They’re healing well with nano-assisted bone regeneration. But the force severed your spinal cord at the L5–S1 junction. The nerves weren’t cut, but sheared by the twisting. Mav, you’re paralyzed from the waist down. I’m so sorry.”

  “No!” she hiccuped. Trembling, tears falling freely, she clung to the doctor’s hand. “No!” she cried again, leaning forward awkwardly, already sensing no response from her lower body. She grabbed the bedding and pulled it back to reveal her feet and lower legs.

  She stared hard at her toes. “They look fine, no cuts, no bruises. See? I can move them… can’t I?” Her mind froze as nothing moved, not a flex, not a twitch. She looked at her legs as if betrayed, fresh tears flowing. “But I’m an athlete, a runner, a racer. How can I live without my legs? Fuck, how?!”

  “How?” she whispered, voice trembling with fear and anger.

  “It was the perfect storm, angle, torque, speed,” the doctor said softly. “Again, I’m sorry. We used every technique available. You’ve actually been in surgery twice, once for repair, and a second time for programmed nanosurgery, letting nanomachines reconnect nerves at a level beyond human capability.”

  “But it was just a bump!” Mavis said, hysteria coloring her voice. “I was running, and then I was…” She stopped, still staring at her feet. ‘Move, just a little, make this kind woman a liar. Move, damn it! Please, fucking MOVE!’ she thought angrily. But the feet stayed still.

  “Mav,” the doctor said, eyes on her HUD, “I understand more than anyone how this feels. I was once paralyzed from the waist down myself, it’s why I became a surgeon. But I need you to find your center. Your blood pressure is spiking, your pulse is racing. I can call Dwight back to give you a TCM sedative if you want, or can you calm down for me?”

  Mav glared, anger flaring. Then it ebbed as she absorbed the doctor’s words. ‘She was once where I am… without today’s medicine, without this support.’ Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Mav gripped the bedding, focusing on the texture to ground herself. Her gaze softened.

  “I’m okay—well, fuck, shit, sorry!” she blurted, embarrassed. The doctor patted the air, signaling ‘don’t worry.’

  “I’m not okay,” Mav admitted, “but I can be calm enough to ask you to finish.” She let go of the bedding and reached for the tissue box. The doctor handed it over, and Mav blew her nose, wiping tears. ‘Jesus, I must look a mess.’ She dropped the tissues the can the doctor held out and set it aside.

  “Again, I’m sorry and like I said, I understand, and I’ll tell you my story if you want. We’ll review your surgery in detail soon, so you can understand what was done and what comes next. For now, all I ask is that you rest and trust. The nanosurgery was a success. Even now, the nanomachines work diligently to repair your spinal column and stitch tissue at a molecular level.”

  “I’d like to upload some info for your AVA to show you about this, if you’d allow it. Also, please call me Olivia, let’s ditch the ‘doctor’ title. We both know who I am, and for me, your comfort is more important. Titles just separate us.”

  Mav’s mind spun. ‘What am I supposed to say? Okay, this is fine. I’ll be a happy little paraplegic and give up racing, dancing, moving.’ She started to spiral. Taking a deep breath, she held it, steadying herself. ‘Okay, Mavis. Yes, this sucks. But this lady’s trying to help you. And when have you ever known a doctor to drop the pretense of their name? Give her a chance.’

  “I’m not sure what to say, honestly,” she began. “Thank you, for your candor, your care, and obviously your skill getting me this far.” She paused, gathering strength. “But all I can think is, is there any way I can heal? Any experimental treatment, radical surgery, Peruvian shaman who can fix this?” Her voice flashed with anger as she pointed at her feet, “and I want to find out who the son of a bitch is that did this to me!”