She says her name is Kal Revanl,
and you don't see why she would lie. Her problem isn't as serious as some
of the others, but you still feel queasy.
She's missing one arm from the elbow down, the stump wrapped in human bandages-the Yeerks figured you could replace them. She limps from her partially, improperly healed leg. You hand her crutches and help her to Ward Seven.
Ward Seven consists of, in general, your most serious cases. There are 47 Hork-Bajir and if your medical technology wasn't so advanced, there would be twice as many. The Yeerks have to hand it to you, without you, they couldn't stand a chance.
That's the part of the job you don't like.
Arun Tadarak hears you coming and yells a greeting in Galard. He was sent here a month ago and is slated to leave next week. You reply in some of your limited Hork-Bajir vocabulary and hand him some water. He takes the glass and knows exactly where it should go, despite the bandages over his eyes. Another week and he'll be pronounced "cured enough." He'll be handed back to the Yeerks, and then he can have his eyes clawed out again.
That's what Ward Seven is for, victims of the "Andalite bandits." The management has an agreement with the Yeerks-since the Desbadeen are neutral, and you're more advanced in the field of medicine, you take care of the Hork-Bajir that make it to here without dying.
But you are definitely not neutral. As you help Kal onto the empty bed, your heart goes out to those Hork-Bajir. There are 48 now, and many more in the past and future. They are sent here, to arms that can only protect them so long.
She's missing one arm from the elbow down, the stump wrapped in human bandages-the Yeerks figured you could replace them. She limps from her partially, improperly healed leg. You hand her crutches and help her to Ward Seven.
Ward Seven consists of, in general, your most serious cases. There are 47 Hork-Bajir and if your medical technology wasn't so advanced, there would be twice as many. The Yeerks have to hand it to you, without you, they couldn't stand a chance.
That's the part of the job you don't like.
Arun Tadarak hears you coming and yells a greeting in Galard. He was sent here a month ago and is slated to leave next week. You reply in some of your limited Hork-Bajir vocabulary and hand him some water. He takes the glass and knows exactly where it should go, despite the bandages over his eyes. Another week and he'll be pronounced "cured enough." He'll be handed back to the Yeerks, and then he can have his eyes clawed out again.
That's what Ward Seven is for, victims of the "Andalite bandits." The management has an agreement with the Yeerks-since the Desbadeen are neutral, and you're more advanced in the field of medicine, you take care of the Hork-Bajir that make it to here without dying.
But you are definitely not neutral. As you help Kal onto the empty bed, your heart goes out to those Hork-Bajir. There are 48 now, and many more in the past and future. They are sent here, to arms that can only protect them so long.