CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Recollection
PART THREE…Funeral…A simple bundle of white lilies fell onto the coffin and those watching might have thought that the limp arm that dropped them would fall in after them. Words of consolation fell upon deaf ears and were answered by a hollow, forced smile.
Tessla's heart stung as she waited for those present to leave, lest they see her comfort her father and discover who she was. Her father had touched many lives in this new city, and his many friends took their time in parting with him. She had few friends, except those who befriended her to gain something. But then, Vash's friends usually had something to gain from him, too, so perhaps friendships are overrated.
When finally daughter could hug father, Tessla held him tight. This was like a reverse of when she was small – he had seemed so big and strong then. Now, he felt so thin and frail, yielding and frightened. "Love you, daddy," she whispered.
"Love you, baby bear," he responded, sighing.
"Where to, daddy?" she asked softly, knowing her father well enough that he couldn't stand to stay in the same city as a loved one's grave.
"Dunno sweetie. Nippon again? Maybe the countryside this time?" With his daughter's slender arm about his drooping shoulders, Vash stepped away from the freshly filled grave. "Think you can stay in the guest bed tonight? I'll make us dinner and sleep on the couch-"
"And I'll make the arrangements first thing tomorrow morning," she added. "You can take whatever you want, and I'll have the rest donated."
Vash smirked, then sunk away in thought again.
"I'M still with you, daddy."
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"Landry, for God's sake, get that helmet off of her," Dr. Hatake muttered to an assistant before going to work cutting away bloody, tattered clothing.
Officer Landry figured that he'd heard Hatake wrong – he'd surely meant 'him.' But after releasing the airlock at the neck of the helmet and easing it off, he watched long, blonde hair spill out and a woman's whimpering moan filled the room.
"Agent Peace is a woman, get over it," Hatake growled, tossing the remains of her pants over his shoulder. "Vanessa, I'm giving you an anesthetic." He pressed a patch of chemicals onto her neck. "We'll explain things once you've awakened."
The only response was the continued string of strained noises. Vanessa's eyes were tightly shut and her teeth ground aloud. Sweat drenched her hair and skin, glistening on glassy skin that was dangerously pale.
The assistants, after having cleared away the fabric layers, were marveling quietly that her body seemed to have pushed the metal shrapnel bits to the surface of her torn skin. Penn and Landry merely had to look for them and lift them away, making quick work of it.
Hatake watched the monitors, eyes skimming numbers and graphs until he felt assured that her weapon wouldn't wake once he began to work. He'd been debriefed on the carnage caused by that day's weapon unleashing. That sort of massive death and destruction could tear this building to bits if Vanessa's body wished to 'protect' itself from his surgical exploits.
Now, her body was still, her breathing shallow.
After the shrapnel was cleared away, Hatake gestured to the metal canisters. "Landry, prep the left for reattachment. Penn, give her locals."
On the count of three, Hatake pulled away the seals from the ragged stump of her left leg, detached thirteen inches above the knee. Penn reached in and pinched off the main artery and main vein of this leg as soon as the seal let the blood spray free. These were tied off temporarily, as were the remaining blood vessels they could identify. A sensor light allowed them to see the nerves and mark them with tiny flags. Methodically, the cold, severed leg was treated in similar fashion, with matching tiny flags for each nerve. After hours of microsurgery, Dr. Hatake reconnected the blood vessels and nerves as best he could and sutured the skin, finally splinting the limb for muscle and bone to repair itself. With nary a pause between, they moved on to the right leg, severed seven inches above the knee, and repeated the procedure late into the night.
Hatake considered the surgery his greatest work, taking into account the limited staff and materials. Tight security caused a somewhat lower level of medical possibilities, yet he had, he believed, successfully joined each vessel possible. This was no small feat, considering that the severed wounds were large and extremely messy.
Quite a lot of blood was lost, and the intensity of the explosion burned away much of the skin on the thighs. Grafting was out of the question, since remaining skin was damaged by shrapnel and covered with often deep scarring already. For transfusion, human blood was out of the question.
Growing new skin or blood was also not an option. Sampling or growing tissue from her body had been considered illegal ever since her weapon-recreation surgery had completed, long ago.
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Hatake stepped into the narrow hallway after washing the blood and sealing from his hands. Eyes bloodshot and body sore from hours of work, he still had to face his superiors. "Operation was a success."
General Schloff nodded. He coughed and cleared his throat. "Full recovery within…?"
"Recovery is relative," Hatake responded uncomfortably. "Combat will be possible in a day or two, if a personal transport is prepared. However, it would be considerably less flashy. Lost a great deal of blood. Physical recovery will be slow, as one would expect, requiring rest and rehab. And psychologically-"
"Thank you, Dr. Hatake," the Colonel interrupted. "Your orders are to remain within this block until further notice. Dismissed."
Looking down at his blood-soaked medical apron, Hatake thought briefly of the gruesome medicine of centuries past. Then he slunk off to sleep, wishing he could go home to his wife instead.
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Because Tessla didn't like to use the holo-wall in her apartment, she and Vash were unaware of the destruction unfolding outside.
For the past several hours, reports were broadcast refuting claims that Agent Peace had been injured or killed. Official reports, however, did little to convince militant groups around the globe, and many countries found themselves amidst chaos. It'd been so long since such groups felt confident enough to act out their violent, politically charged desires.
The area in which Vash and Tessla lived – which they planned to leave that night – was rich with political unrest. Past law enforcement being as it was, they never would have thought it possible. But with a single automatic message to her com, Tessla's heart sunk. She hesitated to tell her father, finally deciding to leave her bedroom to break the news to him.
"Daddy," she stated soberly. "We won't be leaving today. The airport's been bombed…"