Epsilon Eridani System, Office of Naval Intelligence Medical Facility, in orbit around planet Reach
"Ma'am, Subject Seven is suffering cardiac arrest!"
"Subject Thirty Three is reacting poorly to the calcium surface coating. Am attempting to reverse affects…"
"Doctor, Number Fifty Three is overdosing on the optical enhancement solution."
"Eighty Two failed to come out of the coma. I called it at 0307 hours."
"Doctor, are you listening?"
"Of course Déja. I'm working on Fhajad now. I'll help the others when I'm done."
"I project that four of the children will die in that time period, and Subject Fhajad will still suffer irreversible damage to his nervous system."
"I know that Déja, but he will live. As for the others, I'm concentrating on those most likely to survive."
"With the inclusion of number Eighty Two, the list of fatalities has risen to sixteen."
"Thank you Déja, please check on Sam, Kelly, and John."
"All three of those subjects are within accepted parameters."
"Good. Are any of the subjects finished?"
"Negative. Number One Seventeen is furthest along, requiring only minor augmentations and the follow up injections."
"Doctor, Number Seven didn't make it."
"Thank you. Déja, are any living subjects in critical condition?"
"Negative, most are in stable condition between augmentations."
With that, the good doctor let out a great sigh and collapsed in a nearby chair. She had been on her feet for seventeen hours and awake for fifty. Sixteen dead this far in was better than she had predicted, but still not good enough. It started to look like some were going to make it after all. John was almost out of the woods, and that's good. No. She checked that. "For the thousandth time, I can't get attached," she thought aloud. Then Halsey got up and leaned on the row of monitors in front of the window. Below, seventy-five bubbles contained seventy-five children in various stages of augmentation. Sixteen of those bubbles had become tombs, and a good number more would join them. But the rest would contain the hopes of the future. After all, that's why we're doing this, she thought, to preserve the future. To sacrifice a few to save many. "Well, no amount of philosophizing is going to save these kids," she stated to no one in particular. "Déja, which subject is in the worst condition?"
"Number Thirty Three, Doctor."
"Thank you Déja." And with that, the doctor headed to operating station thirty-three to aid the doctors there. She continued this pattern for another twenty-two hours before each candidate was either safe or dead. Then, and only then, she slept.