A woman with a pinched face and a black business suit walked up and for a moment Ana thought that she was a relative of someone, but then she saw the light streaming in through the high grimy windows and realized it was morning. This was a hospital administrator or some other official.
"Dr. Fidelio, could you come with me please?"
"I'm off shift and..."
"It won't take long." the woman said.
She led Ana through into a room where a committee was sitting. There was not much to distinguish them all. They all looked tired, like they hadn't had their morning coffee. Adderson was there, but not at the conference table. He was sitting in the back of the room reading a newspaper.
The woman took her seat at the head of the table. "Doctor Fidelio," she said. "I work for the hospital's insurance company. It's my understanding that at three fifteen this morning you performed an orthopedic procedure while on an ER rotation. Is that true?"
Ana looked blankly at them, then said, "I used an orthopedic kit, rod and pin insertion techniques on a patient, but it wasn't surgical. She had bark instead of skin."
"It wasn't surgical. It was elective, Doctor Fidelio, and the insurance company is not going to cover it."
"She's an unaccompanied minor, she's on state care." Ana said uncertainly. "And it wasn't elective. Her leg was shattered."
"Bones broken?" said the woman archly.
"She didn't have any bones." Dr. Adderson said without looking up from his newspaper. Ana turned and glared across at him but he didn't seem to notice.
"What Doctor Adderson means is that she had exposed intercellular structure. That's the definition of a wound." Ana said, turning back to the committee.
"You can't classify someone as wounded just because they have no skin." said the woman, nudging the doctor next to her, who started slightly and said, "Doctor Fidelio...I know it's your first day, but we have a certain way of handling things here at Sacred Mercy..."
"I quite agree." Ana said. "I saw the prospectus when I was applying. 'The highest quality of patient care - for every patient.' That is what you were going to say, right?" She cocked her hip to one side aggressively. The effect was somewhat ruined by her formless scrubs.
"Uh...yes..." said the doctor reluctantly.
"Well, you're right to rebuke me, then. I should have requested an immediate emergency consult with a plant pathologist from the University. It was irresponsible of me to assume that a plant-girl mutant with a broken leg could be kept from infection simply by keeping the broken bark clean until it could mend. It would cost the hospital a fortune, but if it can afford to have morbiditiy and mortality committees when a patient doesn't even die, it can certainly afford to call in a tree surgeon to give his best advice on mutants who have affinities for our cousins in the plant kingdom. Right?" She folded her arms. Adderson folded his newspaper, suddenly interested in what was happening.
"Er." said the doctor.
The woman was livid. "Doctor Fidelio, threats of this kind will not be tolerated. You cannot make that kind of decision on your own. I'm requiring you to have all in situ treatment decisions approved by a senior member of staff."
"Okay," Adderson said. "I approve them."
The air had already gotten cold but Adderson's remark seemed to suck it right out of the room. "At the time of the treatment, Doctor Adderson!" the insurance woman said. "She will have to get approval at the time of the treatment."
"Whatever." Adderson said, and opened his newspaper back up.
"This meeting is adjourned. For now." snapped the woman.
"Good, I need some sleep." Ana muttered.
Adderson ignored her as she went. Ana figured that meant he liked her more than before the meeting.
Ana lived in Hell's Kitchen, where the people were poor but they consoled themselves by reflecting that they weren't mutants and didn't have to live in the Kellytown ghetto. She had been asleep for five hours and the sun was just going down when her phone rang.
She instinctively said, "I'm not on until four." when she picked up the phone.
It was Adderson's voice. "Get down here." he said.
"No." she said groggily. "Four."
"No." Adderson said. "Now. Turn on your TV."
She did. Magneto was on every channel. He had a red helmet, the transmission was wreathed in eerie static, he was broadcasting right onto television frequencies, no station needed, no cameras, no lights. Yet he had shadows on his face, a curl of grey hair barely visible. She didn't even hear what he was saying and she wasn't awake enough to care. Adderson was talking into her ear: "Magneto on TV equals riots in Mutant Town. The place is getting crazy and it's only going to get worse. Get down here."
She was in the shower by the time he hung up the phone.
Day 2