Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [38]
“In what way?”
“That assassination attempt would’ve killed anyone else. But your nanites kept you alive long enough for us to perform a heart transplant. Fascinating technology, though I can’t imagine implanting them before they’d gone through turns of testing.”
“I used an alternate medical program.” Remembering Doc and Evie gives me a painful twinge, deeper than the ache in my chest.
“You’ll have a scar,” he tells me, “but it should be thin and minimal.”
“Thank you for saving my life.”
“That’s my job.” From his expression, he’s not thrilled about having me in his hospital, so things must still be messy out there.
“Is it bad outside?”
“Constant marine presence keeps the violent protestors away,” he answers, “but your sojourn here has not been enjoyable for the staff.”
“I imagine not.”
“I’ll send in your first visitor.” The doctor heads out, and I hear the murmur of voices in the hallway, but I can’t tell the gender of the other.
Let it be March.
It isn’t. Nola Hale steps through my door. Then I remember he’s off looking for his nephew on a slow ship to Nicuan, no telling how long that will take. I curl my hands into fists and repeat in my head how much I don’t mind. After all, I’m a grown woman, not a helpless child, and I’ve never leaned. I don’t need someone at my bedside, but I’m glad to see the barrister nonetheless.
“I’m glad you plan to live,” she says. “I’d be annoyed at winning for you, only to have the story end like that.”
I have to laugh. “Yeah, my dying would really wreck things for you. It’s not a good anecdote for prospective clients.”
She grins at me. “Exactly.”
“I’m glad you came by. I’d like to hire you.”
Nola raises a brow. “For what? I don’t do civil suits.”
Frag. If the bereaved family members sue me, I won’t fight. I’ll settle with them, even if it takes all my mother’s money. I’ve been poor before; I know the drill. After Simon—my ex-husband—cleared out my savings, I lived on clan kindness.
“I met a girl inside.” I explain the situation. “I think her case might be almost as unwinnable as mine, but I want you to try for her. I’ll foot the bill . . . If you have a handheld on you, I’ll make the transfer now, before I lose everything.”
She considers for a moment in silence. “Fine, I’ll do it. The high-profile stuff is good for keeping my name on the nightly bounce.”
“You get more clients that way, I guess?”
“Absolutely.” She hands me her unit, and I input the codes.
“How much?”
The price she names makes me a little woozy—or maybe that’s the pain meds—but I know from personal experience, she’s worth it. So I request the transfer, while still marveling at all the zeroes.
“At any rate, I just came by to make sure you’re going to live. Pandora’s case is a bonus prize. I’ll enjoy convincing the jury the son of a bitch deserved to die.”
“From what she said, he did. But I expect you’ll dig into the particulars before you go talk to her.” I hand the device back.
This is the best I can do for Pandora. I hope Nola gets her a happy ending. For me, this is more of a respite between disasters. From this point on, I must watch for angry people with guns, as they won’t be content with the verdict. They won’t be satisfied until I stop breathing, if the nanites will even let me.
Nola glances up from her handheld. “I’ve already put my team on it. I have to get going, as I have work to do. Good luck, Jax.” Her manner isn’t as formal, now that we’re no longer client and barrister. In other circumstances we might’ve been friends. But now she’s just a woman in an expensive suit, waving as she goes.
Hospitals are boring. It’s even more so when your visitors are screened within an inch of their lives. Lots of people come to the waiting area, but few are permitted through the doors, mostly because the searches and scans reveal weapons on their persons. I catch snippets