Unfinished Business

Chapter Ten

“Olfactory . . . Optic . . . Oculomotor . . . Troch-Trochlear . . . Trigeminal, Abducent, Facial . . . Vestibulocochlear . . . Glossopharyngeal . . . um, Vagus . . . Accessory . . . um . . . and . . . um . . .” Heather McKlintock recited from memory, as she dogged Simon’s steps.

“Hippos,” supplied Simon, with a grin.

“Hippos?” Heather asked, an eyebrow raised skeptically.

“Hippos?” Kaylee asked, confused.

“ ‘Hippos’,” Simon repeated. “ ‘Oliver the Optimistic Octopus Trots Triumphantly About Facing Audiences Glossily Vaguely Spinning Hippos’. Hippos is Hypo—”

“Hypoglossal!” the fourteen year old said, smacking her forehead. “I knew that!” She then looked troubled. “But, ‘hippos’?”

“It’s an ancient mnemonic device,” explained Simon. “It helps remember the names of the cranial nerves.”

Heather paused for a moment, and Simon could feel her eyes boring into the back of his head. “You sure you went to a real medical school?” she asked skeptically.

Simon had to laugh at that, and Kaylee did as well. “I wonder, sometimes,” he said with a sigh. “I think I’ve learned more about space medicine in the last three days than in the two semesters I had.”

He had been happy to see Heather McKlintock show up half-way through his shift to begin hers – despite her youth, she was a ship’s medic, if you wanted to stretch the point, and every ship had to contribute. Simon enjoyed catching up with her on her studies, and in between stitching up fallen drunks and treating the odd bit of drug-induced excesses, he had peppered her relentlessly with questions to ascertain just how much of the material he had sent her had stuck.

He was pleasantly surprised to see just how advanced she had become in such a short time, and how serious she took her studies. He was realizing, slowly, that her zeal was not the altruistic compassion and desire to serve a greater humanity that motivated her, but an almost desperate enthusiasm to prove herself competent in her trade.

Perhaps