Chapter 18

Mal skidded to a halt outside the infirmary, seeing Simon working frantically, River handing him tools as quickly as she could, Cat standing somewhat helplessly by. Something wrapped in a sheet lay on the counter, but his mind skittered away from what it might be.

"Doc, what do you need?"

"Take over from River." Simon was brusque, but for once Mal forgave him.

"I don't know -"

"I'll be in your mind," the young psychic said, holding the autocauteriser ready.

"Can't Cat -"

"Walls too high. No time to get through." She glanced at him, her dark eyes deep unreadable pools. Need you, jia yan.

Nodding, Mal grabbed a pair of latex gloves and pulled them on. Sliding in next to her, he put his hands forward. "Ready," he muttered.

Immediately he felt her in his head, not just talking to him this time, but controlling him, an echo that directed his hands, taking the autocauteriser and dabbing it on a tiny bleeder, and also somehow managing to keep the nausea at bay.

River ran to the cupboards, taking phials and a hypogun, preparing a cocktail.

"Not the -" Simon began.

"I know."

"Use -"

"Yes."

Mal was sure he could have closed his eyes and still have been able to do what he was doing, but didn't give in to the temptation to try. "Doc?"

"Badger's reacting badly to the anaesthetic," the young man said, his voice calm even while his hands were a blur. "And he's bleeding uncontrollably, but I can't figure out why."

"Jumping," Cat said quietly. "It can be a reaction."

"He's had plastic surgery," Mal pointed out, the autocauteriser touching a vein and sealing it, the smell reminding him of Cat when she'd walked out of the burning building.

"It can take a long time to set in." the redhead explained. "Delayed."

"Every stitch I make is just ... I can't keep up." Simon might have been commenting on the weather instead of attempting to save a man's life.

A bead of sweat began making its way down Mal's forehead, and he was sure it wa