Page 14 of Monsters and Mocha

“Normally such a small discrepancy would not be worthy of notice, especially given the nature of our sudden influx of patients. But the name of the missing patient happened to catch my attention.”

She swallowed nervously. Dr. Fransten stared at her, his eyes seeming to bore into her very soul.

“Shelton, what happened to Captain Monstrego?”

CHAPTER NINE

DARBY

She squirmed under his gaze. “I’m sure there was just an error in reporting somewhere. Let me go back over the reports and⁠—”

“I’ve already done that. You were the one who filled out the captain’s report of care.” He picked up another paper from one of the neat stacks on the corner of his desk. “I have it here. Though everything else is detailed, I can’t help but notice that the time of death is not marked. It’s not like you to leave out such an important piece of information.”

“I–I was tired. It was a long day.”

The doctor regarded her suspiciously. “And then there is the matter of the exchange I overheard just now between you and Private Wyss. You seemed to be quite confident in the fact that Captain Monstrego is not here in this hospital. If his body was not picked up by the undertaker and he’s not here, where is he?”

Darby’s palms were clammy, and she could feel a bead of sweat dripping down her back. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to frantically reach for a believable explanation.

Dr. Fransten placed his palms on his desk and stood up, leaning over her. Unlike her nerves, his voice was quiet and smooth. “What have you done, Shelton?”

She cracked. “I had to do something! You wouldn’t even try to help him. He sacrificed himself for his men and you just wrote him off as not worth saving.”

The doctor sank back into his chair, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “It was a question of resources, not of worth. He experienced two traumatic amputations, and likely profound damage to his internal organs. His heart, at the very least, and most likely more. Even if he somehow miraculously survived, the lasting effects of injuries at that level would severely affect his quality of life.”

“You don’t know that. And anyway, isn’t it in our oath to save and protect all life?” Darby crossed her arms stubbornly, her earlier anxiety forgotten for the moment. “We’re doctors; it’s what we do.”

“And as doctors, sometimes we need to make hard decisions.” Fransten opened his eyes and sighed. “Shelton, you are without a doubt the most brilliant student I have met in my lifetime, but no amount of talent can bring a man back from the dead. Now, where is Captain Monstrego’s body?”

“I don’t have it.”

“Don’t play games with me. You told Private Wyss he’s not here, which means you know where it is.”

“I don’t have it,” she repeated evenly, “because he’s not dead.”

Fransten froze. “What do you mean? How?”

“Medicine, and a little bit of magic. Okay, a lot of magic.” Darby’s shoulders fell as she sank back into the chair, relief and exhaustion overwhelming her now that her secret was revealed.

“But…his injuries.” The doctor shook his head in disbelief. “I know your limits, Shelton. You don’t have enough magic to repair that kind of damage. Even if he is alive now, it won’t be sustainable. His wounds will become infected, or his heart will give out.”

“I can take care of an infection,” Darby answered confidently. “And his heart won’t give out.”

“And you know this how?” He leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests and looking at her skeptically.

“Because I built him a new one.”

“You did what?”

“Well, not completely,” she amended. “The right atrium and ventricle were undamaged. It was just a matter of fitting them with the left side and getting both materials to work together. He won’t be able to make a career as a sprinter, but as long as he stays within a reasonable rate of cardio exertion, he should be fine.”

Dr. Fransten leaned forward, his eyes bright with interest. “How?”

Her anxiety made a sudden reappearance. Henry was the only other person who knew about her fascination with gears and metalwork, as those in the more “advanced” sciences of medicine and magic tended to look down on the industrial fields. She twisted her fingers together. “I’ve been…dabbling in ways to use metal and clockwork in the medical field. The human body is essentially just a complex machine; it stands to reason there might be some ways to overlap. A clock keeps even time just like a heart needs a steady beat.”

“So you built Captain Monstrego a clockwork heart?” Darby couldn’t tell from his expression whether Dr. Fransten was impressed or horrified.

“And rebuilt the rest of him, too.” She smiled sheepishly, trying to mask her nerves. “He might never be a sprinter, but he could make a killing as a boxer now.”