DROP TWENTY-THREE
“And look to the left. And look to the right. Excellent,” the Mechdoc said with his practised voice, shining a flashlight in her eyes.
Hector was surprised to find out that he was really anxious for this. His room had been turned into an operating hall, plastic hanging from the ceiling, equipment beeping, surfaces sterilised with a spray of antibacterial nanobots. It had all been carried inside by the trusty robotic mule. “How is she, Doc?”
“Well, we fixed the arm with the replacement part, so that is good as new. The eye, I managed to salvage and so, the cost went down.” He pointed at the new eye, still in its plastic, next to the surgery tools. He took off his bloodied gloves.
“Nice!”
“Ah, don’t get too excited. It has all the functions, but it won’t survive a seco
