Page 8 of Dark Survivor (The Qaldreth Warriors #2)

Chapter Five

Three Years Later

Earth

Carne Corp. Augmentations

Headquarters

Ground Floor

“C.C.A. complaints, how may I help?” Tiny tried not to wince when she said that, but it was unavoidable. She was far too miserable to care.

“Yes,” a woman wailed.

Tiny held her headset away from her ear, her tight grip almost cracking the plastic.

“This is the fourth time I’ve called about my leg.

It swivels randomly and pitches me forward or slams me into the closest object.

It’s defective, but every time I call, I’m shunted to the nearest fitment center.

” The woman sucked in a sharp breath. “And they’re useless, no doubt exchanging my ankle with the same shitty part. I want a full refund.”

“I’ll need your details. Please swipe your wrist across the phone, ma’am.” Tiny waited for the information to reach her, read out in a robotic voice that often appeared in her dreams. “Mrs. Holden, you’ve had this model for twenty-two years and have, on numerous occasions, declined an upgrade.”

“Why would I accept another ankle when the old one doesn’t work?”

Tiny plastered on a fake smile through gritted teeth while she fought the frustration welling up inside her. “Because they’ve redesigned the functionality. Technology evolves based on the feedback from valued customers such as yourself. Why shouldn’t you benefit from the process?”

Mrs. Holden huffed. “I’ll give it some thought.”

Typing away, Tiny beamed, sensing the end of the call.

“Excellent. I’ve notified your closest fitment center to expect a possible visit.

We truly appreciate your input, Mrs. Holden.

Please feel free to inform the technician about any improvements you would find helpful.

Is there anything else I can assist you with? ” she added with saccharine sweetness.

“No…thank you. I think I’m good.”

“Excellent. Please take a minute to rate my service. And have a lovely day.” Tiny pressed and held the disconnect button. Doing so bought her a few precious moments of silence.

“I don’t know how you stay so calm,” Elsa said from the right.

Tiny shrugged, understanding what drove people crazy when it came to their health. “Some complaints are valid. Others just want someone to vent to.” She gestured to the screaming person on Elsa’s line.

“…Lost his new eyeball. He bent to buckle a boot, and his eye fell out. It rolled across a street where an autodrive ran over it. That’s his sixth implant in as many months. Tokens don’t grow on trees, you know.”

Tiny squeezed her eyes shut in gratitude. Sure, she couldn’t see anything but blurred shapes, but she still had her own ‘eyeballs.’ She whistled. “Different caller than yesterday’s?”

“It’s the third complaint this week alone.”

Tiny frowned at Elsa’s words. Not once did she get those kinds of clients. Hers were always for limbs far from the face. It was sweet of switchboard to screen the calls, but she didn’t need them to.

Her line chimed. She tapped the answer button and forced a cheerful, “C.C.A. complaints, how may I assist?”

“Hi,” a man whispered. “I didn’t know whether to call you or emergency services.”

She stiffened and wheeled her chair closer. “Sir, are you injured?”

“My…new appendage won’t…um…soften.”

She cupped the headset, pressing it to her ears in the hopes she’d understand him better. “For how long have you been suffering?”

“Four days. At first, my girlfriend loved it being so… ready for her, but now… It started to ache about a day ago.”

Tiny jerked back. “Please swipe your wrist.” She listened while the system read out his details.

The reality flushed her cheeks until she gave off so much heat, her eyes watered.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard while she set things into action.

“Mr. Adams, please head to the nearest fitment center. I’ve notified them of your situation and requested emergency services to be on standby. ”

“Thank you,” he said with a long exhale. “I love my new… Well, um, I just need help calming it.”

“I understand and suggest you do not delay.” When he ended the call, she relaxed and let out a chuckle.

Moments like this were what made her days—a chance to help someone.

“That poor man.” She noted the limb on their shared notepad.

Anything unusual—no names—was recorded for a giggle at Friday’s afternoon socials.

Elsa’s perfume drew closer. “Appendage?” She laughed. “That’s one name for it. I can’t believe you’re a doctor and you’re doing this horrible job.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll need your details…”

Tiny zoned the call operators out and flicked to her search tab.

Elsa was right. She needed something else that didn’t drain her soul.

The accessibility settings helped her navigate to a career site.

Her attempts to complete her residency had been met with disaster.

Every hospital she’d worked at had eventually let her go, citing their facilities weren’t geared toward her disability, or they couldn’t afford malpractice lawsuits.

She’d figured there had to be colonies desperate for a doctor, even a blind one.

“Medical positions…in space,” she whispered into her mic.

“Zero available,” the search engine droned. “Notification is activated for Tinika Bryant.”

She slumped. “Anything else I can do with my hands?”

She wiggled her fingers, the brush of air across her implants flashing details across her mind, such as the temperature and the carbon dioxide levels, even though her nose twitched from the stench of body sweat and someone’s reheated fish.

The sensors in her hands had to be petitioned with permission granted only to emergency or blind doctors.

Lucky her. It also cost her parents a fortune.

If the government had known she’d never hold down a medical position, she doubted they’d have allowed the procedure.

“A masseuse position on Lunar Base,” came the engine’s unexpected response.

“Tiny, your father’s here to fetch you,” the new floor manager called.

She whipped her head up and forced a smile while hitting random buttons to exit the screen. “Thanks,” she squeaked while praying he hadn’t seen what she’d been doing.

She gathered her stuff, sliding items into her bag by rote.

Without routine, she’d forget things, so in went her jacket, lunch tin, and empty travel mug, and in that order.

She powered off her computer, squeezed Elsa’s upper arm, and made her escape.

Thirty-two steps took her to the front of the open-plan, her hearing pricked up for certain voices to guide her to reception.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dad said, his rough hand on her wrist when he linked her arm through his. “How was your day?”

“Good,” she said, letting him escort her onto the walkway. A warm breeze, thick with fumes and the smell of hot concrete, flicked her hair back. “You don’t need to fetch me, Dad. I can get home by myself.”

He harumphed. “Nothing’s going to happen to my pumpkin.”

She shivered, distrusting his and Mom’s new affection toward her.

Having never been granted their attention in this abundance, she didn’t know what to make of it.

At least, she hadn’t heard how amazing her brother was, not after the whole drug-dealing fiasco.

After the hospital discharged her, Officer Parsons had gone from hero to zero after that day.

She swallowed past the pain cinching her chest. He’d checked up once then gone silent.

Hell, she didn’t even know his first name. That said it all.

Bitterness layered her heart. Still. Because of her asshole brother, she had no prospects in career or love.

“Your mom’s making your favorite,” Dad said, lifting Tiny onto the bus as if she were a child.

“Again?” She frowned at having lasagna every two days. “I do like other things like pizza and takeout.”

“She’s showing you love. Appreciate it while you can.”

Tiny sank onto the seat her father guided her to.

Appreciate their guilt? Accept this new family dynamic when her instincts screamed to run?

She wanted to yell at them to let her have some freedom.

After all, she’d enjoyed her independence during her studies.

Living with her parents wasn’t the future she’d envisioned.

And having a blind daughter not practicing medicine wasn’t the brag they’d dreamed of either.

Without a word, she let the autobus’s hum lull her into a daze.

The air conditioner cooled the sweat dewing on her skin.

How far away was far enough? Another city?

A space station or ship? Her heart skipped a beat.

Yes . If only she could find work somewhere else…

Maybe then her parents would let her live a life without their interference.

They disembarked, rode the elevator to the fifteenth floor, then headed along the long passage to their apartment.

As she did this, she counted the steps while wishing she didn’t automatically do that.

With her fingertips on the paneling, her touch guided her past the neighbors.

Heat slapped her face when she strolled into their home, Mom having not lowered the air conditioner to accommodate for the oven.

Sweet vanilla hung in the air like an aftertaste, which meant chocolate chip cookies and ice cream for dessert.

“Hopping into the sol-bath, Mom,” she called and veered into her room.

She closed the door and sank against it. Minutes later, she stood on the plate and let the beam warm her body as it cleaned her. Her arm beeped. She tapped her palm, pressed it to her ear, and listened to the robotic voice vibrating along the bones in her hands.

“Application accepted. Position awarded to Tinika Bryant.”

She froze. What position? “Details please,” she asked, wiping shampoo off her temple.

“Masseuse at Celestial. Expected start is 8 AM in two days.”