Page 57 of Alien Barbarian's Little Human

“Take off your sling, please.”

Vel give me a querying glance. I shrug.

“I don’t know if he can help, but he’s been full of surprises so far. Humor him.”

I assist Vel in taking off his sling, and support his bad arm as it comes free. Magog firmly but carefully takes hold of Vel’s elbow, squinting his right eye closed.

“You have a pinched nerve near your ulna.”

“Oh, is that why I can’t--”

Vel screams amid a sharp, crackling pop as Magog twists his arm. I look on in horror as Vel falls to his knees, holding the injured limb.

“What did you do?” I cry, utterly gobsmacked at what I just witnessed.

“I adjusted the joint into its proper alignment. With his metabolism, he should have sensation back within the hour.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Vel stands up and waves me off.

“More like within the minute, not the hour. I already feel better.”

He flexes his fist open and closed a few times.

“Here, don’t overdo it, let’s put your sling back on.”

“No, I think I’m fine now,” Vel says. He looks over at Magog with gratitude in his yellow eyes. “Thanks, brother.”

“There is no need to thank me.” Magog turns his gaze on me. “There are many others with injuries here. May I treat them as well?”

“Um, sure?”

It’s not like I could stop him if I wanted to, but I get the feeling if I’d said no Magog would not have argued the point. He moves deeper into the clinic, approaching the bedside of a human who took shrapnel in the gut.

“I see this man has suffered a recent injury, and subsequent surgery.”

“If you can call it surgery. I’m not a trained surgeon, but I did the best I could to remove the metal fragments from his gut.”

“You missed several.”

He doesn’t say it like an indictment. Just a statement of fact.

“I’m not surprised. I was afraid to dig around too deep. He hasn’t woken up since I performed the surgery.”

“When did this occur?”

I sigh and shake my head.

“Three days ago, I think. It’s hard to tell how much time passes when there’s no chronometers and ash makes day almost as dark as night.”

Magog nods, and goes to what laughably passes as my surgery equipment. He begins selecting implements, then puts them on a metal tray and places it over a steam grating in the back of the clinic.

“The heat will sterilize the equipment. In the meantime, please prepare two pints of human lactated ringers.”

“Um, what you see is what you get, big guy.”

He takes it all in stride.

“Then we will need a blood donor. The operation will involve significant bleeding.”

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