Year of the Child by R L Dean

Author:R L Dean [Dean, R L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Space-Opera
ISBN: 9781792316586
Publisher: R.L. Dean
Published: 2019-09-03T22:00:00+00:00

19 - JJ

Jamala Jenkins had never run from anything in her life. When her father left her mother who was suffering from dementia, she stayed. When her husband, Christopher, was killed in Beirut, she didn't crumble and hide in her room from the responsibility of raising two daughters by herself. From the kindergarten playground of inner city Abuja to the Middle East's theater of war, Jamala stood her ground.

And there was no scenario— not even in Hell itself— in which she would run from physical therapy. Difficult though it was.

The outpatient center was three blocks from her apartment. She walked it, every time. And though she was Earth born, with the muscle and bone to match, the brace on her leg felt like an anchor even in the Martian gravity. So, she simply took it off and carried it in one hand, like a club. Without it on she had to be careful, bending her knee too far sent fire up her thigh and hip and caused muscle spasms. The first time she walked to the outpatient center without the brace she ended up face first on the sidewalk, cursing.

By the second block her knee would be stiff, making her leg harder to control. This was progress. Three weeks ago she hadn't been able to make it a half-block without stopping and resting on a bench. She pushed herself on, and made it three quarters of the second block before stopping, sweating profusely and breathing heavy. She sat back on the bench, stretching her leg out in front of her. Her appointment was at 1900 and there wasn't a lot of people out on the streets this time of day, the frenetic rush home from work was over, leaving behind only a few walking the sidewalks or standing at food kiosks. The bars were two streets over, and those that had nothing to go home to would be there.

The burrow's sky lights had begun to dim, emulating a diurnal cycle that Jamal's psyche still sensed as artificial. Most soldiers in C044 claimed to have gotten used to it, and in her opinion if it no longer bothered them then they had been here too long. Mars had long been thought of as UNSEC's dumping ground, though, there was nothing in any of her company's service jackets that would warrant such exile. And certainly not her own.

While her mind wouldn't let her relish the 'late evening' feel, she could enjoy the coolness of that simulated evening. And so she sat there with her head back and her eyes closed, letting the sweat dry.

Her leg had been useless for almost two weeks after Cydonia. It takes time to regrow nerves, bone, and cartilage. It had taken two surgeries to get everything in there where it needed to be, then a week lying in a hospital bed and her leg tingling like it was asleep while it began to heal. Now it was left to physical therapy and time. The therapist would scan her knee and make micro-adjustments to the new nerves, then work her as hard as any drill sergeant.

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