The Arm and Flanagan Page 11
The young man grinned at the doctor. “I hardly slept last night. I kept thinking about my appointment.”
The doctor smiled in response. “You have the right attitude, Corporal. That will make your adjustment even quicker.”
“The new one will be even better than the old one, right? That’s what you said.”
The doctor nodded. “It’s an amazing device. State of the art. There was a budget cut and we lost our supply of the new prosthetics. Fortunately, a refurbished one came in. That’s the one we prepared for you.”
The young man shrugged. He raised the bandaged stump of his left arm. “My old one was injured when I was a kid. It never worked right, and it always gave me a lot pain. It was almost a relief when they had to amputate it after that firefight. I don’t get it, though. How can I be getting a refurbished arm?”
“It was tragic,” the doctor said. “The patient only had it for a few days, and then he died in a traffic accident of some sort. Because the program is considered experimental, the prosthetic limb remains the property of the DoD. You remember that form you signed when you entered the program?”
“Right.”
“Fortunately, the arm was only slightly damaged in the accident. It was fully repaired and tested, and then we adjusted it for you.”
A nurse entered the room carrying a long, narrow cardboard box.
“And here it is!” the doctor said. “Let’s get your shirt off. Nurse.”
The nurse stepped forward to help the soldier. He smiled at her and tried to hold her glance as she unbuttoned his shirt. She didn’t respond, but the young man comforted himself with the thought that the world was full of pretty young women.
The nurse left the examining room. The doctor removed the dressing covering the stump that was all that remained of the young soldier’s left arm. It had been amputated just below the shoulder. The young man stared at the stump for a moment and then said, “It’s kind of weird to think that I’ll never see that again. It’s going to look like a regular arm again, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“Great!” the soldier said. He held the stump out toward the doctor. “Let’s go.”
The doctor lifted the arm from the box and moved it toward the stump. The arm’s shiny prongs opened like so many teeth ready to bite into the stump. The soldier watched with fascination and a smile on his face. “Man, this is even cooler than a movie,” he said.
The doctor laughed and attached the arm. As the prongs sliced into the stump and the arm began to integrate itself with the soldier’s body, the doctor talked about the arm’s built–in intelligence and capabilities.
“Sounds great,” the soldier said.
The arm went through its self–testing process. The soldier watched the arm bending at the elbow and then straightening again and the hand clenching into a fist and then straightening again. Tears filled the young man’s eyes.
“Oh, God, it’s real,” he whispered. “I didn’t really believe it till now. I’ve got an arm again. It really is better than what I had before.”
He touched the arm with his right hand — tentatively at first, almost fearfully, but then more firmly and confidently. “Oh, man, it’s wonderful! I love it!”
Now the tears were rolling down his cheeks. He tried to speak and couldn’t at first. At last he said, “Thanks, Doc. This is so great. I’ve been depressed about my arm all my life, and now … Now at last I’m happy.”
And at last the arm was happy, too.
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About the Author
David Dvorkin was born in 1943 in England. His family moved to South Africa after World Two and then to the United States when David was a teenager. After attending college in Indiana, he worked in Houston at NASA on the Apollo program and then in Denver as an aerospace engineer, software developer, and technical writer. He and his wife, Leonore, have lived in Denver since 1971.
David has published a number of science fiction, horror, and mystery novels. He has also coauthored two science fiction novels with his son, Daniel. For details, as well as quite a bit of non-fiction reading material, please see David’s Web site, https://www.dvorkin.com.