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their brains from their brain scans?”

“Potentially. If we have a recent scan on file. It’s an involved process and it doesn’t always work out how you hope or expect.”

“Oh.”

“In Oia’s case, her brain scans are very out of date.”

“How out of date?”

“Years.”

“Meaning, if you rebuilt her brain, she wouldn’t remember me?”

“How long have you known her, my king?”

“A few weeks.”

“Unfortunately, she wouldn’t remember you or even recognize you,” Major Akeso shook her head apologetically.

“That sucks,” I said. Not because of Oia. She didn’t have brain damage and hopefully never would. Because of Violet. If Major Akeso could get brain scans for Violet, she could have fixed that dead deer carcass. Assuming it was Violet. But if they did have a brain scan of Violet, hers were probably older than Oia’s, meaning Violet wouldn’t remember me even if Major Akeso could somehow resurrect her with Zalaxian medical technology.

I briefly considered asking Akeso if she could rebuild Violet from scratch using Violet’s DNA and molecular body scans, but I was afraid if I asked, I’d find out there weren’t any. For all I knew, the former King Sekton had a policy of deleting such scans whenever a woman was exiled, or maybe he liked to pick and choose. Based on the stories Violet had told me about her falling out with the former Sekton and getting exiled, that Sekton would most likely have torched her scans himself. She had really pissed him off. At some point I would ask some questions about Violet’s scans, if any. I sighed in disappointment because it would have to wait. I had to prioritize the recovery of my living Bombshells over the possible resurrection of the dead.

I said, “Anyway, what about Oia? And her recovery time?”

Major Akeso nodded, “Because Oia’s bones had shifted as much as they had, and the resulting tissue damage was so extreme—”

I cringed as she said it because I’d seen the results. Like a swollen, melted-wax demon mask someone had bashed too many times with a sledgehammer.

Akeso continued “—the repair process will appear much worse than the outcome, my king. When Oia is completely healed, I promise, she’ll look identical to the woman you remember. You don’t need to worry. Our latest generation of medical microserv technology can do things only dreamed of a century ago.”

“Where I come from, they’re still dreaming about it,” I quipped. “By the way, what is a microserv? Is that anything like nanobots?”

“Nano-whats?”

“Very small Servus bots injected into the body to help repair things. Purely theoretical on my planet, but I think the concept is viable.”

Major Akeso smiled, “That sounds like our microservs. Ours aren’t just viable. They’re a necessity.”

“Are you using any on Oia?”

“Extensively, my king. Modern medicine would only be half as effective without them.”

“Insane,” I said appreciatively.

Major Akeso suddenly frowned, “I assure you, my king. Their application is quite sane. With all due respect, has someone told you otherwise?”

“Oh. No,” I chuckled. “It’s just an expression where I’m from. Wait, are nanobots — I mean Microservs — some kind of hot-button taboo trigger issue around here?”

“I’m not sure I take your meaning, my king.” It was the language barrier issue again. Despite the extensive similarities between Earth English and Zalaxian, there was just enough difference between the two languages that a lot got lost in translation.

“It’s nothing,” I sighed, not wanting to dwell on it. I didn’t care what technology Major Akeso used to heal the Bombshells, as long as she healed them. “What about Venus? Is she getting microservs?”

“Yes, my king. I’ve prescribed them for Venus and Sirius too.”

“Do you have different nanobots, I mean microservs for someone like Sirius?” I was hinting at the fact Sirius was a black panther shifter, something Major Akeso already knew from operating on her. I didn’t want to say it out loud because I was starting to get the impression that shifters were probably considered “Monster” babes by the “Normal” babes, even if they didn’t look it. I had to wonder, did the Normals rank shifters even lower on the social ladder than Monsters or Xenos or whatever they called them? Did the Normals hate shifters more because shifters could pass themselves off as Normals without anyone knowing? That was a guess.

Akeso said, “I’m using some specialized microservs for Sirius, but many are identical to the ones Oia and Venus are getting. With her natural recuperative powers, Sirius should be fine in a few days.”

“Wow. That fast?”

“Yes, my king.”

“Faster than Oia and Venus?”

“Like I said, her recuperative powers are…” she lowered her voice, “…substantial.”

“Right,” I nodded knowingly. Sounded like Sirius being a shifter meant she healed faster than a human ever could, with or without treatment. “Do you have any specialized Microservs for Cygna? She doesn’t look too good.”

Major Akeso frowned, “I beg your pardon, my king, perhaps I’m not remembering correctly, but, um, didn’t you instruct us to not give Cygna any treatment? My king?”

“Oh, right. That was—” I sighed. It had been Venus who insisted I give the order. In truth, I was fishing for information. “How is she doing? Cygna?”

“Based on appearances and her lack of treatment? As good as can be expected, my king.”

“Should we…” I lowered my voice to a bare whisper because I didn’t want Venus overhearing from her recovery room and getting pissed. “…is there anything we should be doing for Cygna?”

Major Akeso searched my eyes.

Being scrutinized by a gorgeous woman was still an experience I was getting used to. As a nerd back on Earth, most women had ignored me. The ones who didn’t were usually like the women I’d known at Caltech. They would talk to me passionately about whatever cool engineering or scientific projects they or we were working on, but conversation didn’t usually go much further than that, and when it did, there was rarely any passion. Whenever I stepped off campus from the Caltech world of hyper-nerdery and into the normal world, most normal women didn’t know I existed. Whether it was the grocery

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