Afterburn by Colin Harrison

put Mazy in the SHU," Christina said.
    "Can't be sure of that."
    "Yes, I can. He's threatened her over and over, and he knows her kids are coming. He's putting pressure on her. She's got her whole family coming this Saturday."
    "I know." Dora nodded. "But it's too dangerous."
    "Call Miss Metzger for me."
    "Oh, I don't think—"
    "Just do it, Dora."
    The heavy woman shuffled down the hallway, and Christina stood next to the door of the supply closet, which was large enough to hold the maternity unit's stock of disposable diapers, stacked in jumbo packs to the ceiling, as well as shelves of pacifiers, boxes of ointment for diaper rash, battery-powered breast pumps, and other necessities, including, she knew, the urine test cups.
    "Christina?" came a peevish voice down the hall, followed by an officious jangling of keys—Miss Metzger, the assistant nursing administrator, a stickish woman of forty in red curls who, as far as Christina was concerned, spent too much time with her clipboard and not enough time practicing how babies got made. "Dora says there's a problem with the closet."
    "I noticed earlier that you need more diapers," Christina said.
    "Mmmn, I don't think so," Miss Metzger answered with friendly condescension, confident of her tastefully lurid makeup, her third-rate nursing degree, and her ability to choose sensible shoes. "We just got them in a few days ago." She put a territorial hand on the doorknob.
    This babe looks likes she's been trying to have sex with her lipstick, Christina thought. "I'll show you, okay?"
    "Maybe you should finish the hall."
    "I will, but let me show you."
    Miss Metzger opened the closet door and stood back. Christina had been in the closet dozens of times and quickly studied the diaper supply, noting the two sizes of diapers and counting the packages.
    "It looks good to me," Miss Metzger said.
    Christina sighed. "We have eight babies in the ward now, after Nushawn is gone?"
    "Yes."
    "And I heard two are coming Thursday?"
    Miss Metzger nodded. "Yes, that's right."
    "You have twenty-seven days until the next diaper delivery?"
    "Well, I don't—Let's see." Miss Metzger pulled out a pocket calendar scrawled with reminders and appointments. "Yes, it's twenty-seven days. So"—she swept her hand at the immense wall of diapers—"I think we really do have enough, don't you?"
    "No, Miss Metzger, I really don't."
    "Why?"
    "Well, the babies each use about seven diapers a day," Christina began, stepping into the closet, the urine test cups on a shelf near her head. "It averages out to that. Seven diapers a day multiplied by twenty-seven is one hundred and eighty-nine diapers per baby until the next shipment comes. So, for the eight babies, it's one thousand, five hundred and twelve to last them the whole twenty-seven days."
    Christina paused. She knew her math was right; it always was.
    Miss Metzger nodded importantly. "Okay, I understand."
    "But two more babies arrive in two days, and even assuming that they arrive with a few diapers each, you'll need twenty-four days times seven, times two, which is three hundred and thirty-six diapers. Fifteen-twelve plus three-sixteen is eighteen-forty-eight. The jumbo packages of newborn size you have in there have thirty-two diapers in each. To cover your requirements, you need fifty-eight packs of the newborn size. I count only fifty-four."
    Miss Metzger stared dully at the wall of diapers.
    "But it's more complicated than that. Three of those babies are almost three months old. They're ready to start wearing size small in, say, two weeks. If the diapers are too tight, then it's—it's a rash of diaper rashes. So, for those babies, you need three babies times seven diapers daily times thirteen days, which is two hundred and seventy-three size small diapers. I see you have there eight packets of the smalls, which contain twenty-eight diapers each. Eight times twenty-eight is two hundred and twenty-four. So, if you bump those three babies up in two weeks, then