The Mortality Principle by Alex Archer Page B

were doing up on that roof?” Garin asked, looking disappointedly down at the empty bag of grapes. He shrugged, crushedthe bag and tossed it into the trash can beside the bed. “I take it you haven’t taken up parkour?”
    Annja shook her head and regretted it an instant later.
    She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to isolate the pain and push it away into some convenient nerveless quadrant of her body where she couldn’t feel it. It didn’t help in the slightest.
    Her eyes were still closed when she sensed the presence of someone else standing at her bedside.
    â€œCan you tell me where it hurts?” the voice asked. It was a woman’s voice, soft and tender and speaking in English.
    â€œEverywhere,” Annja answered, not joking. She opened her eyes, needing one hand to shield them from the light.
    â€œWith good reason,” the nurse said. “The human body isn’t designed to bounce. It’s a fundamental flaw in the design process, if you ask me.”
    â€œYou speak English,” Annja said.
    â€œNope, you’re just suffering a really bad case of concussion,” Garin said.
    The woman laughed.
    â€œDon’t flirt with my doctor,” Annja grumbled, earning another laugh from the woman.
    â€œThey called me off another ward when they realized you were a tourist. Then your rather charming friend appeared.”
    â€œHe’s not charming. He’s a very bad man. You really don’t want to fall for it, believe me,” she replied, and that was the biggest understatement she could have offered.
    â€œThe handsome ones always are,” the doctor said.
    â€œHey, I am here, you know, and contrary to popular opinion, I do have feelings.”
    The doctor offered Garin a lopsided grin, before she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “So, he’s single?”
    That earned a laugh from Annja.
    â€œI’m serious. In this place, I don’t get to meet too many complications that look like he does.”
    â€œMaybe I should leave?” Garin offered. “I’m beginning to feel like a side of beef in a butcher’s window.”
    â€œThat might be a good idea,” the doctor said.
    â€œI’ll go and grab a coffee. I’ll just be down the corridor if you need me.”
    â€œAnd if we don’t, you’ll still be just down the corridor, right?”
    â€œRight,” Garin said. “I’ll be back later. Don’t go anywhere without me.”
    The doctor waited until Garin was out of earshot before saying anything else.
    â€œYou’ve got yourself a looker there.”
    â€œOh, I haven’t got him at all, and I’m not sure I’d want him.” Annja chuckled, correcting the doctor’s assumption. “You don’t want him, either, trust me. He’s much more trouble than he’s worth.”
    â€œAh, but he’s so pretty.” The doctor grinned. “I could make an exception for that pretty face.”
    Annja laughed and wished that she hadn’t. The doctor offered her a small plastic cup with a couple of painkillers inside, and then handed her a glass of water. “They should help. I don’t want to give you anything stronger if we can avoid it.”
    â€œThanks,” Annja said as she threw the first of the pills back. The water on the back of her throat made her feel a little more alive. She offered the glass for a refill when she had drained it.
    â€œBetter?” the doctor asked when she’d taken the second pill. Annja put the empty glass on the nightstand.
    â€œHow long before I’m up and moving again?”
    â€œYou took quite a battering.”
    â€œBut nothing broken? No internal injuries?”
    â€œYou’re an incredibly lucky woman. You’re going to feel pretty sore for a few days, but apart from a few cuts and some pretty impressive bruises, you don’t appear to have done any lasting damage.”
    â€œSo I can