“You’d lost your arm in the crash,” he continued.
“No – I lost it before that,” I interrupted, my voice hoarse.
“I mean your other arm. We are aware of your left arm’s amputation prior to the crash, but you also lost the right arm on impact. You now have two new arms – fully developed and ready to begin therapy.”
“Fully developed – how long have I been out?”
“Nearly two months. You were in very bad shape when the colonists dug you out of the rubble just outside their town. We’ve been performing various surgeries for weeks. Including using your nephew’s tissue to grow you a new right arm.”
“My nephew! He survived? Where is he? Where’s James?”
“He’s matured past incubation, and is now a healthy newborn boy,” said the doctor. “Thanks to you.”
A nurse brought the tiny boy to me, wrapped in a soft white blanket, and laid him in my new arms – arms I owed to this little guy. “Here he is – you’re his only remaining family.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” said the nurse.
I looked down at the sweet baby boy.
“I – I was talking to James.”
THE END
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