Red supported herself on the waist-high bars at either side of her, walking gingerly. She was wearing cotton shorts, her left leg long and pale and slender. The flesh of her right leg ended just above the knee, began sleek, polished chrome. Tiny LED ’s winked along the edge of the titanium knee-cap, and the doctor was kneeling beside her now with a tiny tool, making some adjustments to the circuitry.

“Ouch!” Red gasped. “That hurts!”

“Of course it does,” the doctor replied. “It’s part of you now, Ms. McKinney, as much as your real leg is.”

I stepped forward and she smiled wanly at me.

The doctor stood and stepped back, nodded at her. She hesitantly released the handrails and put her weight on her legs. Wobbled, caught herself, and set her mouth in a grim line as she took a step forward.

Tiny servo-motors could be heard as she moved, but her cybernetic leg carried her forward with the same easy grace she’d had before the tragedy.

“Looking good, Red. Ready to get back to work?”

“Yeah, Kent. Almost ready.”