THREE DROPS IN THE PIPE

The medical membrane was coming loose at one edge of Tiago's palm. Under the darkened film, the skin had gone from red to a moist yellow, with two blisters at the base of the fingers. He kept his hand suspended over the table, while Ilva brought the lens of the household terminal close without letting the camera frame the rest of the kitchen. The reading recommended automated removal and treatment at the clinic linked to the operation. The first available slot coincided with Mariana's third shift. The second required a responsible adult with active residential access to accompany the patient. Tiago drew his arm back. She'll come, he said. Ilva closed the recommendation before the terminal booked on its own. She set out three containers on the table. In the first, she put the portion of water left over from the discharge Mariana had diverted. In the second, she diluted a dose of decontaminant. The third was left empty to receive the used membrane. She washed the thermal tweezers for eight seconds, waited for the ultraviolet light to complete its cycle and asked Tiago to rest his arm on a folded towel. It'll sting on the third pass, she said. It stung on the second. He clenched his teeth. Ilva lifted the film by the edge that had already given way, advancing a finger's width at a time. When she reached the first blister, she stopped. She wet the gauze in the container, pressed three times around the burn and let the liquid run onto the towel. The terminal counted the water consumption at the sink, although not a drop had gone into the plumbing. At the fourth press, a notification covered the reading of the wound. Twenty-six minutes remained of the challenge window linked to the branch line. After that, the diversion found by the root would be incorporated into the operational map as a contingency line, and the diversion to the crushing plant would gain the administrative serenity of things that had always been there. Ilva lowered the brightness. Tiago was watching the thermal container Mariana had left. The lid still held the smell of maize. He pulled the piece close with his right hand and tried to steady his arm on it. Higher, she said. Ilva turned the container on its side, wrapped it in the towel and made a rest. The palm stayed above his chest. She removed the rest of the membrane. A thread of discharge followed the film into the empty container. Nineteen minutes were left. The skin needed four to dry. Ilva kept his hand open while the terminal offered faster routes to close the treatment. Authenticate referral. Request linked transport. Accept automatic harmonisation of the incident. Each option required her face and delivered the burn to the same chain that counted the water from the washing. Tiago looked at the door. Is Mariana coming back today? After the fifth shift. Which one is today? The second. He counted on the fingers of his free hand, got it wrong at the fourth and started again. Ilva opened the wrapping of the new membrane. She aligned the transparent strip with the base of the palm, pressed first the centre, then the sides, then each gap between the fingers. The adhesion had to be left without an air pocket. A bubble the size of a seed remained near the larger burn. She peeled off half and redid it. Eleven minutes were left. The audited channel in her ear vibrated once. The man from the other town had sent a message forty-two seconds long. The playback would remain available until the end of that window, as if tenderness too had to keep business hours. Ilva did not open the audio. She fastened the last edge of the membrane and asked Tiago to close his hand slowly. First one finger. Then two. At the third, the film pulled. Again, she said. He repeated it. The membrane followed the fold without coming loose. Ilva discarded the gauze in the medical waste compartment and poured the contaminated water into the terminal's sealed reservoir. The panel confirmed the procedure, debited nine minutes of extraordinary household use from her and closed the branch line window. The message disappeared with it. Tiago touched the thermal container with his protected hand. I want to take it to her. Mariana's residential access would refuse any delivery associated with the address. Even so, he washed the lid with the last thread of water from the first container, dried it inside and closed the container. Ilva prepared a portion of cold broth, two ears of maize and the sachet of salts that Mariana was supposed to dilute during the external shift. She arranged everything in order of use. Salts on top, broth in the middle, maize at the bottom. The heat was already thickening the air on the porch. When they left, the terminal asked for an adult presence in the house within fifteen minutes. Ilva went with Tiago along the crushing plant road. Behind them, the count reached zero. A violet beam ran along the door frame, read the empty rooms and transferred the address to occupancy review. In the gutter, three drops ran down the exposed pipe. The first vanished in the dust. The second darkened a grain of ore. The third hung beneath the metal, holding the blue light of the licensed polygon.