There is a second film and the tray is still warm.
Nothing is written in the name field. It has been blank since Tuesday.
Six plates. One envelope.
The last film is still in the tray.
BONEWINDOW
One patient, unnamed. Six cassettes. A wall unit that counts what she can never get back. Every plate you develop has one bone in it that a person lying on her back cannot have.
The room waits.
The dose is where you left it.
Reading the machine.
Count the dose. The wall unit is the only number in the room. Over 200 mGy and they take her off the table.
Wait for the plateau. The chest stops at the top of a breath. Fire there and the film is sharp and cheap. Fire across the rise and you pay twice for a blur.
Aim ahead of the settle. The tube has mass. It arrives after you do, and the carriage is dragged by her breathing.
The lungs are cheap. Dose is set by what the beam passes through. Bone costs. Air costs little. A field that only half covers what you want will still cost less.
The generator is going down. Every cassette you advance makes the next exposure longer, and longer means more dose, and the film will not improve for it.
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