Bites Worse Than Barks
Declan Finch pressed his face close against the panoramic window of the maglev as it came within the boundaries of Beaverton. The city’s name had echoed in his mind endlessly as his goal as he suffered through the final, grueling year of dental school.
He’d voraciously studied it for the past year. The city-wide nutritional and supplemental program had eradicated dental cavities and residents had “enamel of unprecedented resilience and structural integrity”. With his ticket to a job here, he could have a career studying and replicating their research elsewhere. As soon as he heard of their success, he knew this was his calling.
The train slowed once it reached Beaverton Central Station with a soft sigh. He grabbed his bags from overhead and stepped out into the vivid station. Hexagons of translucent solar panels dappled the light as it gave him a brilliant view of the clear-blue sky.
As Declan craned his neck up as he stood on the platform, a cheerful voice greeted him.
“An Ontario Dental School hoodie? You must be the new arrival, Mr... um...”
“Finch. Declan Finch,” he replied, turning to see a stout man in a fern-green conductor uniform.
A name tag around his neck like a bowtie read “GUS”. But what really drew Declan’s attention was his grin. Each tooth was perfectly white, brilliantly shaped, and seemed undulled by decades of chewing.
“Well, Mr. Finch, we’ve heard of your arrival in the papers. You’ll love it here. We take smiles seriously here, the strongest in the country if not the world. Just...” he let out a small chuckle. “Be careful ‘til you get the hang of things. See this jerky?” he produced a small dark meat stick from his breat pocket. “They’re not for you I’m afraid. They’re too chewy.”
“Thanks for the tip, Gus,” Declan let out an uncomfortable laugh.
“Enjoy the city!”
Declan rolled his suitcase out of the station. The city appeared before him. Electric trams silently rolled down pathways made of recycled glass. Tall buildings were built in classical architecture and were draped in flowering vines. He could see a pocket park where a family was having a picnic. The children effortlessly cracked open giant walnuts with their teeth.
Everywhere he walked he could see people smiling. Their teeth were healthy, but they also seemed formidable. The city’s public dental program seemed more successful in person than he had expected just by reading the journals. He felt excited to work with this pinnacle of oral health and to learn more about their culture.
The Alpine Clinic was a futuristic dental clinic on the upper floor of a terraced building. When he stepped into the reception area, he was bathed in the soft light of a majestic chandelier. He was astonished by the oppulence and the sweet floral scent in the air.
The dental suites were gleaming rooms split apart by panes of smart-glass which could grow opaque when a patient walked in for privacy. The empty chairs looked like luxurious thrones full of cushions on top of polished chrome platforms. The instrument arrays were placed carefully along the wall alongside incricately designed mouthguards. Some were made from gold while others seemed to be more of an impact-resistant plastic.
“Mr. Finch, I presume?” his deep observations were interrupted by a woman’s voice.
He turned to see her approaching in a long white coat. She had a perfect posture and so were her teeth. He immediately guessed that she was Dr. Segal.
“Dr. Segal? It’s an honor to finally meet you face-to-face,” he extended his hand. Her grip was firm and brief.
“Your train made good time then. Welcome to Alpine. We Beaverton has a unique way of making an impression,” she gestured for him to follow her. “We pride ourselves on our work here, and the results speak for themsevles. You’ll find the Beaverton dentition distinct and worth studying as its own branch of dental science.”
As they walked, she outlined his initial duties. “For the first few months you’ll have to re-learn the ropes. Standard protocols, as you’re probably used to, but there are nuances. I think you’ll pick up on them fast. Always ensure the patient is comfortable and ensure you secure the instruments. We use specialized hardware here, reinforced for our patients. Accidents are rare when proper care and protocol are followed very carefully.”
She seemed a bit strict, particularly her focus on protocol, but he knew this was a highly disciplined professional environment. He felt determined to meet her high standards.
“Your predecessor was adept, but she lacked an... anticipatory finesse,” she commented as they reached a monitor displaying a complex 3D model. Declan looked at the detail of the cross-section.
“When you see patient files, there’ll be something unique we do here showing a ‘bite calibration score’. It measures their force potential. As you may guess, our long-term residents have very high score.”
A patient, a man in a fancy business suit, then emerged from a suite. The glass panel quickly faded into transparency to show an assistant standing inside.
“Thanks Harper, let Dr. Segal know the edge refinement on my left tooth is just perfect.”
He flashed the two of them a big grin and Declan caught noticed an almost imperceptibly honed canine.
“Edge refinement? A cosmetic procedure?”
“Partially,” Dr. Segal acknowledged. “Some find it improves their articulation for presentations and the like. Others prefer the aesthetic changes. It’s all about their personal expression, not much different from a particular haircut. Within the limits of health, naturally. You’ll learn more about the boundaries of what we can do over time. But until then I’ll set you up with someone straightforward. Lily Carmichael is here for a standard check-up. She’s nine years old. So you can fetch her file and meet here in thirty minutes.”
Declan nodded as he tried to absorb all this info. He had spent years studying this stuff, and spent a while as an intern. But with bite calibration scores and edge refinements, there seemed to be even more that he didn’t know. At the same time, his apprehension was balanced by the thrill of being on the cutting edge of dental innovation.
He headed into Room Three and pulled an office chair up next to the patient chair. He lifted the chairside monitor up and pulled out the keyboard from underneath. He pulled up Lily’s medical record. She was female, age nine, and hadn’t had any prior cavities. Her Bite Calibration Score was high, although he didn’t really have a baseline to compare it with.
He examined the instruments from the wall and picked a few: a polymer-tipped explorer, a reinforced mirror, and an air-water syringe.
A moment later, a dark-haired child was led into the room by a dental hygienist.
“Hi there, I’m Lily!” she said energetically. She squeezed a colorful plastic figure of a six-legged beaver with long teeth that went all the way to its toes.
“Hello Lily, I’m Dr. Finch. That’s a very cool friend you’ve got there.”
She squeezed the beaver tighter.
“We’re just going to check on your teeth to make sure they’re all happy and healthy. It’ll be quick,” he said reassuringly.
He adjusted the chair with a soft whir to descend. He noticed how nervously she walked towards the chair. Lots of kids were scared of the dentist, and he could understand.
“Let’s take a little peek,” he said amicably.
She opened her mouth a little bit.
“Wider, please.”
She opened wide and he adjusted the overhead LED. He leaned in with his mirror and explorer ready in his hands. Lily’s teeth were flawless. Each one was perfectly aligned and pearly white. Her molars had a great shape and her incisors looked healthy.
“My Lily,” he was genuinely impressed. “You’ve got a champion mouth. I guess that’s Beaverton strong, eh?”
He moved the tools gently forward. The explorer carefully tipped one of the molars.
“I’m just going to count them now.”
He noticed her flinching slightly as his instrument made contact.
“It’s okay. It’ll just be a few seconds,” he reassured.
He moved the explorer to an incisor and rested his left index finger gently on her lower lip to steady his view as he had always done. He didn’t know what caused her to react suddenly, but her head jerked and then she quickly shut her mouth.
There was a sudden snap of sensation and then a sickening sound of a release.
He drew his hand back and a cold dread went down his spine. The world suddenly grew blurry. He looked at his gloved hand and saw the tip of his finger was gone. Her teeth were so sharp they amputated it cleanly. It was lying there on the chair, in the middle of Lily’s dental bib. Dark blood instantly trickled down his hand.
Lily let out a terrified wail.
“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to!” she screeched.
The door suddenly opened and Dr. Segal rushed in. She clocked the scenario in a few seconds, taking in the scene and understanding what happened.
“Code Red,” she called down the hall, although Declan could hardly hear over his ringing ears. “Jori, retrieval kit now! Get the synth-skin and the trauma box.”
She grabbed Declan’s arm and elevated it above his head. “Finch, I need you to apply direct pressure to your hand. Deep breaths. Calm down. Panicking won’t help reattach it.”
Declan was too tired to open his eyes, but he could hear the soft rhythmic beep of his vital signs. It was the middle of the night now in the hospital’s trauma unit, and he wasn’t the only person dealing with an accidental amputation in there. He couldn’t sleep. There was a constant phantom pain where his index finger used to be.
He thought about the vague warnings he had heard and how true they had become. The bite calibration score and the edge refinements were just parts that had culminated in his accident.
Gently, his eyelids rose. As he tried adjusting to the light, he could see a medical drone quietly buzzing overhead refilling his IV pump. He could see the sterile tiles on the ceiling. Everything felt different now. The welcoming atmosphere of Beaverton and their smiles... their predatory smiles. They had been so focused on individual pride in their teeth they turned a simple human bite into something lethal.
He had wanted to find the pinnacle of dental success, but now he had experienced it all too literally. His future in dentistry seemed as severed as the tip of his finger.