The Last of the Firsts

by G J Ogden

  “We have to get you out of here, as soon as possible,” he said, almost blurting the words out. “We have to get you to a medical facility.”

  Maria closed the flap of the PVSM and then reached into her pocket for the injector pack. “Which only means we’re in the exact same position as we were before you knew,” said Maria, taking out the injector and inserting a capsule. “The only difference is that now you’re distracted, thinking about me, instead of how to get us out of here.”

  Page started tapping his foot rapidly on the deck plating. “Is that a good idea, so soon after the last shot?”

  Maria pressed the injector to her neck and waited for the sharp prick and tell-tale hiss as the chemicals entered her blood stream. She replaced the injector in the pack, and put it back into her pocket. “Look, Karl, I appreciate the concern, but unless we can get through this wall and find Ashley, we’re both dead, anyway. So just focus on that problem and let me worry about me.”

  Page scowled back at her; Maria could see he was angry, but angry was good. Anger was something she could use to help focus his energies, like a magnifying glass. It was better than sympathy, which was the last thing Maria wanted, or felt she deserved, from Page or anyone else.

  A metallic thud startled them both, and they edgily looked around, finally spotting that a hatch had opened about ten meters directly above them. A second later a utility drone flew through and then immediately swung left, gliding out into the cavity. The hatch remained open.

  As a reflex action, Page drew his sidearm and aimed it towards the drone, but Maria pushed his arm down. “Wait, it’s just a UD, it’s probably come here to run some routine maintenance or tests, perhaps radiation checks.”

  Page glanced back up at the hatch and watched as it began to slowly swing shut again. He slid the sidearm back into his holster, and peered over at Maria, eyebrows raised. “There’s our way through.”

  Maria looked at the hatch and then back at Page. “You have got to be kidding me? I thought you were the one who didn’t like tight squeezes?”

  “I like them more than hanging about in an irradiated, quarantined zone. Besides, we need to get you to a medic, remember?”

  Maria rested her hands on her hips and considered Page’s idea. It was possible that they could climb up using the crossbeams and wait for the utility drone to return through the hatch. Then, if they were quick, they could pass through the opening before it closed again, but it would have to be timed to perfection.

  “How long did the hatch stay open for?” asked Maria.

  “I counted about forty five seconds all in. Not much time, but if we climb up there and wait, it should be enough.”

  “We don’t know what’s on the other side though. It could be a sheer drop, for all you know.”

  “Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out,” said Page, touchily. “Unless you have any better ideas?”

  Maria shrugged. “What the hell, it beats hanging around in here, especially if you’re going to get all moody. But, if I get crushed, we’re going to fall out.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” replied Page, smiling. “Do you want to go up first?”

  “No, I’ll leave that honor to you.”

  “You just want to copy my climbing route,” quipped Page, turning to face the partition and testing a few hand-holds, before starting to climb. He soon discovered that it was harder than it had first appeared, and he had to stop periodically to rest his fingers.

  Maria followed, keeping half an eye on the utility drone, which was still humming around the cavity. It looked to be taking sensor readings at set locations along the surface of the outer dome. It then hummed over to the crawlspace and halted, emitting a sort of garbled electronic beep.

  “It may be detecting an increase in radiation, from when we opened the panel in the quarantined zone,” said Maria, matching Page move for move. Though she wouldn’t admit it, she did want Page to go first so that she could copy his climbing route.

  “If it detects an anomalous reading, it may leave in a hurry,” grunted Page, pulling himself alongside the hatchway and starting to sound out of breath. As soon as the words had escaped Page’s lips, the utility drone made a series of high-pitched squawks and warbles and then started to ascend rapidly towards them.

  “You had to open your big mouth!”

  “How about you put your energy into getting up here?” snapped Page. “We have no idea when that drone might return, so this could be our only shot!”

  The hatch steadily swung open as the utility drone rose sharply and aligned itself with the opening. As soon as the hatch was wide enough, the utility drone raced through at more than double the speed it had entered.

  “Go!” shouted Maria, hoisting herself level with the opening as Page grabbed the bottom lip of the hatch and pulled himself up. The muscles in his forearms burned and his fingers throbbed, as if a thousand tiny needles were slowly burrowing into his bones. He hauled himself through the opening, sliding across on his stomach, and grabbed a crossbeam on the opposite side.

  He heard Maria shout, “Hurry up Karl!”, but then had a horrifying realization that he no idea how to safely make the transition to the other side without falling.

  “Karl, hurry!” Maria shouted again, and this time she sounded panicked.

  Damn it! Page cursed, and then he threw himself through the opening, twisting his body around to slide down the opposite side. The full force of his weight pressed down on his already strained fingers, causing the metal to bite into them. He yelled in pain and his grip failed; desperately he clawed at the wall, and finally caught a crossbeam, leaving a vertical smear of blood painted on the partition.

  “Clear, come on!” Page shouted through gritted teeth, and heard Maria grunt as she pulled herself into the hatch. Page peered down and saw a platform a couple of meters down from where he dangled. He released his grip and dropped onto it like a stone. The drop was further than he had anticipated, and he hit hard, his legs crumpling under him. If the fall had not knocked the breath from his lungs, he would have cried out again. Peering up, he saw Maria pushing through, and got to his feet, steadying himself by hooking an arm through a bent crossbeam. He heard the mechanical whir of the hatch beginning to close, and his head snapped upwards, searching for Maria, but she was still not fully through the opening.

  “Maria, come on, it’s closing!”

  The strength in Maria’s hands and arms was failing, and it took almost everything she had left to drag herself to the other side, narrowly missing having her hand crushed by the hatch as it whirred shut. She peered over the edge and saw Page, urging her to hurry, but he was several meters below her, and she had no idea how to traverse the distance. The hatch door began to push her off the opening, and if she didn’t make a move soon, it would shove her off completely, or crush her.

  “Page, you’re going to have to catch me!” she shouted. It was a desperate move, but the only one she had.

  “What? No!”

  But there was no time to repeat herself; she just had to hope that Page’s reactions were as sharp as they had been when they fought together on the planet. She gritted her teeth and slid feet first over the threshold. The acceleration was frightening, and before she realized it she was hurtling past Page. She thrust out her hand towards the soldier, whose expression was a tormented mix of surprise and pure horror. Time seemed to slow down as the stale air raced over her face, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the impact of her body against the deck below, but then a hand closed around her wrist, and she was swung hard against the partition wall. The impact robbed of her breath and she was unable to cry out as pain saturated her body, but the penetrating howl from Page would have drowned out her screams anyway. She glanced up, head throbbing, and saw Page, arm hooked through a crossbeam, straining to hold on to Maria’s wrist. His face was red, and knotted in agony, as if he was being subjected to an unimaginably horrific form of torture.

  Maria glanced down; she was dang
ling perhaps two or three meters from the deck below. “Karl, let go! I can make it!”

  Page had no breath to answer, but Maria felt his grip loosen, and she prepared herself for the final drop. Air again rushed over her body and as her boots struck the deck, she managed to buckle her knees and roll forwards, but the momentum still sent her crashing into the railings. The collision felt like being pummeled by a pack of roamers, and for a moment, she blacked out.

  “Maria…”

  She was aware of the voice only dimly at first, but then the shout came through more clearly, as the fogginess in her head cleared. She pushed herself up, grimacing as cuts and bruises made their presence felt, and saw Page, slumped on the narrow platform half-way up the partition wall.

  “Maria, my shoulder… I think it’s dislocated…”

  Maria staggered underneath the platform and peered up. “Just hang on, I’ll find a way to get you down.”

  “Hang on? Seriously!” Page laughed, but then his face contorted and his whole body shuddered as searing pain shot through his shoulder.

  Maria shook her throbbing head, “This is no time for jokes, Karl,” she scolded, though secretly, she admired Page’s ability to retain a sense of humor in such desperate circumstances. However, right at that instant, she needed him to be sober and serious. She also found it perversely amusing that her partner lying suspended on a platform, several meters above ground in a dangerous section of a hostile base was not the most perilous event they’d shared during their brief adventures together.

  Maria scanned the deck and wall, looking for anything that could be of use, and spotted a simple ladder, stowed flush into the side of the partition. She pulled on it and it eventually came free, though from the dirt and dust, it seemed like it hadn’t be used in a long time, if ever. She studied the thin frame and saw that it was extendable, and was probably intended to allow an engineer to access the hatch electronics from the platform that Page was trapped on. She separated the two sections, hooked the upper section onto the edge of the platform, and then lowered the base onto the deck. It fitted perfectly, but it was also the most insubstantial-looking ladder that Maria had ever seen. She grabbed it and shook it to test its sturdiness, but this only reinforced her concerns, and she worried about it holding just her own weight, never mind the combined weight of both her and Page.

  “Okay, I’m coming up,” Maria called out, before stepping onto the lower rungs and climbing the first few steps. The thin metal ladder creaked, but held. The climb itself was agonizing and seemed to twinge every bruise and scrape on her body, but eventually she reached the top and Page shuffled towards her.

  “It’s definitely dislocated,” he grunted, nodding towards the square-looking joint of his already wounded shoulder. “And I’ve no strength left in my hands. You’re going to have to support me as we go down.”

  Maria nodded, and helped to guide Page’s feet onto the rungs of the ladder, while holding tightly to the frame and acting as a human safety net. Maria could see that Page’s hands were smeared in blood and that blood had soaked into the creases of his elbow on his other arm, from where he had hooked it around the damaged beam. An awkward ballet continued for a couple of minutes, with both of them needing to rest and pause to allow the frequent, intense stabs of pain to wane, until they were finally in position.

  “Okay, I step and then you step, got it?” said Maria

  “You’re the boss…” said Page, weakly. He was exhausted from the effort of the climb, and the wearying effect of being in constant pain.

  Maria guided Page down the ladder, step-by-step, and though their progress was painfully slow, they finally reached the bottom, where they collapsed on their backs side-by-side on the rough mesh deck, breathing heavily. Maria could feel her own scrapes and bruises much more acutely now, so much so that even breathing hurt. She ran a hand across her side and was pretty sure that one or two ribs were cracked. But, compared to Page, she was in relatively good condition, and if it were not for his catch, she would probably be dead.

  “Thanks…” wheezed Page.

  “Right back at you, Karl. You saved my life.”

  “We’ll call it even, then...” replied Page, attempting a smile, but the pain was too severe, and his mouth just twisted into a crooked grimace.

  Maria pushed herself up, and helped to lift Page a little so that his back rested against the railings. Page bit down hard, stifling cries of pain, but once he was resting upright, his injuries felt slightly easier.

  “I’m going to take a look at your shoulder,” said Maria, unfastening the top buttons of Page’s shirt and slowly lifting it off his injured shoulder. “This might hurt a bit.”

  “Oh, just a bit? That’s good, it will be an improvement.”

  Maria shook her head again in response to Page’s dark humor, and lifted the flap of her PVSM. She entered medical assessment mode and held it close to Page’s shoulder. A cool blue beam of light scanned the injured area and then a 3D scan of his shoulder appeared on the screen.

  “It looks worse than it is,” said Maria, closing the flap and reaching into her trouser pocket for the compact medikit that Gaia had given them both before leaving. “I’m going to give you a special little something from Gaia to accelerate healing, and then a hit for the pain, okay?”

  “No pain meds, Sal, they will just knock me out, and we can’t afford to be hanging out here any longer,” Page replied, suddenly stern and serious. “If that probe took off to report a radiation leak, we can expect company fairly soon. Just numb it locally and give me the healing accelerant.”

  “Okay…” said Maria, in a way that made it clear she thought Page was crazy. She tore a strip off the bottom of her shirt, rolled it up into tight bundle and held it out to Page.

  “What’s that for?”

  “For you to bite down on,” said Maria, coolly. “You’re going to need it.”

  Page’s frowning grimace became more frown than grimace, but he took the bundle, and placed it between his teeth. Maria then pressed one of Gaia’s advanced healing stimulants into the injector and administered it to Page. His face was already so twisted in pain that the hiss of the injector didn’t even register. She picked out another healing accelerant from the medikit and applied this to herself, then removed a minor pain tab and placed it on her tongue, where it instantly liquefied. She then replaced the injector, removed a small canister from the medikit and liberally sprayed a blue mist all around Page’s shoulder. Finally, she pressed the canister back into the medikit and slid it back in her pocket.

  “Are you ready?” said Maria, getting herself into position.Page took several deep breaths then bit down on the rolled up piece of Maria’s shirt and nodded.

  “Okay, I’m going to count down from five,” said Maria, remembering her first-aid training and sliding her hands into the optimal position on Page’s arm. She’d relocated a shoulder a couple of times before, and so felt confident she knew what she was doing.

  “Five… four… three…” and then Maria swiftly manipulated Page’s shoulder and felt it locate back into position, as the soldier’s muffled screams filled in the gaps in Maria’s aborted countdown.

  Page spat out the cloth bundle and rested back, breathing heavily like a sprinter at the end of a one-hundred meter dash. He gingerly flexed his shoulder and though there was still some pain, it moved normally.

  “What the hell happened to two and one?”

  “I got bored waiting,” replied Maria, with a wicked grin. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter 7

  The door slid open and Major Darien bustled into the office that General Kurren had sequestered from Archer, after he had murdered him. The dumpling-shaped figure of Governor Jacob Kuba was standing behind the desk, quietly looking up at the pictures on the wall.

  “Kuba, we need to talk…” Darien began, but Kuba spun around and pressed a finger to his lips. Darien stared back at him, his brow furrowed, while Kuba coolly pointed to the door, whi
ch was still open. Darien stepped further into the office and waited for the door to thud shut behind him.

  “We must be cautious, dear Major,” said Kuba, smoothly. “More than ever it is vital that we appear strong and united, and that the subject of our discussions does not also become the subject of idle gossip.”

  Darien’s frown developed into a scowl. It was obvious that Kuba was indirectly admonishing him for his lack of restraint and flustered temperament, and he did not appreciate the politician’s condescending tone. But, though he felt like putting Kuba back in his box, there were more important matters to discuss.

  “The probe we sent into the atmosphere managed to transmit some data back to the base before it burned up,” Darien said, intentionally ignoring Kuba’s rebuke. “It failed to detect any transponder idents from Kurren’s unit, and from the limited images we could recover, the transport ship we sent down is still docked at the spaceport outside Green Haven.”

  Kuba’s expression was flat and gave nothing away. “So, it is confirmed then? General Kurren and his units are lost, and Maria Salus has returned?”

  Darien pulled up a chair and slumped into it. He rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and then, with a disconsolate tone, answered. “Yes, it would appear so, Governor.”

  Unseen to Darien, Kuba’s lip curled into a greasy smile at the acknowledgment by the de-facto military leader of his status as Governor. He slid into Kurren’s plush executive chair and rested his elbows on the desk, which held a portable holo and a few cracked photos of former Governor Archer and his family. He remembered how General Kurren had been methodically and callously discarding the personal objects belonging to Archer after the coup. But, if what Darien had said was true, the mighty General was now dead, and the knowledge of this buoyed Kuba greatly. He found himself sizing up the room and mentally placing his own personal belongings in the space.