by Rachel Ford
“I can get it,” Kerel volunteered.
He glared at her, though, and she remained in place. “I’m injured, ensign, not incapacitated.”
“Yessir.”
If her tone was anything to go by, she wasn’t seeing the distinction. Still, Elgin did. Maybe it was just a state of mind. But if he was going to survive the next few minutes, he needed to think like it. Even if he wasn’t overly optimistic about his own chances, after everything Kerel had risked pulling him out of the wreckage, he owed it to her to try. He owed it to her to try to get them across this field of death and destruction alive. “Listen,” he said, “I’m going to need you to distract them.”
She stared at him dubiously. “Sir?”
He glanced around them, at the wreckage, half buried under sand, behind which they hid. “If you can crawl over there-” He pointed to the far end of the dune. “Don’t let them get a clear read on you – I don’t want you getting shot – but make sure they know you’re there. They’ll think you’re planning to make a break for it.” There was another spot of cover a few meters over. It would be a logical move – if she wasn’t bound and determined to babysit him, anyway.
“Okay.”
“They’ll try to stop you. If you get behind that, they’re going to have a hard time hitting you. Hopefully they’ll be careless. I’ll be waiting, to pop ‘em off as they show their faces.”
She nodded. “Copy.”
“Let me get in position first. I’ll give you a signal when I want you to draw their attention. And Kerel?”
“Yes sir?”
“Don’t go getting yourself shot.”
She grinned at him, with that nervous smile he was coming to see was her go-to in hair raising situations like this one. “You too, sir.”
“Believe me, it’s not on my list. Broken bones are enough.”
“Good. You’re grouchy enough already.” She scuttled away at this, before he could offer a rejoinder.
It was just as well. This next part was going to hurt like hell. Elgin pivoted, shifting his weight toward the left side of his body, and strangling the grunt of pain that came with the movement. He glanced around for a handhold, and spied a bit of hull from the wreckage. Then, he grabbed hold, and as soon as his fingers found purchase, flipped himself onto his stomach. He didn’t want to spend time thinking about what he was going to do.
This time, he couldn’t repress the cry of agony. He’d been careful, but there was no way to move like that without sending shockwaves of pain up and down his leg.
He ignored Kerel’s, “Sir?”
He breathed in and out, waiting for the pain to return to the steady throb he was already intimately acquainted with. Then, inch by agonizing inch, he dragged himself up the side of the dune created by displaced sand, over the smooth surface of the ship fragment, until he could poke his head over the top, if he had a death wish. Not that he wasn’t tempted, if only to put himself out of his misery, he thought wryly.
Instead, he turned to Kerel, signaling that she could begin. Her eyes were wide and fearful, but she nodded like a good soldier, and moved off.
I sure as hell hope I don’t get us both killed, Elgin mused. This place was a death sentence anyway, so it didn’t make sense to worry about surviving.
Still, there was some part of him that wanted to pull through, the more he fought to do it. Maybe it was seeing his men and women still fighting to live. Maybe it was outliving the sons-of-bitches all around. Maybe I just don’t like losing.
But whatever it was, however he’d felt a few minutes ago, however much easier it seemed than working with his battered body at the moment…Elgin didn’t want to die.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The shots were coming fast and heavy. He heard Kerel squeal in fright. Carefully, gingerly, he lifted his head and counted the soldiers in front of him.
One. Two. Three. Where’s the fourth? He screwed up his face, scrutinizing the pile of wreckage that protected his attackers. Ah. Gotcha. Crawling on his belly, the fourth man was snaking a way toward the far end of his own hiding spot.
Elgin trained his sights on him first. He didn’t want anyone to surprise Kerel. He drew a steadying breath, and pulled the trigger.
He saw the trail of red cut across the distance between himself and his mark. He saw the other man jolt, and then go limp. He pivoted back toward the remaining soldiers, firing in rapid succession. One shot; two; three. The final man was shifting toward him when the beam of light energy bore through him, leaving a singed hole in his skull.
Elgin put another round in each of them before allowing himself to survey the scene before him, and get his bearings. The pristine white beach was littered in smoldering black and red heaps of metal. Bodies, some killed in skirmishes like these, others burnt beyond recognition in the original impact, lay here and there. Puddles of blue blood soaked into the sand, staining it in dark hues. Great billows of poisonous black smoke rose from the wreckage of various craft.
It was the scene of a massacre, of a slaughter – a slaughter still ongoing.
And behind it all lay the forest, its trees with their fluffy fronds blowing in the breeze. There was something hateful, something truly loathsome about the reds of those trees. Elgin felt it in his bones, an insensible, visceral reaction. Maybe it was his feeling from before. Maybe it was the color itself, and his associations with the slaughterhouses on Central. Maybe it was this day and this place.
But Elgin hated the sight of those trees.
“Ready, sir?” Kerel’s voice sounded behind him.
He nodded. “Let’s go.”
She pulled him onto his feet again, and relying on her strength and his good leg to move, he found that turning hurt less this time. “The rendezvous point is there,” she said, pointing to a cluster of trees a few hundred meters away. “Just past the shore. Vaki said they’d wait as long as they could.”
“How many survivors do we have?”
“No idea, sir. We lost a few of the bridge crew. And Gul’s still alive, but he lost a lot of blood. He was impaled on a piece of his console frame. I know the lower decks are gone – obliterated, when we reached the ground.”
“It’s a miracle anyone survived,” Elgin said.
“Yes. The shields kept us intact when we hit the Phoenix. But even a little bit more acceleration, and we would have been flattened when we reached the rest of the ships.”
They’d covered a short stretch of the shore, ducking between dunes and sprinting from points of cover. She paused now, as an errant beam of energy whipped past them, releasing his wrist to draw her own sidearm and take a few shots.
Then, they were back at it, running for the tree line. Elgin felt useless, but worse than useless. If Kerel was on her own, she’d have been to relative safety long ago. He was the only reason she was still trading fire among the smoking wrecks of the loyalist fleet.
He gritted his teeth, pressing on without complaint despite the pain. The meters fell away, and the trees got closer and loomed larger. “Just a little ways now, sir,” Kerel grunted as they mounted a summit of sand and rubble.
He nodded. He hurt too much to speak. His lungs burned with exhaustion and the residue of all the smoke he’d inhaled earlier. His muscles quivered with fatigue, and his head throbbed. None of that, of course, compared to the sensation of the broken leg. He tried to lift it, so it didn’t drag across the ground, but he could only manage a little. Every time it brushed a protruding bit of wreckage, fresh agony would swarm his senses.
They moved for a little rise, and the shelter it afforded. He hoped Kerel would give him a moment’s rest. They were close now, but he needed a breather, a moment to refocus and master the pain.
“We can just-” She cut off suddenly as a soldier jutted up, into view, bringing his weapon to bear on them.
Shit. Elgin wrenched free from her grip, reaching for his own sidearm. At the same time, Kerel propelled herself into him.
“Sir, look out!”
And he saw the sights of his pistol, well above his target’s head. In the moment, all he concentrated on was bringing them down, level; and no sooner than did the other man’s face provide a backdrop to his barrel, did he fire.
Time resumed at its normal pace. He hit the sand and debris behind them with a force that left him seeing flashes of white. Kerel collapsed on top of him, and then rolled off.
“Dammit, Ensign,” he breathed, “what did I say about heroics?”
But she didn’t have a rejoinder waiting for him. She didn’t even have a groan of pain. She said nothing at all, and the silence forced Elgin to push up, through the haze of injury, to look at her.
Kerel lay, limp and unmoving, in an ever-widening puddle of deep blue.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Well,” Brek sighed, settling into his customary armchair beside Nikia Idan’s bed, “you missed absolutely nothing. Telari and Giya got in a shouting match –”
“Wait, what?”
He nodded. “Over the relief transports. Giya wants to co-opt more private craft, Telari says we can’t run the risk of seeming like we’re taking punitive actions against the contributors.”
Nik scoffed. “And that’s nothing?”
“They didn’t come to an accord. We just tabled it for another day.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “That’s all we seem to do lately: table things for another day, another version of the same argument.”
She smiled at him. “You might need bed rest soon too, at this rate.”
He laughed. “I might at that, Nik. I might at that.” Now, he scrutinized her. Her hair was gathered back loosely in a single braid. The dark ruts under her eyes were mostly gone, and there was a flush of color in her cheeks. “It looks like it’s doing you good, at any rate.”
She shook her head with an adamance that made him smile. “I’m going mad, cooped up here. Kel didn’t want me watching the session today. He said I needed to sleep. I barely get out of this room. He only lets me take two short walks around the garden a day, and only with someone else.”
“Have you taken them both?” he wondered. He recognized the frustration in her tones. They were supposed to read over reports tonight, but there’d be no way she could concentrate in her current state of agitation.
She shook her head again. “Just the morning one. The Kels won’t be home for another hour.”
He shrugged. “If you wanted, I could go with you.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Want? Brek, I’ve been dying to get outside all day.” She hesitated, though. “If you don’t mind babysitting me, that is?”
“Come on, Nik. I’ll step outside. You get ready. And, if you’re feeling up to it, maybe we can sit outside for a while.”
She smiled at him. “You’re my favorite babysitter. You know that, right?”
He laughed. “Come on. Let’s get going before Doctor Kel gets back and yells at us.”
He waited outside her room, and in a few minutes she emerged, having swapped the house dress of earlier for a day dress. The pregnancy was showing more and more these days, and some days he was amazed she had managed to keep up the pace she had for as long as she had. He was amazed, too, by the change in her. It had barely been a week, and she looked so much healthier, so much more alive. She was radiant. Beautiful.
Brek kept all of these musings to himself, though, offering her his arm as she stepped out. “Alright, let’s grab your coat and head out.”
“I don’t need a coat. It’s way too warm for that.”
“Not on my life, Nik. Because Kel will kill me, if he finds out.”
She sighed. “I really don’t need it.”
“Well, we’re taking it anyway. In case you do.”
“Fine, fine.” She had mostly given up arguing with him. Though she’d still lament the fact that she was not able to serve as she’d intended, putting the doctor’s recommendations into practice had affected such a change in her that she could not deny their wisdom. So she suffered through the indignity of being tended to and cared for, with the forbearance of a champ. Brek remembered how much he’d hated the fussing he’d endured over his ankle. He couldn’t imagine how painfully tedious her situation must be.
But he tried to make it better where he could. He visited every day before parliament convened, and was back as soon as it adjourned. Once or twice, he’d fallen asleep in the armchair beside her. Dr. Kel had offered him a room, but, so far anyway, he hadn’t taken him up on it.
Between sleeping in the recliner and keeping his hectic schedule, he was tired a lot these days. But being of use to Nik, seeing vitality return to her, more than made up for it. Even when the sessions dragged on like today’s had done, moments like these, walking arm in arm into the afternoon sun with Nikia, made it all worth it.
They took a few turns around the garden, and she sighed contentedly. Now and then, she’d stop to smell the flowers. Finally, they settled in the alcove by the fishpond. There was a pretty fountain here, and the burbling of its waters relaxed the final bit of tension from him. Small, colorful fish flitted by. These, Brek regarded with mixed appreciation and disgust. Ever since his time in the caves of Theta, and his meal of the grotesque cave fish he’d found there, he could not abide the creatures.
Still, these were nothing like that monster, with its pale, lumpy body and wide eyes, its gaping mouth and rows of razor-sharp teeth. These were small and brightly colored, with long, delicate fins and sleek bodies. And so, little by little, he found his abhorrence slipping away.
Nik had closed her eyes and reclined her head back in the sunlight. She was still holding his arm, and he watched her, smiling to himself. Her ease, her peace, was like a calming agent to him. It didn’t matter what happened in session: every time he returned to her, the day’s cares vanished.
He knew she had no intention of running for office again. Once the war was done, she would return to private life. She’d told him so many times. He regretted it, for the nation’s sake – there was no one whose opinion and judgment he esteemed more. He regretted it for his own, too. He did plan to stand for office again, to represent the people of Theta. He’d not made an absolute ass of himself in his early days, and he felt he could do more now that he had a better feel for things. He would miss her presence, though, in the House of Parliament. He would miss her wisdom in his deliberations. And though he was certain she’d still listen to his thoughts, he would have no reason to spend his waking hours with her anymore. He’d have no excuse to see her day after day.
He frowned at that. The peace would do her good. It was doing her good now, short-lived though it was. He should be glad for that, he knew.
But, somehow, the idea filled him with a kind of desolation, a sadness that he couldn’t entirely explain.
“Brek?” she said, and he started at the unexpectedness of her voice.
“Yes?”
“I was thinking of buying a place, when this is over. The war, I mean.”
“Oh.”
“With the compensation package we passed, I’ll have a little money from the Aldir estate. I could never live there. Not after…well, everything. So it’s as well it’s out of my hands now.”
He nodded. “Right.”
“And I can’t go back to my and Grel’s place.”
“Would you buy a home in the City, then?”
She glanced up at him. “I was thinking about going off-world.”
He felt his heart sink. “Off…world? You mean, leave Central?”
She nodded. “I’m not sure I want to stay here. I’m not sure I can.”
“But…your life is here,” he said. “What about your brother? What about…your friends?”
She watched him with tender eyes. “Div and I will never be right again. Not after everything that’s happened. I lov
e him, but…there’s too much between us. But I will miss Giya. And Doctor Kel.” She squeezed his arm. “And most of all, my favorite babysitter.”
He tried to smile, but the attempt came out very hollow. His tone, too, didn’t sound quite right to his ears. “I’ll miss you too.”
She studied him for a long moment. “I haven’t made up my mind, Brek. I’ve been thinking about it. That’s all.”
“You’ve got to do what’s right for you, and your little one. But…I hope that means staying, Nik. Central would seem a lot smaller, without you.”
She turned back to the horizon, and the daystar sinking low in the sky. “I didn’t used to think I could stay. I didn’t think I could rebuild. Not after everything.
“But now…now I’m not sure.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Doctor Kel found them still by the fishpond when he returned home. Brek had slung his arm around her in the interval, as she’d begun to shiver, even through her jacket. The medical man surveyed them with a curiosity that could not be missed, but said only, “Well, good to see you getting fresh air, Nik. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour.”
Then, he went back inside. “So does that mean we’re not in trouble?” Nik whispered with a half-giggle.
“I don’t know. We might get the lecture over dinner.”
“Or, you might,” she needled. “He’s been laying off me, I notice, and directing his wrath onto you when he thinks I’m not taking care of myself.”
He grinned. “True. But he’s just worried about you.” He turned affectionate eyes toward her. “And you are damned stubborn, Nikia Idan.”
She held his gaze, her own eyes a deep, warm green, and her tone teasing. “Minister, I’m shocked. Such language.”
They waited until the summons for dinner arrived, and then joined the Kels. The doctor had a few questions for Nik, about how she felt and how much sleep she’d been able to get, but otherwise the conversation veered away from medicine.