by Rachel Ford
Mrs. Kel was a quiet woman, who, once satisfied that her guests were comfortable, and having dispensed with the expected pleasantries, listened more than she spoke. She’d ask a question of him now and then, but it seemed more out of politeness than any real interest. She started with, “How was today’s session, Minister?” And as he explained the day, she followed up with, “Oh dear,” and, “How unfortunate,” and, “Well, that’s good at least.”
He was pretty sure he could have told her just about anything and elicited the same response. So he changed the topic. “Dinner is excellent tonight, as usual, Mrs. Kel.”
“Well, thank you – but you know I can take no credit for it. Our cook is the magician.”
“Speaking of magicians,” Nik put in, “I heard Gretchen Mira is dropping her bid for Supreme Leader. What kind of magic do you think Telari spun to make that happen?”
“You think Davis is behind it, then?” Brek wondered.
“Without a doubt,” Dr. Kel nodded. “Who else stands to benefit? Telari and Mira pull from the same base. If they both ran, they would have split the vote.”
Mrs. Kel sighed. “And then we might have ended up with someone like that Grilar, from Tau.” She shook her head. “The man’s a lunatic.”
Brek frowned. Grilar was a fringe candidate, with his calls for planetary expansion and disbanding of the military. But he’d never imagined him winning. “Grilar? He couldn’t win.”
“If the vote was divided enough,” Nik shrugged, “you never know. He’s a minority candidate, but from a significant minority.”
“So Mira getting out shores up Telari’s path to the palace,” Brek nodded.
“No doubt she’ll be well rewarded for her sacrifice,” Mrs. Kel snorted. “Some prime appointment. Secretary of Labor or Economics or something like that.”
He heard her cynicism with surprise. She rarely seemed interested in the business of governing, much less with such a vehemence as this. “You think so?”
“Isn’t that the way it usually works?”
“Not anymore, I hope,” Nik put in.
“And who is going to stop it?” She shook her head. “Not you, Nik. You’ll be out of parliament then. And none of the new ministers, I should think, either. They won’t want to alienate the Supreme Leader. Not over something so trivial. And so there we are: headed right back to the kind of politicking we started with.”
Dr. Kel cleared his throat, glancing significantly between his wife and Nik. “Well, I’m sure it’s not so dire as all that. But, tell me love, how was your sister today?”
She took his meaning, changing the topic with a sigh. “Well. She sends her love.”
Brek tried to focus, but he didn’t know the Kels’ in-laws from anyone, and the exploits of their children and nieces, nephews and grandchildren did not interest him. Nik seemed similarly distracted, for she sat in place, her brow creased, picking absently at her food.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low, “you alright?”
She nodded. “Yes. Just thinking.”
“About Mira?”
She nodded again.
“It may be nothing, Nik. She might have just felt like he had the better chance of winning.”
“She’s too ambitious to just walk away. It’s the same reason Telari’s still in. Neither of them wants to lose.”
“Maybe. But there’s nothing illegal about coming to an understanding.”
“No,” she agreed. “Still…it just doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like what we set out to do, the kind of transparent government we promised to build.”
“Ideals are goals, Nik. You set them high. But the truth is, you won’t always meet them. And it could be worse. She could have stayed in and split the vote.”
For a long moment, she was quiet. Then, abruptly, she said, “I don’t trust Telari, Brek. I fear what the Empire will become with him at the helm.”
He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. He settled for, “Oh.”
“I wish I could convince Giya to run.”
Now, Brek smiled. “And he wishes he could talk you into it.”
She pulled a face. “I know. He tells me often enough.”
He hesitated for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why won’t you consider it?”
“You know why. I’m done: done with politics.”
“Done with Central?” He didn’t mean for hurt to seep into his tone. He wasn’t even sure where it came from.
She blinked at him. “I…I don’t know. I told you, I don’t know yet.”
“I know.” He glanced down, at his plate full of foods that, a few months ago, he never would have dreamed of. A few months ago, sitting here in such quiet, comfortable luxury, he might have thought he’d died and went straight to paradise. But now? Now, he barely noticed any of it. “I just…”
“Just what?” she asked when he trailed off.
The truth was, he wasn’t sure how to respond. He glanced back up until his eyes met hers, and for a long moment, he held her gaze. She wasn’t his to lose. He knew that. But still, the idea of losing her…well, it filled him with a consternation he couldn’t quite define. “I’d sure as hell miss you, Nik.”
Her gaze was very tender, and he felt his heart hammer at the sight of the deep blue-greens of her eyes. He almost forgot that the Kels were there, still talking quietly among themselves. He forgot about his dinner. He forgot about everything.
Hell, he forgot to breathe. Something hit him in that moment, something he’d been guessing at for a long time but hadn’t fully acknowledged, not even to himself. And it took his breath away.
I love her.
She reached over and took his hand now. “Brek, I…I guess I want to get away. From everything that’s happened, from all the memories, from the plans that…well, will never happen. But the thing is, I know I can’t. Not really.”
She shook her head, and a sheen of moisture gathered in her eyes. “A new place won’t – can’t – change what is.” She squeezed his hand now. “This is my home. I haven’t felt home in a long time, and I guess I thought I never would again. But I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe…maybe I can.”
“You’ve got so many friends here. So many people who care about you. Who…who love you, Nik. Isn’t that what home is all about?”
She studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “I know. I guess…I guess I was being a coward. Looking for an easy way out. But – there is no easy way. Leaving will hurt just as much as staying.”
“Hey.” He pivoted, so he could wrap his other hand around hers. “You’re not a coward. You’re the bravest person I know, Nikia Idan. You’ve been through hell, and you’ve kept going. Even when it almost killed you, you kept at it. There’s not a cowardly bone in your body.”
She smiled at him, and started to speak, when a loud, piercing sound issued. She started, and so did he. So did the Kels, across the table from them. For half a second, Brek’s heart leaped into his mouth, until he registered the shrill tones.
It was a pager. Or, more accurately, it was both of their pagers – for his and Nik’s sounded at the same time. “Shit,” he said. Then, catching himself, “Sorry.”
“What’s going on?” Mrs. Kel wondered.
“I’m not sure.” Nik had reached into her pocket, and drew out the device. “It’s an alert, to all members of parliament.”
“An emergency session’s being convened,” Brek read. He glanced up at her. “We need to go, Nik.”
“Can’t Nik call in?” Dr. Kel wondered. “She’s supposed to be on bed rest.”
Brek nodded. “Yes. But we need to get called in. Now.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Drake Elgin glanced up as a shadow passed over the entry. Someone was stooping to enter their cave hideout. He wasn’t worried – there were sentries outside, and there’d been no sounds of commotion. Still, they were in hostile territory, with Lenksha’s men all over the pl
ace. It took half a moment for his eyes to adjust before he recognized Lt. Dagir, and only then did he relax the hold on his sidearm.
The TS-Supernova’s survivors had holed up here, in a network of caves a few kilometers from the beach where they’d first crashed.
“Captain,” Dagir greeted.
“Lieutenant,” he nodded. “Anything?”
“No sir. I’m not sure if my signal’s even getting through.” He’d seek out a new, high vantage every day, hoping to get a signal to any ship that might have come looking for them. So far, it had been nothing but wasted trips.
“It’s probably not,” he admitted. “But it beats not trying.”
The younger man nodded. “Beats sitting around in this cave, too.”
Here, Elgin gestured to his leg, and the makeshift splint tied around it. “Well, I haven’t got much choice in the matter.”
“No sir. It’s too bad. This world – it’s actually a fascinating place.”
He shivered. “I’ll take your word on that, Lieutenant.”
Dagir grinned. “Other than the radiation, I mean.”
“That still leaves everything else about it.”
The other man’s grin broadened. “That’s what I like. There’s so much life here that’s evolved to live with the radiation. Those trees-”
He held up a hand. He’d heard this before. Aside from being a hell of a fighter pilot, Dagir, apparently, was something of a naturalist. The plant and animal life he found here – when he wasn’t dodging bullets, anyway – fascinated him, and he could wax damn near poetic on the topic. But Elgin was in too much discomfort for poetry. “I know, I know. But come on. Help me with Kerel.” It was time to change her bandages, and for a new round of pain meds.
Now, Dagir’s features sobered. “How’s she doing?”
Elgin grimaced. “In and out, all morning. She’s practically delirious with pain. But she doesn’t complain.”
The younger man nodded, but said nothing. They’d lost three quarters of the crew in the initial impact, and they’d been slowly hemorrhaging men and women since. But despite – or maybe because of – that, Ensign Kerel’s decline was hard on them. Maybe it was her youth, and the fact that she was one of the junior officers onboard. Maybe it was her uncommon valor, that distinguished her even among so many heroes. Maybe it was her stiff-upper-lip attitude, despite all she’d suffered.
Elgin wasn’t sure. All he knew was, watching each day claim a little more of Kerel’s fighting spirit was torture to the men and women who survived.
It was a particular kind of torture to him. He was no stranger to losing those under his command. But Kerel had taken a shot meant for him. Kerel had been ready to fight on to the bitter end when he’d all but given up. By rights, it should be him, not her, dying. That would have been justice.
The universe didn’t give a damn about justice, though. He knew that. The gods, if they existed, didn’t give a damn about justice. No one gave a damn about justice but Tribari, and far too few of them at that...
So here they were, hiding out in a cave awaiting a death by radiation poisoning, hoping to avoid a death by their fellow men and women in uniform. Here they were, Kerel dying a little bit more, a day at a time, while he got stronger.
Here we bloody well are. Out loud, though, he said, “The pain’s getting worse, I think. She’s been crying in her sleep. We need to up her pain killer.”
Dagir was sifting through the med kit. He glanced up at this. “We’re not going to have enough, Captain.”
He didn’t elucidate, and he didn’t need to. He was referring for enough to last until the end; enough to ease their own misery as the end approached. Elgin nodded. “Give her mine.”
The younger man frowned. “You sure? That leg of yours is pretty smashed up. Without pain meds-”
“I know how pain works, Lieutenant.” He didn’t mean to be so sharp, but he didn’t want to belabor the point either. He knew he was signing himself up for hell. But it was the least he could do, all things considered. “And I’m sure.”
“Yessir.” Now, grabbing the last of what he needed from the kit, Dagir headed over and proffered a hand. “Ready?”
Elgin nodded. “Let’s get it over with.” With a grunt to mask the pain of movement, he pulled himself onto his unbroken foot. How the hell I’m going to do this without painkillers beats me.
Dagir helped him cross the space separating him and Kerel. It was only a few strides. Though the entrance to their cave was low, requiring visitors to stoop to enter, the interior was fairly spacious. It seemed to be a naturally occurring space, hollowed out of a porous rock that was – of course – red in color. Red, like everything else on this damned planet.
The ship’s medical staff had died in the impact and subsequent firefights. The doctoring was left, now, to the rest of the crew. They’d all had the basic training, of course, but it was hardly up to the demands of the injuries all around them. Burns, lacerations, shots, severed limbs: it was the stuff of nightmares. It was the stuff of battlefields. Only there was no relief coming to cart off the wounded to hospitals.
It was just them: Elgin and Dagir and a handful of others, tending to the broken and battered bodies of their crewmen. For his part, he made a point to visit them all at least once a day. He was the captain. He would make the rounds, no matter how damned much it hurt.
But he always started with Kerel, and today was no exception. She seemed to be sleeping, but as they approached, she opened her eyes. Flashing a wan smile, she said, “Captain. The convoy here to pick us up, then?”
“Another day,” he answered.
“Damned Central boys: always late.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” It was something of a running joke between them, ever since Dagir’s first expedition to call for help.
“It’s not time for my meds already?”
“And a bandage change,” the lieutenant put in.
She pulled a face. “Can’t you just shoot me, sir? I’d rather that, then have that maniac maul my shoulder again.”
“Careful, Ensign,” Dagir cautioned, adopting a faux warning tone. “I don’t care how much brown-nosing you did with the Captain here: I’m still the senior officer.”
“I’m already getting court-martialed,” she scoffed. “How much worse can it get?”
“She’s got a point,” Elgin nodded. “I warned her not to do anything heroic. So, once we get back, she’s up on charges of disobeying a direct order.”
“See? You have it from the Captain himself: I’ve got carte blanche to say what I want.”
“I didn’t say that, exactly.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“Must have damaged her head when we landed,” Dagir nodded sagely. His hands, meanwhile, were working deftly, stripping away the layers of bandages while he kept up the banter. “Brain damage might explain that sense of humor.”
“Ouch.” She winced. “Might explain your lack of coordination, you mean.”
He glanced up, breaking now from the back-and-forth. “Sorry, Ker.”
She grinned, mastering the pain with a visible effort. “Barely felt a thing.”
“That’s probably the brain damage,” Elgin declared. “Interfering with your pain receptors.”
“Eh, go to hell.”
“Ensign.” He affected a reprimanding tone.
“Sir. Go to hell, sir.”
“That’s better, then.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Dagir had changed Kerel’s bandage, sterilizing the wound. His expression was grim, though, and both Elgin and the ensign picked up on it. “Well?” she asked. “Spit it out, dammit, Dagir. What’s wrong?”
He glanced at Elgin, who nodded in turn. Whatever it was, Kerel had a right to know. The lieutenant sighed. “It’s not healing, Ker. I…I think the site of impact is necrotizing.”
“You mean…?”
“I think the arm is dying. The tissue above the elbow is…well, it doesn’t look like
an infection. But it’s not healthy. And it’s getting worse.”
She considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Well fuck.”
“What can we do?” Elgin wondered.
Dagir shook his head. “I’m a pilot, Captain, not a doctor. I don’t know what to do.”
Elgin’s brow creased, and for a moment they remained in silence. Then Kerel said, “Yeah you do. The arm’s got to go.”
He blinked, now. “What?”
“If it’s dying…it will get infected. And it will spread, to the rest of my body.” She gulped in a breath. “The arm’s got to go. And since I can’t do it…well, one of you two is going to have to.”
Dagir passed a hand through his hair. “Shit, Ker. We don’t have anesthesia.”
She nodded slowly. “I know, L-T. I…I was afraid it would come to this, when it wasn’t healing. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. But…what else can we do?”
“Look,” Elgin put in, “we’ve got painkillers. If we upped the dosage, would that…?”
But Dagir shook his head. “Too much will kill you. But not put you under for a bit.”
“There’s nothing for it, Captain. It’ll hurt, but I’ll be fine.” She flashed him a smile, but the pale blues of her eyes belied her attempt at confidence.
Dagir looked like he might be sick. “Ker, I…I can’t do it. I can’t.”
“If you don’t, I’ll die.”
Elgin glanced at his lieutenant now. “I can’t do it, Dagir. Not with my leg. It needs to be precise, quick. It can’t be done by a cripple.”
Dagir shook his head though. “I…can’t do that to you, Ker.”
She reached up with her good hand and caught his. “Is it better to let me die?”
“Of course not. I just…” He seemed at a loss for words. His eyes were watering. For a long moment, they were all silent.
“Please, L-T. I don’t want to die like this, rotting away. Let me die with my boots on.”
He nodded slowly, and squeezed her hand. “Alright. I’ll-I’ll do it.”
“Wait a minute,” Elgin said, sitting upright as an idea flashed into his head. The movement was too quick, and it made him wince in pain. But he ignored it. “Just because our medbay was ruined, that doesn’t mean there’s not a medbay out there still intact, or intact enough to have supplies. There’s dozens of ships out there. Dozens of wrecks we can comb through.”