by Rachel Ford
Dagir’s eyes lit up. “We can get anesthesia.”
“And more painkillers. Gods know, Kerel’s going to need ‘em. And not just her, all of us as the days pass.”
“We need more sterilizing agents too, and bandages.”
“But Lenksha’s men are still out there,” Kerel protested. “You could get killed.”
Dagir, though, waved this away. “I’ll take a few men. We’ll wait until dark, get what we need, and get back here.”
“And if you get shot?”
“We won’t,” he said. “But just in case, I’ll find someone, someone I trust to – well, to take over the surgery, if we don’t get back.”
Kerel hesitated. “I don’t want you to die trying to help me, L-T.”
“I won’t, Ker. Anyway, it’s not just you. Like the captain says, we’re all going to need those supplies. You might need ‘em first, but anything we bring back is going to save all our asses.”
Elgin nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do. Get your team together, Dagir. Get some food and sleep. I want you ready when the sun goes down.”
“Yessir.” He flashed the ensign a smile. “And don’t worry about me, kid. I’ll be back. I’m not going to miss your court martial, after all.”
“Octavia,” Tig offered. “Octavia Orson. I like the sound of that.”
Nees pulled a face. “Octavia? Is she some kind of exotic flower, or a person?”
He grinned at her. “You know, you don’t make this any easier. You’ve rejected every single name I’ve come up with.”
She smiled too, and pecked him on the lips. “That, my love, is because you have terrible taste.”
“Really?” He arched an eyebrow. “A strange thing to tell the man who married you.”
“On the contrary,” she murmured, “that exemplifies my point. Terrible taste. Just awful.”
He kissed her in turn, his eyes turning an amorous amber that seemed to warm her very soul. “What do you say we forget about names for now, Ari?”
“Oh?” she teased. “You think I should get back to work, then?”
His grin broadened, and he got to his feet, scooping her up in his arms. Nees laughed as he murmured, “Like hell.”
They moved toward the bedroom, Tig letting his kisses and touches do the talking now. She wasn’t one for love sonnets, but his touch could write symphonies on her skin and in her heart. And she was more than happy to surrender to the music. “Gods, Tig,” she breathed.
It was now, at that precise moment, when the door opened and Tal Imari strode into the room with a hurried step. He drew up short about two paces in. “Shit.” Then, blushing profusely, he turned away. “Uh, sorry, Governor. I didn’t realize…that is…”
She felt her own cheeks flush, but smoothing her now ruffled clothes, stepped out of Tig’s arms, she cleared her throat. She was intent on ignoring the awkwardness. “Is something up?”
Tig, meanwhile, sighed, “Hell, Tal, can’t you knock?”
Tal threw him an annoyed glance, but addressed the governor’s question with, “The fleet, ma’am: Lenksha’s fleet. It’s been destroyed.”
“Destroyed?” Nees blinked. “How?”
“That friend of yours, Captain Elgin? He found it, in the Wastes. I’m not sure exactly how, but he destroyed it.”
“How do you know?”
“We just got a dispatch from Central. A few fighters made it back. They’re requesting aid. I guess there were survivors.”
Nees, now, took a seat. She was stunned. “All of Lenksha’s ships? How is that even possible?”
“I’m not sure, ma’am. Parliament’s in session now. We’ll learn more soon, I should think.”
Now, she laughed out loud. “Son-of-a-bitch. That crazy bastard did it.”
Tal regarded her curiously. “Governor?”
“Elgin. If anyone could end the war in one engagement…well, I guess it would be him.”
Tig, meanwhile, put a hand on her shoulder. “Then…you think the war’s actually over?”
“With Lenksha’s fleet gone, yes. Even if a few ships escaped, the war itself? It’s done.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Parliament had been in session all night. It was sometime in the morning now, though Brek wasn’t sure of the hour.
The war was over. Admiral Lenksha was dead. One of the captains – Nik’s friend, Drake Elgin – had found the enemy fleet, and taken it out in a suicide run. Even more miraculously, there were survivors.
They’d gone back and forth on how they could be sure this was a real report, and not an attempt to lure their own fleet into dangerous territory. Echo Nine was well in the Wastes, out of reliable comm range. The radiation more than the distance meant there’d be no way to confirm the story this handful of pilots told.
Captains Mercer and Rel bristled that their officers’ integrity and loyalty was called into question. Davis Telari and his faction of parliament bristled when the ministers’ judgement was impugned.
Nik, meanwhile, tried, and failed, to ascertain the status of Captain Elgin. The surviving pilots had no idea of his situation. They’d been ordered back home by their squad leader, a Lieutenant Dagir. If the captain lived or died in the impact, they could not say.
Nik’s brow had creased at that, and seemed only to crease further as the session progressed, as the ministers and military personnel argued. Even when the rescue mission was at last sanctioned, she didn’t relax.
The hours wasted away, and her pallor grew as the time passed. Trapper’s Colony radioed in, offering any support they could. “Our ships are on standby,” Governor Nees said. “We can divert them for medical transport. Just send the word.”
“How friendly winning the war has made Governor Nees,” Gretchen Mira declared dryly, once the line closed.
Davis smiled, and Nik frowned. “Captain Elgin is a friend of the governor’s, Minister. She’s a decorated veteran. I’m certain she has no ulterior motive in offering to aid our wounded.”
“Of course, Minister Idan,” Mira said. “Your insights are, as always, indispensable.”
Brek bristled at the dismissiveness in her tones, and Nik colored a little. Business moved on.
Eventually, a few hours after noon, the session concluded. Nikia was exhausted, and Doctor Kel was annoyed. “You need to sleep, Nikia. Your blood pressure is elevated. Again. And Minister Trigan, you should have let me know she was looking so pale.”
“Leave Brek out of it, Doctor. Stop blaming him for my decisions.” Nik’s tone was soft and tired, and it troubled him. It troubled the doctor, too, by the look of the glare he directed Brek’s way.
Still, Kel said no more on the topic. “Well, some rest is what you need, Nik. I’m sure you’ll be right as rain afterward.” Now, casually, he added, “And you, Minister, should probably take your leave.”
Brek frowned, and Nikia glanced up. “No.”
“What?”
“Would you…would you mind staying, Brek? I’m not sure I can sleep right away.” She hesitated. “Unless you’re too tired.”
“Of course not, Nik. I’ll stay.”
Kel harrumphed quietly, but said only, “Brek can stay, but I’ll give you something to help you sleep.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
His expression softening, Kel said, “Of course, Nik.”
She was changed and tucked in in a few minutes. Dr. Kel gave her her last dose of medicine for the day, and called Brek. “Don’t keep her awake, Minister.”
“I won’t, Doctor.”
“Good.”
She smiled as he entered her room. “Hey,” she said, “I hope you didn’t get another lecture?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Just a warning, to let you sleep.”
She laughed. “Well, that’s an improvement, I guess.”
He took up his customary seat beside her bed, but he didn’t feel light-hearted. “Nik?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you alright?”
&nb
sp; “Ohh,” she groaned, shoving his knee playfully. “Not you too.”
“Hey,” he said, catching her hand. “I’m serious. I’m worried about you, you know. So is Kel.”
She glanced at her hand in his, and swallowed back whatever response she’d been about to make. Her tone was less irreverent, and soberer, when she spoke again. “I know, Brek. The truth is, I’m…I’m worried too.”
“You are?” His brow creased. “What do you mean?”
She studied his hand for a long moment, then met his gaze. “During session, today? I-I thought I was going to pass out, so many times.”
He groaned. “Oh, Nik, why didn’t you say something?”
“I…I’m afraid, Brek.” Her voice was very small and frightened, but it carried a terrible punch. It hit him between the ribs, with enough force to knock the air out of him. “I feel so…weak. So spent. Like I have no more fight left. And…” She twined her fingers in his. “I’m not sure, if I go to sleep tonight, I’m ever going to wake up.”
“Oh Gods, Nik.” He stared at her, too stunned by this revelation to know what to say or do or even think.
She squeezed his hand. “It’s probably nothing. Kel didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, other than my blood pressure. And that’s always elevated lately.” She smiled. “I’ll probably be just fine in the morning – fine, and feeling a little silly for having said this at all.”
“We should tell Kel,” he declared, his mind clearing a little now. “He needs to know.”
“Know what? That I don’t feel well? He knows that already.”
“That you think you’re dying.”
She shook her head. “It’s probably nothing. He checked my vitals. He didn’t see anything off. And if I tell him that – he’s going to insist on taking me to the clinic, and performing a hundred tests…I’ll never get to sleep. And that’s what I really need, I think. It’s probably nothing more than that.”
“And if it’s not?” He could barely get the words out.
She considered them for a moment. “Will you stay with me, Brek? Tonight, I mean?”
“Of course.”
“Even when I’m asleep?”
“Always, Nik. As long as you need me, I’ll be here.”
The deep greens of her eyes watered a little at his words, and she smiled. “Thank you. I don’t – I don’t want to be alone. Just in case.”
“You won’t be. I’ll be here the whole time.” Now, he brought his other hand up, sandwiching hers between his palms. It felt impossibly tiny and frail. “You’ve got to promise me: if you start feeling off, even a little, you will tell me.”
She nodded, smiling at him. “If it will wipe that frown off your face.”
“Promise me,” he persisted, trying to keep his tone steady.
“I promise.”
“Alright,” he nodded. “Then goodnight, my Nik.”
She blinked at his choice of words, but said in a moment, “Goodnight, my Brek.”
She fell asleep shortly thereafter, but Brek was far too agitated to sleep. He still held her hand. She’d made no move to pull it away, and so he’d held onto it even after she’d drifted off. He stared at it in the dimness, at her fingers laced between his. He was in love with her. He wondered that he hadn’t seen it before. It had been obvious, hadn’t it?
And she? Well, he wasn’t sure. Her words, and the tenderness in her eyes as she’d spoken them, played out in his memory. My Brek. He wanted to believe that she meant them, in all their implications, in the way that he did. But they were just two words: two, simple words, spoken by someone who was exhausted and overwrought, and might have had no idea the impact they’d have, the havoc they’d wreak, on his thoughts.
But he didn’t believe that. He couldn’t. He’d seen the tenderness in her eyes. Here was her hand, still in his. She’d been the one to wrap her fingers around his, hadn’t she?
Brek had never been in love before. He had no reference, nothing to contrast her affection with. He had no disappointments to moderate the fire in his own heart.
He loved her, with all the passion and tenderness and fealty of a first love. And as the night wore on, and he eventually succumbed to sleep’s call, he dreamt of brighter tomorrows, with all the untarnished hope of a heart that had never been broken, with all the unsullied earnestness of a man who had never known disappointment.
Chapter Forty
Nik stirred slowly. Her breathing was shallow, and her heart raced. She had a sense, vague and uneasy – a sense of something being wrong. She was aware first that the room was dark. It’s still night, then.
Next, she felt Brek’s hands around hers. He stayed. That, at least, relaxed some of the tension in her chest. Still, she could feel that something was wrong. “Brek?” she whispered.
He stirred, murmuring sleepily, “Nik?”
“Brek,” she said again. “Something’s wrong.”
He was awake now. “Nik?” His tones were urgent. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Something’s wrong.”
“Let me get the light.” His hand released hers, and she went to sit up. It was hard, sometimes, just to move.
As she’d grown larger with the pregnancy, all the things she’d taken for granted, the free and easy mobility of a young and healthy woman, diminished too. So she used her hands to hoist herself upward to a sitting position.
She made it about half way up when pain, sharp, stabbing pain, shot through her abdomen. The light came on just as she loosed a cry of alarm.
“Oh gods,” Brek said, his voice cracking. “Nik!”
She gaped with the same horror she heard in his voice. Her sheets, the blanket, her lower body – they were all stained blue with blood.
He took her hands in his, saying, “I need to get the doctor. I’ll be right back.”
She was too dazed to respond. Instead, gingerly, she pulled back the blankets. She blinked at the sight. She’d only seen so much blood twice, once the day of her husband’s funeral, the day the revolution started; and in the House of Parliament, when their band of rebels had been ambushed by Protectors.
She brought a hand to the soaked sheets, and stared with a kind of numb horror at the blood covering her fingers. Then, a spasm of pain seized her, and she clutched her abdomen. Oh Mer, I don’t want to die like this. She wasn’t sure if her mother could hear her, but in the moment, her thoughts turned to the woman who had brought her into the world. They’d never discussed this, not really. They’d never talked in depth about childbirth, and what might go wrong. They’d never talked about terror and pain.
The stabbing sensation renewed, and Nik clutched her side, tears welling in her eyes. It was too early to be giving birth, and she could feel the same weakness, the same sense of drowning on dry land, that she’d felt last night. She was losing the baby. She was dying.
She knew it before Dr. Kel stepped a foot into her room. She knew it as he took her pulse, and put on his best calming, professional façade. “We need to get you to the clinic now, Nik. Brek, will you help me get her to the car?”
Brek didn’t just help, though. He knelt beside her, and fixed her with a look of such tender concern that, even through the spasms of agony, she could not miss it. “Hold on, Nik. Please.” Then, as gentle as if he was handling some precious artifact, he lifted her, and carried her to the vehicle.
He walked quickly, and Dr. Kel, slipping an overcoat over his pajamas, struggled to keep up. “I’m afraid, Brek,” she whispered.
“Hang on, my Nik. Please hang on.”
The trip to the clinic was short. The streets, at this late hour – or was it early? – were all but deserted. Still, it seemed to run on forever. The pain was getting worse, increasing in frequency. She was bleeding more, too. Brek held her to him, and she could feel him shudder with every cry of pain that escaped her lips.
Her focus dimmed, and her head got lighter. Brek seemed to realize it, because he would call her back to the moment as she slipped. �
��Nik, talk to me.”
“Huh?”
“We’re almost there.”
Dr. Kel, meanwhile, was phoning his staff, calling in emergency nurses. “We’ll get started without them,” he decided. “But they’ll be there soon.”
Nik wasn’t sure what he meant to do. He might have told her. She couldn’t remember. “Brek?”
“I’m here, Nik.”
“I’m scared.”
He pressed his cheek against the crown of her head in a kind of hug. “You’re going to be alright. I promise you.”
Finally, they arrived, and Dr. Kel unlocked the facility. Brek carried her in, back to one of the patient rooms. Nik remembered this place too well. She’d been coming here since she was a child, but it was Grel’s time here that flooded her memories now. Dr. Kel had treated her husband, had put his battered body back together after the protectors swarmed their house.
Grel. Oh Grel. Now it was her turn. Now, losing Grel’s child, she was the one rushed here, bleeding.
She glanced up at the serious face of the man carrying her, at the pain and fear in his eyes. Her head was anything but clear right now, and she was in too much pain to sort her thoughts, much less her emotions. But she recognized the expression. She might have been looking into a mirror, seeing a reflection of herself in this same place, so many long months ago, when Grel was taken here. She saw the same fear, the same pain, the same…
Pain tore through her, and she cried out. Brek picked up his pace, whispering, “Oh gods, hold on, Nik.”
The halls blurred, and in a moment she found herself blinking into a bright light. They were in a private room. She was on a patient bed. Dr. Kel moved around them with an almost supernatural speed. Brek held her hand in his, caressing the back of it with a thumb. “Hang on.”
“Brek, you’re bleeding,” she said, confused and alarmed by the sight. He was covered in blood.