by Eric Flint
Francisco joined her near the center of the forward port. Her omni and his pinged at nearly the same time, and they saw, outlined in blue, a familiar near-amorphous something drawing itself slowly out of the water. “Stupid things,” Francisco murmured. “You want to get that one?”
Hitomi nodded. Drawing her little pistol, she sighted carefully with the help of her omni and fired three times. The little coughing sound of the SurvivalShot Mini echoed loudly in the near-silence of Lincoln’s ocean, and the raylamp slid limply from the hull, blown nearly in half.
“Let’s just hope that doesn’t attract more,” Mommy said.
“It might, but the kids don’t have much choice,” the sergeant said. “Can’t let those things get near them.”
After a few more minutes, they were able to go back and check the debonded areas. There was just a film of whitish material left, which scraped off easily with the help of her Shapetool. That left a clean, white surface with just a hint of linear structure in it—the carbonan composite that made up a lot of the hull. “It’s ready, I think!”
“Good. Let me look.” Francisco came over, took a quick glance, and nodded. “Si, exactly what it should look like. You put the debonder on really good; I had to do it twice the first few times I did it.”
“Thanks!” She smiled at him. “So now we can bond the omnis on?”
“Should work fine now. And since we’re above water the control box will work for both of us.”
Since they’d used the universal adhesive in far more difficult circumstances, it wasn’t more than a few minutes before Hitomi triggered the second bonding phase for both. A short time later, the bonds were as hard and rigid as the composite below them. “Tavana, the omnis are in place! Test them?”
A moment later, an image of the water before Emerald Maui—with maybe a tiny piece of her head visible—flashed onto their omni retinal displays. “They work perfect! We have good binocular vision and side peripheral imaging, too. The vision app is calibrating now. Just put one on the tail and we’ll be set!”
“Right!”
They had to pause on the way to the rear to let the Raylamp Detector get a good look around the other parts of the ship, and again when it found one toward the rear. That dealt with (by Francisco, this time), Hitomi found that she and Francisco could easily place the third omni; it took even less time than the ones in front. “All set!”
“Hold on…yes, yes, the rear camera, it is also working! Emerald Maui has eyes again!”
There was a low cheer from everyone.
“All right, kids,” Sergeant Campbell’s voice, deep and rough and reassuring, spoke. “Everything’s finally ready. Hitomi, Francisco, you’ve done absolutely professional work, kids, handled every problem you ran into, and we’re all as proud as can be. You give each other a big hug and a high-five, right?”
She laughed and embraced Francisco, who squeezed her so hard she gasped, and then the two of them slapped hands.
“Damn right. Now get yourselves inside and strapped in.”
Just like an hour or so before, Hitomi slid into her seat and fastened the harness, making sure it was tight as it should be. She saw Francisco check hers as she took a look at his.
The display on the inside of the port suddenly lit up, and it was as though the port was now crystal clear; a full-3D image of the water ahead, illuminated by the full brightness of Emerald Maui’s forward lights, sparkled darkly before them. “Display working, kids?”
“Working perfectly, sir!”
“Good. Tavana?”
“Cross fingers, everyone.”
The pilot’s board lit up—many yellows and reds from the areas that were damaged, but a core of bright green was there was well. The deep drone of the jet rose up, and she felt movement. Emerald Maui was moving!
“We’re moving!” she shouted, and heard Francisco echoing her at the same time.
“You are, Hitomi, Franky!” Tavana said, his voice as excited as theirs; Francisco didn’t complain about the use of his nickname, which showed how excited he was. The water rumbled beneath the hull, and she felt the bump-bump-bump as Emerald Maui began to really cruise, hammering smoothly through the waves. “Up to…twenty kilometers per hour!”
“Probably as fast as we want to go right now,” Xander said. “Any faster and even the automated anti-collision apps won’t be able to react fast enough; the headlights can only reach so far ahead. Plus we need to go easy on her for a bit to make sure everything’s okay.”
“But it all looks good now,” Pearce said. “No sign of significant strain from the engine or hull or the outrigger or tail. Hitomi, Francisco—you’re coming home!”
Chapter 36
Light flowed slowly into him like water softening an annitil core, and with it came coolness…and the return of pain, sharp, dull, throbbing, grating, every form of agony he had ever imagined.
But Whips grabbed onto that pain, let it sharpen his awareness. I hurt. That means I’m awake. It means I’m alive, and they woke me up for something.
He didn’t try to open his eyes yet; his mind was still sluggish, wrapped in murk and muck, clouding his thoughts and comprehension. I…I think I’m still bad hurt. It doesn’t feel like after an operation.
Okay, that made sense. He felt he’d gotten that right. But he also remembered Laura putting him to sleep. So there were only two reasons he’d be awake.
For a moment his brain stalled on that. He knew there were two reasons, but it was several seconds before he managed to remember them. The first would be if they’d made it home. The second…the second would be if there was something badly wrong that needed him to help the kids, hurt or not.
With a tremendous effort he deliberately moved his worst-injured arm, making the cracked plates within grate against each other. The electric-hot jolt of protest from his body sharpened his wits and perceptions. He forced his uninjured eye open.
Even hurt as he ways, the well-loved faces in front of him sent a warm wave of relief and triumph through Whips. Deep chestnut hair glinting with red highlights above worried brown eyes, and to the right worried blue eyes below a cascade of pure abyssal black. “L…Laura,” he managed, hearing his voice buzzing and weak. “Saki…we made it.”
“Whips, oh, thank God yes, yes, you did,” Laura said, her voice near to breaking. Sakura just blinked hard, two tears falling, and nodded;
“Why…am I…awake?”
“I’m about to operate on you, Harratrer,” Laura said, her voice back under control. “And…and I honestly don’t know if you’ll survive.”
He had known that for a while. If he thought about it, his nanos would tell him just how badly he was hurt and give him dispassionate projections for how likely he was to survive. The percentages…were not good. Very bad.
“So,” Sakura said, her voice forced-steady and not fooling anyone, “We wanted you to know everything else was okay, before…”
He flicked his upper arm in understanding, let the chromatophores flicker the pattern of gratitude. “You mean, know that Hitomi and Francisco would be all right, that…that all of you were…”
She nodded.
Hitomi and Francisco appeared; from their positions, he realized he must be lying on some kind of smooth surface that was at ground level, because they were taller than him right now. Saki and Laura stood, towering over him, and stepped back.
Hitomi reached out and hugged him. That didn’t hurt too much, because the little girl was being careful to touch him in the least-injured areas. “We’re all right!” she said, and Francisco added his own, slightly-more-painful, hug. “Si, we are. All together. All safe. Thanks to you making sure Emerald Maui would work for us.”
Relief flooded through him, finally, erasing for a few moments some of the agony. “Good. Good. That makes me very happy, Hitomi…Francisco.”
The other Kimeis came forward and touched him gently. “We’re all here, Whips,” Akira said. “Laura’s going to take care of you now.”
/> “Yes, I am, with the help of Pearce, who’s the closest I’ve got to a medical assistant. Now everyone’s going to have to clear the area. I have to sterilize everything as much as I can, and that means no one tramping around in the operating theater.”
Whips looked around as much as he could. He was one some kind of smooth flat surface…base of a column? Has to be. It’s like the bottom of Campbell’s column. But the light was diffuse, coming through…a shelter. They put a shelter up. Cover this area, keep it clean. I guess that is the best you could do for this.
He couldn’t let Laura put him to sleep, not yet. “Wait. Need to talk…to Saki. Alone.”
“Whips, we don’t have…” Laura stopped, probably seeing the sharp black-green-white of determination rippling across his back. “Make it quick, Saki. The longer we wait…”
“I know.”
In a few moments, the shelter was empty. Sakura took some of his good fingers into her hand, twined her so-stubby human fingers around them. He looked at her, so different from his people—so thin that she ought to break at the smallest current, a ridiculous fringe of useless fluff on her head (why, it can’t even strain out food from a current), a mere two manipulative arms with only five fingers, and that strange skeleton, divided in huge, non-flexing chunks. And inside he felt a wistful burning ache that had nothing to do with his injuries.
“What is it, Whips?”
“We…haven’t had much time…lately,” he said, and it was harder to speak now. But the tension and pain that made it so wasn’t in his body.
“No…I’m sorry, Whips, I…I mean…me and Tavana…I shouldn’t have…”
“Don’t apologize. I just…” He drew in a deep breath, ignoring the sparks of tearing fire throughout the length of his body as he did. “…just wanted to…say I wished I was human. Or you were Bemmie.”
Her eyes widened.
“Stupid, isn’t it? But…you were always there. We lived with you. I guess I just never…thought there’d be a day you weren’t there, dragging me wherever you went, Saki.”
“Stop it!” Her whisper had the force of an angry shout. “You’re not giving me this…this…bullcrap deathbed confession stuff from one of Caroline’s romance chips!” But her eyes were so full of tears he didn’t think she could see him.
“Said it was stupid. I know.” He pulled in another breath. “But…I realized I was jealous of Tav. And I…just couldn’t die without telling you…how important you are. Everything about you, Saki. Just…that. Always were. Always will be.”
“Dammit. Dammit.” She repeated the word three more times. “I ought to kick you, Whips, you…Doing this to me now.” She wiped her eyes roughly on the back of her arm. “I feel the same way, and you damn well know it.” She leaned over and planted a kiss right next to his eye. “And…I should’ve thought about that. Just because me and Tavana are…well…dating, doesn’t mean I should be forgetting about you, especially when…well…you’ve only got us. I’ll try to do better.”
A great warmth spread through him, and he saw her smile as a momentary pattern of peace and joy flashed across his body. “Then…it’s all fine. I love you, Saki.”
A tender, exquisitely gentle hug. “I love you too, Whips. Now…get better so I can give you that kick later.”
Despite the pain he gave a hooting laugh. “I’ll try.”
Sakura stepped outside. A few moments later, Laura came back in, carrying her medical case, followed by Pearce. Both of them were wearing masks.
“Here,” Laura said, “we tinkered this filter up for you. Breathe only through this for the next few minutes.”
The two women swabbed the area thoroughly with something—he thought it was alcohol or some similar material—and sprayed something across him that stung, but not as badly as he had feared. Or maybe I’m fading out again.
Vaguely, he heard the built-in shelter ventilation running at high. That’ll drain the batteries fairly fast…but if there’s enough sunlight…his brain took a momentary, distracted excursion into power calculations before his eyes refocused on Laura, sitting down in front of him.
“All right, Whips. Time to start.”
“Mom…will I be all right?”
Her lips tightened, barely visible beneath the mask. “I…don’t know. But I’ll do my best.”
“Okay. Love you all, Mom.”
“Love you too, Harratrer. Now sleep. If everything goes well, you’ll close your eye and wake up better.”
The nanosleep rose up, warm and comforting, erasing pain and worry, and Whips let it wash up and obliterate his consciousness.
Chapter 37
Laura’s hand shook. She stared at it in a sort of disbelieving fascination. I’ve done a lot of operations over the years. Not as many as I would have had to do a couple centuries back, but quite a few. What’s wrong with me?
Even as she thought the question, Pearce’s gloved hand covered hers. “It’s all right, Doc. You’ve got this.”
And she already knew the answer. “It’s…he’s my son. My only son. Does that sound ridiculous or what?”
Pearce Haley shook her head. “No, why should it? He calls you Mom, and not as a joke.”
Please, whoever and whatever might be out there, help me do this. “A mother…a doctor should never have to operate on their own children. Pearce, I’m terrified. What if Whips dies while I’m working on him?”
She saw by Pearce’s wide eyes that she had, at least, successfully hidden her doubts and fears until now. “Jesus, Laura, I…” She paused. “Laura, I guess it has to be frightening. But who else, Laura? Is there anyone else here who could even try this…gauntlet of operations?”
Laura closed her eyes. Of course there isn’t. There isn’t anyone within ten light-years who could. “No.” She drew in her breath, let it out. Her hand steadied. “No, there isn’t, and if I don’t, he’s going to die.”
He might die even if she did do the very best she could. The thought of that—of having to face Sakura and the others after losing him—was horrifying. But it would be far more horrifying to lose him from doing nothing.
“All right. Pearce, you’re my nurse and assistant. Most of what you do here will be to monitor vitals, adjust nanosleep and IV’s, and support my work. Is there anything you need before we start? Bathroom break? Quick bite to eat? Once we start we’re not stopping and this will take hours.”
“Already did that. I’m ready, Doctor.”
“All right. Sergeant, Akira, Xander, we are beginning. Unless another meteor hits, or something else that disastrous is on the way, nothing interrupts us, understand?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the sergeant said, and the others echoed their agreement. “We’ll keep everyone away. Not like there isn’t plenty to do to keep us busy.”
“Thank you.” Another deep breath. “Let’s begin.”
She looked again through her omni-enhanced vision at the HUD display it was generating that highlighted all the injuries on Harratrer’s body. The Sutter Organ, oxygen-exchange manifold, and McCoy’s Plexus were highlighted in red, by far the most critical injuries. In bright orange were all the other severe injuries—broken plates, ripped tendons, eyes, and two other significant circulatory leaks. Dear Lord, it’s absolutely incredible that he could move as much as he did. That much damage to the nodal plexus was probably interfering with nerve transmission.
“What first, Doctor?”
“Sutter Organ,” she said after a moment. “Circulation through it is damaged and nanorepair can’t function with it torn as it is. If we fix that, we reduce internal bleeding and increase his body’s ability to cope. Then…McCoy’s Plexus. It’s another internal bleeding site and is impeding his body’s ability to adjust to conditions; he’s not getting all the environmental feedback he should.”
“I’d have thought the oxygen manifold would be first.”
“I have to leave that one for last, honestly,” she said with great reluctance. “It’s by far the most delicate operation
, given the way the manifold works, and the blood flow through it is so concentrated…I will have to cut that flow off during the operation, which means no oxygen for however long I’m operating and however long it takes me to restore the oxygen to him.”
“Oh, no.” Pearce paused. “Any way to introduce supplemental oxygen to his system beforehand?”
“That’s what that IV bladder, the black-marked one, is for. I nanoadapted it from human blood oxygen supplements and I think it should work. If it does it gives him an additional hour, maybe. Which should be enough. We’ll start dripping that in once I’m done with all the internal bleeding. With luck we’ll have him effectively supercharged.”
She nodded, looking down, seeing the overlay of the layers of skin, insulating fat, muscle, bone…“Scalpel.”
With absolute focus, she began to cut into her son.
The Sutter Organ had split from multiple impacts, tearing slowly; its normal hourglass-shape was badly distorted, its brown-black interior exposed with deep fissures that ran more than halfway into it. She began her narration of the operation, a habit drilled into her years ago. “A stress laceration has torn open the primary inlet filtration artery. Secondaries above this point remain intact—which explains why he isn’t quite dead. This has maintained about twenty percent of function in the organ, but it can’t be sustained long. The artery laceration is at the deepest point of the main fissure. Subsidiary veins and arteries all severed to depth. Split areas must be rejoined as internals are restored or stress from split will reopen injuries. Beginning repair.”
Laura bit her lip inside the mask. She couldn’t just coat the entire interior of the split areas with fleshbond, tempting though that approach was. Fleshbond might not be cyanoacrylate, but it would still form a barrier and possibly even with nanorepair leave scarring along the entire seam, which would drastically reduce the operation of the Organ; it acted as a complex filter and secretion mechanism and relied on the free and active flow throughout its volume. “Best approach I can see given my limited equipment and knowledge is to use a combination of dissolving sutures with fleshbond at strategic locations.”