Paragon

by Autumn Kalquist

  “I’m dying. I don’t give a kak.”

  “I’m sure the president will.”

  “Perhaps you ought to interview her, then. Especially if you’re looking for terrorists.”

  “Now, you’re speaking treason.” Tadeo worked his jaw and glanced toward the thin curtain barrier between Medic Faust’s bed and the next. Fuck. His damn handheld had recorded all of this, including her accusations of his own mother being a traitor. He twisted his wrist to shut it off.

  Nora watched him do it, and a slight smile spread on her lips, as if she dared him to hand the recording over to Chief now.

  Tadeo’s comcuff buzzed. He shot Nora a threatening glare and answered it. “What?”

  “We found something,” Omar said. “You gotta get down here, now.”

  “I’ll comm you right back.”

  Tadeo switched off his cuff and pointed at Medic Faust. “You are obstructing an ongoing investigation. I’m not done with you yet.”

  She glared back at him without responding, and he shoved aside the curtain and strode out of the medbay, his mind racing. Nora Faust seemed to hate his mother and the president, but it was hard to believe this dying medic could have worked here her whole life and suddenly become involved with terrorists.

  Still, she was hiding something. And she could spend some time in the brig until she decided to tell him what Tatiana and Era had said during their visits.

  As he made his way down medlevel’s corridors toward the main stairwell, he commed the brig.

  “Lieutenant Raines here. Please send two guards to medlevel immediately to transfer Nora Faust to the brig.”

  “Where is the colonist, sir?”

  “Medbay D, Bed 124.”

  “Sir… hospice?”

  “Arrest her,” Tadeo said.

  He disconnected and commed Omar.

  “What did you find?”

  “We found a canister of explosives,” Omar said, his voice strained. “And it’s empty.”

  Dritan limped around the pile of crushed corpses, searching for any sign of extra supplies. He found a space between a body and rock and worked his hand beneath the boulder, feeling around for the belt he knew would be there. His forearm slid along a slick surface, blood and guts, and his stomach lurched. He swallowed back the urge to puke up the vacuum-packed quin bar he’d just eaten. His hand closed around a belt, and he gripped the edges of two oxygen packs and dragged them out, slowly. He’d lost one already to a sharp rock.

  He breathed easier as the packs came out intact. He crawled over the rock with his haul, his injured arm aching from exertion, until his helio’s light cast its glow on Jan.

  She looked asleep, listless, her skin deathly pale beneath her oxygen mask. Her chest seemed to barely rise and fall with each breath. Dritan’s chest tightened at the sight of the puddle of blood beneath her trapped leg. It had slowly grown in size in the past few hours, evidence of how much she’d lost.

  “Jan.” He laid the quin bars and oxygen packs beside her, next to the medkit he’d found. He shook her, and she opened her eyes. “I found more oxygen.”

  She blinked at the light of the helio and looked around, dazed. Then her unfocused eyes found his again. “How many… how many packs left?”

  “Two. We have enough for another twelve hours, at most. I’m sorry—I didn’t find another medkit. We’re out of painmod.”

  Jan’s blue eyes shone. “Doesn’t matter. The truth is… I can’t feel much of anything anymore.”

  Dritan’s throat thickened. “Just hang in there, okay?”

  “Earlier… I thought I heard a voice… from there,” Jan said. She lifted one limp arm, pointing toward a crevice near her. It was the same spot where the crew had been working to remove rubble before the quake killed them.

  “I would’ve heard it,” Dritan said. She was delusional, hallucinating from blood loss.

  “You need to check.”

  “Listen,” Dritan said, kneeling next to her, closer. “I’m going to leave again—try to find more water and oxygen—”

  “You know, I’ve been thinking about it,” Jan said. “In the tube we descended when we got here… they must have had an air recyc fan in there.”

  Dritan sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

  Jan groaned and let her head rest on the rock wall behind her. “On meteors. When I was on the Perth. The staging sites always have a recyc fan filled with extra packs.”

  Dritan swallowed. “Even if there was a fan… I can’t get to the exit, let alone the tube we came down. If the tube is even still there after the explosion. I’m sorry.”

  Jan blinked, and he saw the tears in her eyes. “I know.”

  “They’ll come for us. Rescue will come.” But the more hours that passed, the less Dritan believed it. Would they come? What if Jan was right? That the president wanted them all dead? Dritan took a quin bar from his belt and handed it to her. “Here. Eat this.”

  Jan grabbed his sleeve, not taking the bar. “I need to talk to you.”

  Dritan settled beside her, and as he did, he unwrapped the bar for her.

  “I’m not getting out of here,” she said.

  Dritan met her gaze. “We’re not quitting. This isn’t over yet. Don’t think like that.”

  She laughed, but it sounded bitter. “All I’ve been doing is thinking. About my husband—Gavin. And my daughter, Bella. She’s only three.”

  Dritan had been doing everything in his power to push away thoughts of Era. Of their unborn child. “They’re safe up there, Jan—”

  “No, listen. It’s not that. Bell made me promise her I’d take her to Observation and point to the subcity where I’d worked.” Jan’s voice cracked, but she smiled. “You know… she’d be sad every morning when I’d drop her off at caretaker, so I’d tell her, ‘Mama always comes back.’ She used to be so happy to see me when I’d pick her up. She’d squeal ‘mama’ in her little voice and run for me. And every single day, she’d say, ‘You always come back.’ But… not this time—”

  “You will,” Dritan said, squeezing her arm. “You’ll take Bell up to Observation, and you’ll point to this damn kakhole of a planet and tell her you kicked its ass. And then we’ll finish the jumpgate. And before she’s even a half, we’ll jump the fleet. Maybe find New Earth.”

  Jan’s pale blue eyes sparkled with tears in the light of the helio. “Promise me—if you get out of here—you’ll look out for my family.”

  Dritan’s throat tightened as he placed half the quin bar in her hand. “Stop it. We’re both getting out of here.”

  “Please.”

  Dritan forced himself to take a bite of the bar. “Only if you eat. You need to keep up your strength.”

  Jan’s eyes grew even sadder, and she glanced at the pool of blood beneath her leg. But she nodded and took a bite of the bar. “Now you have to promise me.”

  “Okay,” Dritan said. “I swear. But you have to promise me that if you’re the one who gets out of here, you take care of Era.”

  “I will. I promise. But if I don’t make it…” She reached a shaking hand up to the zipper of her suit and pulled it down, revealing a necklace with a bit of recyc metal hanging from it. “Bring this back to my family for me. Give it to Gavin for Bell. Don’t let ’em incinerate it. It’s been passed down through Gavin’s family for a long time.”

  “I will. But we’re both getting out of here,” Dritan repeated. He passed Jan the canteen to wash away the dry taste of the bar.

  As she took a drink, a low sound echoed through the cavern. A voice. They both froze, exchanging glances.

  “Did you—?”

  “I heard it,” Dritan said. He stood up and took a few steps, listening. Another sound… coming from the crevice. Dritan’s pulse quickened, and he stumbled around debris to get to the spot. The opening was pitch dark.

  He leaned into it. “Is someone over there?” he called.

  “Yes!” A deep, male voice came back.

  “I
hear you!” Dritan yelled. Hope lifted him, cleared his mind. Another survivor. Jan hadn’t been hallucinating. And there had to be a gap in the rocks. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to hear the man so clearly. Maybe Dritan could squeeze through there to the other side.

  Dritan went back to Jan and dropped one of the oxygen packs beside her. “Guess I should have listened to you. I’m going to try to crawl through.”

  “Get through.” Jan gave him a small, sad smile, visible through her clear mask. “Get yourself out of here.”

  Dritan leaned forward and smoothed her blood-matted hair out of her face. He looked in her eyes. “We’re both getting out of here. You’ll see Gavin and Bell. And I’ll see Era.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, then smiled. “A better world awaits.”

  “And we’re gonna get there,” Dritan finished.

  He handed her another quin bar and left her with an emergency glow to see with, then tightened his mask’s strap and crawled around the rocks back toward the crevice, wincing as his injured arm struck rock.

  The crevice was a dark gap between the cavern wall and the place the ceiling had fallen in. He hadn’t wanted to shove his body through any of these sections earlier, but now he had hope—proof there was something beyond here.

  “You still there?” he asked into the darkness.

  “I’m here.”

  “I’m gonna try to come to you.” Dritan snatched his helio from the air and placed it snugly in his suit pocket. Then he activated his last glow bar and hooked it to his pocket to help light the way.

  Before he could change his mind, he wedged his body into the crevice and gritted his teeth as the rock scraped his arm. The rocks pushed against his chest, icy cold, and his suit stuck to the sweat on his back. Each jutting rock stabbed him like the rivets that lined the tight sections of the sublevel pipes. He tried to pretend he was doing routine maintenance in the sublevels, but without the ever-present deep thrum of the power core, he couldn’t convince himself he was anywhere but buried hundreds of feet under solid rock.

  He forced himself to take even breaths, but sweat broke out on his brow, and the space grew tighter as he pushed toward the other survivor. If a quake happened now, this might be it for him.

  “I see your glow,” the man said. He sounded close, only feet away.

  “Is there space for me to get through?” Dritan asked, panting.

  He heard the sound of rocks moving, hitting the floor, of scree falling. Then a light. A helio. Dritan breathed harder, shoving himself through the tight space.

  The globe grew closer, and a few feet later, he reached the edge. He deflated his chest and got through, tumbling onto the ground, crying out as his arm hit the hard stone floor.

  He blinked against the helio’s light, and a thrill ran through him at the sight of the high ceiling there. This had to be the main cavern where they’d come in.

  “I thought I was the only one left,” the man said.

  Dritan sat up and looked toward the source of the voice, toward the helio. A man sat propped up beside the crevice Dritan had just come from. His leg was bloody, tied up with a messy bandage. Dritan moved closer to the man, and as he did, he made out the face beneath the mask. Dark hair, dark eyes, skin even paler than Jan’s. The man was a decade older than Dritan—maybe in his thirties.

  It was Bran McGill.

  McGill was the Paragon guard who had been sent down here with them. The man had acted bitter, never talking to any of them. He’d been kicked out of the guard after Sam had grabbed his pulse gun and used it to threaten the president’s daughter. Sam. Dritan’s gut twisted, and he pushed away memories of his crew. He had to focus. McGill had been here in the main cavern longer—he might know where to find the exit.

  “McGill.”

  McGill leaned forward, peering at him, and his eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Corinth.” He let out a low laugh. “The snitch survives.”

  Dritan went still, his heart in his throat. If any of the subs ever found out what he’d done, he’d be cast out—or worse. The sublevels had their own justice. He jerked forward, slamming his good hand into McGill’s chest. “What did you say?”

  McGill blinked, his expression flat. “Gonna kill me for sayin’ the truth? I’m dead anyway. We both are.” He swept his hand toward the rest of cavern. “And anyone who might have given a kak about what you did is dead, too.”

  Dritan held his gaze for a moment longer, then pushed away, getting to his feet. Every small movement sent a shot of burning pain through his arm, and he cradled it against his body.

  All his anger faded away as he made out the shapes along the wall. A pile of boulders sat atop a jumble of crushed bodies, limbs askew. Dritan’s stomach turned. It was gruesome, blood splattered along rock, dismembered limbs scattered across the floor. He fought back nausea and turned to McGill.

  “We’re not the only survivors,” Dritan said. “There’s another one on the other side. Janet Lanar. She’s trapped.”

  “I hope you aren’t wasting oxygen on her,” McGill said.

  Dritan’s nostrils flared. “Do you know the way out of here or not?”

  “The few who survived thought the corridor was there,” McGill said, pointing to the far wall, near the biggest pile of buried bodies and limbs. “Then the last quake took ’em all out.”

  The heavy weight in Dritan’s chest lightened, despite the scene before him. “We need to clear the rocks, then. Keep working on what they started.”

  McGill shook his head. “Then what? We came down a fucking tube to get here. You gonna climb to the surface? One breath of Soren air, and we’re dead.”

  “Jan said there might be an air recyc fan there—with extra oxygen packs.”

  For a moment, McGill looked almost hopeful. But then his expression darkened. “No. More like the entire corridor is gone and the fan with it.”

  Dritan leaned into the crevice. “Jan,” he called out. “Can you hear me?”

  A weak cry came back. “Yes.”

  “I found someone. We’re going to try to get to the corridor!”

  Another reply came back, but he couldn’t make it out.

  He looked back at McGill. “Can you walk?”

  “Haven’t tried lately and don’t wanna. I’ve got just enough painmod to last me till my oxygen runs out.” McGill pulled something into the light. A medkit.

  Dritan ripped it away from him and opened it. He pulled a painmod syringe from the case. Jan couldn’t feel her pain anymore, and if Dritan was going to move rocks, he needed to dull the pain in his arm.

  “Give it back.” McGill leaned forward, and Dritan snatched the medkit farther away.

  “Shut up.” Dritan prepped the painmod syringe and plunged the needle into his vein. He sucked in a breath as warmth spread through his arm from shoulder to fingertips.

  “We aren’t getting out of here. So don’t even bother,” McGill said.

  Dritan ignored him and stood up, stretching his arm as the painmod got to work, and the burning pain faded away. The numb feeling in his arm was blissful, but it wouldn’t last long. And there were only seven painmod syringes left.

  “We are not dying down here.” Dritan said it like it was true. Because it had to be. He wanted to believe it. Had to believe it. Era needed him. Their child needed him… If the pregnancy wasn’t defective.

  “It’s been two days.” McGill said tonelessly. “It’s over. They’re not coming.”

  “Someone will come back here,” Dritan said. “Even if they think we’re dead, they’ll come back. We just need to survive. When did you last take the painmod?”

  “A couple hours ago. The numbness will wear off soon enough.”

  Dritan picked up the medkit with his good arm. “Get up. And show me where the corridor was.”

  McGill glared at him. “Are you a half-wit? No one is coming,” he said, drawing each word out. “Don’t you get that?”

  “You wanna die down here? Fine. But I’m getting to t
hat recyc fan. And Jan and I will still be alive when rescue comes.”

  McGill’s expression smoothed into something unreadable. He studied Dritan for a minute, then finally held out a hand so Dritan could help him to his feet.

  “Now show me exactly where they thought the corridor was,” Dritan said.

  The two of them limped around rocks and bodies, McGill leading them to the spot where they’d been digging. McGill’s leg didn’t look right, but he didn’t complain.

  When they reached the spot, Dritan released him and took in the wall of rubble. It extended halfway to the ceiling, a mixture of immovable boulders and scree. He lowered the medkit to the ground and checked his oxygen. Half-full.

  He chose the smallest rock from the rubble, and tried to heft it with his good arm. It didn’t budge. He tried it with both hands. It was strange, his numb fingers clumsy as he struggled to lift the rock with them, but it worked. He lifted the rock and dropped it to the ground.

  “We’ll keep using the painmod so we can work,” Dritan said.

  “We’re dead, man. We’re never getting out of here. Look at that wall. You think we’re going to be able to move all those rocks, with your arm and my fucked up leg?”

  “Look—either help or shut up,” Dritan said.

  McGill leaned against the rock pile, taking the weight off his bad leg. “I bet you’re wishing they’d just airlocked you up there with your friends.”

  Dritan’s chest tightened, and he forced himself to take even breaths so he wouldn’t waste his oxygen. “And why are you down here? How’d a trained guard end up getting drafted? Didn’t they think you were good enough to do the job?”

  A nasty smile appeared beneath McGill’s mask. “That traitor took my pulse gun. I had nothing to do with him. But you—”

  “My crewmates were traitors. I am not.”

  “No. You’re just a snitch. Would the subs even let you live if they knew?”

  Dritan stiffened. “I don’t know where you got your information. But it’s wrong.”

  McGill let out a harsh laugh. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Dritan stared down at his blood and grime-covered hands. I did what I needed to do to protect my family. He couldn’t afford to think about this right now. McGill shouldn’t know anything about him. He’d have to deal with this later, once they got out of here. “Just shut up. We need to work.”