Gestern

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Gestern Page 12

by J. Grace Pennington


  I couldn’t help a slight smile. It sounded a little like August.

  And a little like me.

  The smile vanished. “Did you know my mother?”

  He shook his head. “I never met her.”

  We waited as the night lifted. He glanced at his wristcom, then nodded at me. I stood straight and waited as he eased the door open.

  “I already disabled the ink,” he whispered. “It’s safe.”

  I took a step forward but he held out an arm in front of me.

  “Not quite yet. Let them get going first.”

  I didn’t hear anything for a moment, then the now familiar whoosh of bats rushing from the forest to the castle began softly from overhead and a bit behind us.

  He lowered his arm, hoisted his backpack a little higher onto his back, and slipped out the door.

  “Get into the forest as fast as you can,” he said a little louder as the sound of the bats increased. “Don’t stop until I say to.”

  I licked my lips and nodded, trying to ignore the chill of fear that sank into me as I stepped up into the morning. Again, I saw the swarm of bats hurtling towards me, becoming thicker every moment.

  God, protect us...

  We set off running towards the forest. The whir of wings filled the crisp morning air as the bats streamed around us but the pounding of my heart in my ears rivaled the sound of their storm.

  Just a few meters to go.

  Dred’s height gave him an advantage, and his long legs carried him ahead of me quickly. When I was halfway to the trees he was already crossing their border. I pumped my legs harder, already feeling a sharp pain in my chest.

  Maybe I should have made more use of the exercise rooms on the Surveyor.

  What if I lost him in the woods? I had no way to contact him. I wouldn’t dare call out for him.

  I’d be alone in a foreign country with no idea where I was going.

  The thought spurred me faster than I thought I could run and I made it past the first trees, still besieged by bats, flying towards and past me like giant, black, winged raindrops. I ducked my head down, certain one would hit me in the face.

  I waited, eyes shut, until the sound had thinned to the occasional whiz. Then I opened my eyes.

  I didn’t see Dred anywhere. Just trees and dim shadows of trees.

  I wasn’t supposed to stop running until he said so, I remembered. I breathed deeply, then rushed ahead again until my pulse thundered and pain shot again across my ribs.

  My shoe caught on something as I ran and it threw me to the ground too suddenly for me to prepare for the fall. My chest slammed against the forest floor, pulling the air from my lungs, and a shower of objects tumbled over my shoulders. My backpack. It must be open. I gasped, trying to move, but finding myself paralyzed against the cold ground.

  A hand pressed to my mouth, blocking an involuntary scream. An arm slid around me and pulled me upwards in one swift motion, then held me back against a chest that rose and fell deeply and quickly.

  Dred’s voice whispered in my ear, so close I could feel his breath and smell the tuna he’d eaten before we left. “Shh. It’s me.

  I tried to speak, couldn’t, and pointed to the ground where the contents of my pack lay.

  “Leave it. We have to keep going,” he said. He took his hand from my mouth but kept one arm around my waist to support me. I managed to suck in a breath at last and gasped again.

  He let go, and without another word he started ahead, no longer running but still at a brisk pace. I stumbled along behind him, trying to compromise between optimal speed and the safety of feeling for roots, holes, and other hazards.

  The light increased as we kept on into the forest, but no one jumped out at us and we didn’t encounter a single living thing on our trek except a bird that chirped at us as we passed its tree.

  At last he stopped and turned around. I trotted up to him, panting, and met his eyes, trying to read his expression. I couldn’t.

  He checked the time. “Only eight a.m. We’re probably a little more than a kilometer from the castle.”

  I swallowed, still trying to catch my breath.

  He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “We can rest here for a few minutes, but then we have to keep going. I’m sorry.”

  I still didn’t have the breath to speak. My lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, each alveoli shriveling up in protest. I nodded to show I understood, then lowered myself to the tough, cold ground, not minding the lumps and twigs and leaves. I just breathed.

  The rest didn’t last long enough. After what felt like two minutes, Dred said, “We need to go.”

  I groaned inwardly. Please, a little longer. I can barely breathe.

  Saying it aloud, though, would make me sound like a child. After all, it was my own fault that I was so out of shape. Crash and the Captain were in space as often as I was, and their jobs required even more sitting, and they managed to stay fit and strong.

  I was just too lazy.

  Without a word, I let Dred grip my hand and help me to my feet. His hand was cold and bony, and I pulled away as soon as I was steadily up.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  He pulled out his pad. “I’m still not getting reception, but I can at least read the offline maps and use the compass.” Then he shifted his backpack and began to navigate further into the forest, leaving me to follow along behind.

  CHAPTER XVI

  The Doctor hadn’t take me on many road trips as a child but the few times he had, I beset him with all the traditional questions. “How much longer?” I would ask. “Where are we going?” And of course the classic, “Are we there yet?”

  After awhile he would get annoyed with the questions, and tell me to be quiet so he could find the way there. I would try to be quiet. I really would. But silence is hard for a five-year-old. In the end, he would pacify me with stories about various procedures and operations he’d performed over the years, which would probably have terrified any child but myself.

  I loved every word of them.

  At twenty-two, I still hadn’t learned the art of prolonged silence very well. I felt like asking all the same road trip questions now, along with, “When should we try to contact help?” But talking would only waste breath, and I was having enough trouble getting air to sustain the activity as it was. So I just followed, forced to entertain myself with my own thoughts.

  They didn’t prove to be very good companions.

  Like thoughts about Crash. Where could he be? Had he been released, and could he even be looking for us? The idea filled me with hope, a fact that brought a wry smile to my face. Funny how my mood towards him changed once he was gone. I was back to wanting him near intolerably, even though I was definitely still angry with him. The anger, however, was swept to the back of my mind, bringing adventure, affection, and the safety he could provide to the forefront. My feelings of distrust seemed to be hiding wherever the memories of his immaturity and pride had gone off to.

  Oh, Crash. Dear Crash. From the moment he became my honorary big brother, he had brought equal parts joy and trouble into my life.

  Mine and the Doctor’s.

  Pain pierced my heart. My Doctor. He must be so worried after not hearing from me all this time. More than anything I wanted him here so I could reassure him, and so he could calm and advise me, as he always did.

  Scratch that. More than anything I wanted to be back home. Him and me. Working on the Surveyor.

  The pain deepened.

  “No one likes to face their gestern, but no one can escape it.”

  In the crunch of the leaves and the chilly forest air of a far-distant country, I came to understand something I had probably known deep down for the past year.

  While August’s gestern might be too terrible, mine was too perfect.

  And he was right. I didn’t want to face it.

  Because once I did, my mind always wanted to remind me that the chance
s of me ever having it back were infinitesimal.

  I bumped into Dred before I noticed that he’d halted.

  He stood still for a moment, then turned around. “Want to go ahead and try contacting your friends?”

  “Sure,” I said, and sank to the ground without further comment. I winced as my behind hit a rather sharp rock and I shifted slightly to one side, then pulled out my pad.

  “I don’t want to keep still too long,” Dred stated.

  I navigated to the message program.

  Doctor, I typed, then hesitated.

  Where was I to start?

  “What’s wrong?” Dred asked.

  “Nothing.” I started typing again.

  I’m safe, but August and Ursula have been kidnapped, I think by Edmunds’ men. He’s got bigger plans than he told us—I think. It’s speculation, but I have pretty good reason to think he wants to kill me. Dred and I escaped and are on the run—if this message gets through please tell me what I should do. Please send help. I don’t know what to do. And please get away from Edmunds. He is just trying to destroy the radialloy. It’s a long story. I’ll explain later, but...

  “Hurry,” Dred murmured.

  ...please send help. I don’t know where Crash is, and I don’t know what to do. Tell the Captain what’s happening. Please pray, Dad. I love you.

  I hesitated, then added, See you soon.

  I pressed send and watched the progress bar anxiously.

  Nothing.

  Dred stood above me and peered down at the screen. “Is it working?”

  “Not that I can tell,” I sighed.

  He put his hand down towards me again. “We may still be blocked. Just keep it on as we walk. We’ll see what happens.”

  I didn’t reach up to take his hand. I’m so tired. I don’t think I can move my legs any more. I’m thirsty. I’m so cold. I’m scared.

  None of these things seemed worth saying. How was it that I could explore new planets, perform medical procedures, and even advise the Captain on how to run his ship at times, but I couldn’t handle a few kilometers of chilly wilderness?

  Instead of prodding or asking questions, Dred sat down beside me after a moment, crossing his legs.

  I picked at the fallen leaves with my fingernails.

  Dred said nothing.

  My eyelids felt heavy, and I widened my eyes to force them to stay open.

  “How much further?” It felt good to let the question out.

  He pulled out his pad and studied the map. “In another twenty minutes we’ll be closer to Krems than we are to the castle. It’s the closest fully functioning town—I’m sure we’ll be able to get a signal then.”

  Twenty more minutes. And I didn’t think I could do it.

  I felt like crying.

  “Sorry I’m so pathetic.”

  He didn’t reply.

  If the Doctor were here, he would put his arm around me and pull me close, and would have some sort of gruff reassurance that would make me smile.

  “If help doesn’t come, what are we going to do?” I asked.

  He looked up towards the leaves overhead. “I don’t know. I guess maybe if we can take them by surprise, we might have a chance. My blaster is fully charged.”

  I closed my eyes and savored the relief the simple action brought. His tone was so calm and even.

  “Aren’t you worried about her?” I couldn’t help asking.

  He kept looking at the sky. “Scared to death.”

  “Then why aren’t you panicking?” I watched his body language for any hint of emotion, but he gave none.

  “Panicking won’t help her.” The leaves rustled as he got to his feet. He reached his hand down to me again and I let him pull me up. “Any progress?”

  I looked at the pad again. “No.”

  He shifted his backpack. “Then let’s keep walking.”

  We started off again. My legs were sore, but my chest no longer hurt and my heartbeat had quieted and slowed almost to a normal sinus rhythm, so I gritted my teeth and plugged on, following his lead. Every few minutes I pulled out the pad and checked, but every time the progress bar remained static.

  We must have walked for the full twenty minutes when he stopped again. I managed to keep from running into him this time, and waited to see what he’d do.

  For a moment he just kept still, staring ahead. Then he turned and motioned for me to sit down.

  I was only too glad to settle onto the ground again. The chilly air was beginning to make its way through my skin and seemed to seep into my very marrow.

  I closed my eyes, trying to image sickbay on the Surveyor. Long, white, with cots lining both walls. Beeps and blips from monitors at each station. Fresh sheets on the cots. The faint scent of sanitizer. The Doctor grunting some good-natured insult at a patient as he worked.

  The rustle of synthetic fabric jarred me out of my fantasy, and something padded enveloped my body. I opened my eyes to see Dred settling a coat over my shoulders.

  “An extra,” he murmured, then pulled away and looked at the sky again.

  I slid my arms into the thick coat and let the warmth consume me. Space was cold, but the Surveyor regulated the temperature so well that it was rarely even uncomfortable. I remembered the days on Earth, though, and snuggling close to the heater on snowy days while the Doctor worked nearby. I would read, or take apart some electronic that nobody needed anymore.

  The Doctor used to make apple cider for us from his mother’s recipe when he was finished working. Then he’d sit on the floor next to me and we’d talk.

  Back when life had been our big adventure instead of being beset with complicated plots, greedy opportunists, and deep-seated moral dilemmas.

  Until that day that I had walked into sickbay for work and found August lying on one of the cots.

  Oh August...

  My thoughts dissipated when Dred tapped my shoulder. “Check the message.”

  I pulled out my pad and checked the screen. My heart jumped.

  Halfway finished.

  I showed it to him without a word and he nodded. “We’ll wait here until it’s done.”

  “Then what?” I asked.

  Dred consulted his compass and map again. “Once it sends all the way... I think we should start circling back around.”

  I swallowed. “To rescue August and Ursula?”

  He nodded. “We can plan on the way. Hopefully if we approach them from the other side, we can keep the signal for a little longer.”

  I looked back down at the screen and watched the progress bar creep along like a dying EKG. A worry that had been nagging at my mind finally surfaced.

  If it came down to a choice between saving Ursula and saving me—saving the world, even—what would Dred choose?

  What would I choose?

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Lord, guide us.

  By the time the message sent the tree shadows were lengthening, leaving the air a little colder. Dred began leading me in a direction perpendicular to our previous trajectory, and he spoke in a low voice as we walked.

  “The danger is that if we surprise them it may turn into a hostage situation. Ideally we should find a way to get August and Ursula away without them noticing, but I’m sure they’re watching for us.”

  If only we had been able to take the time to take advantage of his laboratory when we were back at the castle. We could have created some kind of gas that would put them to sleep and allow us to sneak in and retrieve our loved ones.

  “You said they probably have motion sensors, right?” I pointed out.

  “Possibly. But I’m assuming they’ll be watching for motion coming from the castle. There are too many animals in these woods for them to shy away from everything that moves. Still, it’ll be hard to get too close.”

  My mind continued to fixate on the idea of the sleeping gas. Think. You’re a doctor’s assistant. You’re an inventor. Think.

  What was in my first aid kit? Nothing that could be aerosolized, I
didn’t think. And I could try fashioning a blow gun of sorts from my hypo, but the prick would alert whoever we targeted in time to warn the others, and then we would be out of luck.

  All assuming they were still in the woods and that August and Ursula were still alive.

  I shivered and forced my mind back to the problem. I did have a small supply of general anesthetic. But again, no way to deliver it from a distance. And it was definitely too much to hope that they’d have their guard stationed with his back to the trees where we could reach out and capture him without being seen. Why would a guard keep his back to the forest?

  I sighed, and it must have been more audible than I intended because Dred asked, “What?”

  “I’m just trying to think of a way to formulate and deliver some kind of incapacitating agent.”

  “Any luck?”

  I shook my head. “I have some medicines, but no way to deliver them.”

  He slowed a bit as he pondered this. Then he reached under his jacket and pulled out something small and black. “I’m just a researcher and physicist, not an engineer, but... could you do something with this?”

  He pressed his blaster into my hand.

  I ran my fingers over it. “Maybe. But it will make noise when it fires...”

  He looked towards the sky. “Can you have it working by this evening, when the bats head out?”

  I smiled a little.

  It was hard disassembling the blaster with only my first aid tools. By the time it was in pieces on the ground before me, my fingernails were chipped and cracked and my fingers ached. But I was able to transfer the fuel from the cells into an empty medicine bottle, then I began picking at the mechanism with a hypodermic needle to try and adjust the ionization. Dred held his pad up above me to illuminate my work in the growing shadows.

  “Aren’t your arms getting tired?” I murmured, using what was left of my right forefinger nail to pull a transistor wire from beneath the fuel cell.

  “Aren’t yours?” was his only reply.

  I was used to detailed work, but even so my hands were shaking by the time I finished my adjustments and filled the cells with Xenon. As I reattached the cap to the cell, I felt buzzing from my pocket and almost dropped my work. Trembling, I handed the mechanism to Dred without a word and he took it without question. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my pad.

 

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