The Hands We're Given

by O E Tearmann

  "Get back to the truck," Kevin hissed, shoving the collections bag into Aidan's hands.

  Aidan opened his mouth. "Kevin, what-"

  But it was already too late. Kevin had turned off his slick suit's camouflage and sprinted into the metal wasteland. The drone would be on him in seconds.

  Aidan slung the bag over his shoulder, but he didn't even consider running for the truck. Screw whatever Kevin thought he was doing, Aidan wasn't losing his logistics officer. He wasn't losing Kevin.

  His boots crunched into the gritty soil, and he gasped command queries as he ran. Instead of struggling to get his suit to cycle through the security circuits, he ordered it to look for anything that looked like a ranged weapon with enough juice to work.

  The drone fired again. Metal fell like killing rain. Kevin yelped somewhere in the dark.

  Aidan's suit pinged, a directional arrow appearing on his left glove. He snatched up the welder's bolt gun before he'd realized what it was. The barrel looked slightly warped, but his suit's sensors assured him the inner workings were sound, though this model only had enough charge for ten bolts if he was lucky. He thumbed the on switch and found himself pleasantly surprised when the gun actually started to hum in his hand as it warmed up.

  The drone buzzed. Kevin screamed. The pleasure fizzled.

  Aidan's footing was unsure on the shifting landscape, but he kept running. The drone flashed between the stars, a black disc three feet wide, barely visible in the night. Aidan aimed the bolt gun at it and hoped like hell it had warmed up enough. He pulled the trigger.

  The flash of light nearly blinded him.

  He hadn't honestly expected to hit the drone on the first try, but his aim was apparently better than he thought. The drone's rotor whined. It dipped toward the ground.

  "Kevin, heads up!" Aidan shouted. He couldn't see where Kevin was, or exactly where the drone would hit. All he could do was hope.

  The drone crashed into one of the mountains of junk, scattering scrap everywhere. A coil of frayed wire bounced down to land at Aidan's feet. He kicked it away and scrambled in the direction Kevin had gone.

  "Kev! Kevin! Talk to me!"

  The groan was so quiet that Aidan almost didn't hear it. He scrambled towards it.

  "Kevin?"

  Another soft groan, followed by a weak, "I'm okay."

  Aidan scrambled toward the sound. He nearly tripped over Kevin, who was lying half-buried under an avalanche of bits and pieces. Ignoring another warning on the inside of his face screen,

  -Suit operation at 20%-

  Aidan knelt down beside him and started brushing scrap off him. "You dumbass!" he snarled. "What were you thinking, turning your suit off? Get it back on. Now."

  Kevin gingerly sat up and shook his head, trying to clear it. "Just a Killdeer gambit. Draw them off your position," he whispered, wincing when Aidan touched his shoulder. He rubbed his cheek where a purple bruise was already spreading. "Damn that hurt."

  "Get your suit activated," Aidan snapped. He glanced up at the stars, half-expecting another drone. "That's an order Kevin!"

  Kevin shook his head again, but he blurred as he reactivated his slick suit. "You've got to get out of here," the logistics officer whispered, "there'll be another drone soon. Your suit's broken-"

  "Then we're leaving together," Aidan hissed back. "Like hell am I leaving you behind."

  Aidan shoved aside the last of the debris that had landed on Kevin. Nothing had so much as torn his suit. Lucky.

  "Think you can walk?"

  "I'll manage," Kevin murmured. "We need to get the gear back to base."

  Aidan snorted and moved to sling Kevin's arm over his shoulder. "Then you better get your ass moving." He switched shoulders when Kevin yelped.

  "Did you take the drone down?" Kevin's voice sounded weak as he levered himself up to his feet, leaning heavily on Aidan.

  Aidan nodded and turned back toward the hole they'd cut in the fence. "Yeah. But they're probably sending another one right now. So move."

  Kevin glanced at the sky, but he walked. His boots crunched along the metal-strewn ground.

  Red flashed across Aidan's vision again:

  -Suit functionality shutting down-

  "Crap," Aidan whispered despite himself. As if the suit failing to hide his body heat wasn't bad enough. Now, he might have to cut it off instead of using the normal electrical release. Great. That took their base down to a single slick suit, assuming Kevin's didn't take damage before they got out.

  Assuming they made it out.

  They made their way across the shifting landscape back toward the fence. Aidan kept looking at the sky, expecting to see another drone against the stars. Once or twice, he thought he heard the whine of rotors spinning toward them.

  Aidan skidded to a stop when they reached the fence. The clips he'd used to hold the mesh back from the hole were still in place, but there was no hole in sight. The nanobots must have overcome the virus.

  "Shit!"

  He yanked the knife from his boot again and desperately began sawing at the mesh.

  This time, the sound of rotors was real and growing closer. Definitely more than one drone headed their way. The nanobots shimmered and shifted in the wake of the knife until Kevin jammed his hands into the cut to keep it open. Bullets pinged off metal behind them. The fence split and Aidan reached back to shove Kevin through. As he ducked down to follow, the bag they'd filled with supplies caught on the rapidly re-sealing fence. He cursed under his breath and tugged.

  Aidan pulled harder on the bag. He tried to push it backward and move it off the snag, but couldn't get the leverage. The fence mesh seemed to cling to it like a high-powered magnet.

  Kevin crouched down in front of him. Without a word, he reached over and grabbed the top of the bag, shoved it backward and down, then pulled both it and Aidan out of the junkyard in one smooth motion. He snatched a pistol out of his belt and turned to face the fence. "Get the truck going. Motor has to turn over a few times. I'll watch our backs."

  Aidan scrambled out of his crouch. "Kevin!" he hissed, "Don't play hero again!"

  "Not the intent," the logistics officer replied coolly, but he didn't move.

  Gritting his teeth, Aidan bolted for the truck. It sounded like the drones were right on top of them, but they hadn't started shooting yet. They must still be just out of range. He dove into the driver's seat and turned the keys.

  The engine spluttered.

  Bullets sprayed the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust so thick Aidan could barely see the junkyard fence.

  He tried again. The engine whined.

  The dark shapes of three drones flitted over the junkyard, blotting out the stars. Aidan desperately turned the keys, slamming his foot on the accelerator. The truck's engine finally revved.

  Kevin flung open the passenger side door and leapt inside. "Go, go, go!"

  Aidan slammed it into reverse and hit the gas. They jumped backward. Once the truck was far enough away from the fence, he changed gears and wrenched the wheel around. They bumped and rattled into the night as fast as Aidan dared without the headlights on.

  The heat of the engine would make them easy to follow for the drones' thermal cameras, but the short-range guard drones couldn't go too far from their base of operation before their programming called them back. Aidan just hoped they could outrun them.

  He gripped the steering wheel so hard it hurt. He could feel the suit tightening down against his skin. His heart pounded in his chest. Kevin's breathing was ragged beside him.

  Another burst of bullets sprayed the ground right in front of them. Aidan yelped and yanked the wheel to avoid getting hit. The truck jittered to the side. Aidan slammed on the gas. The desert night sped past in a blur of blue and red under the starlight.

  Slowly, the whir of rotors faded into the distance. Aidan's grip on the steeri
ng wheel began to relax. Kevin pulled his tab out of the bag and set it on the dashboard, watching as the screen flipped through the security channels they'd hacked into, keeping track of the location of dozens of drones.

  Finally, Aidan pulled up under an overhang of red rock and cut the engine. The wide-range security drones were due to make their fly-over soon. Better to stop for a while and recover, get back on the road when it was safer.

  They sat in silence for a long time, listening for rotors over the quiet buzz of the night insects. Aidan rested his arms on the steering wheel and propped his chin on his wrist, watching the star-studded sky.

  "You all right?" Kevin breathed. At some point during the drive, he had deactivated his slick suit.

  Aidan sighed and leaned back so he could manually flip his face screen up."Yeah. Think so. Banged my knee pretty bad. Your shoulder?"

  "Bruised. Doesn't feel severe." Kevin shrugged.

  "Um, good," Aidan whispered eventually.

  So. They were alive. They'd gotten out with most of what they'd gone in for.

  At the expense of a bad bruise across Kevin's cheek, that or worse to his shoulder, and an action that could have caused so much more.

  Slowly, some of his anger seeped back. He took a breath. "You scared the hell out of me back there and acted like a complete gamma, Kev. Don't do that again."

  Kevin ducked his head in a slow nod. "I'm sorry, Aidan. I- When I saw you like that, I guess I panicked."

  Aidan sighed. Kevin was normally so level-headed. He'd been utterly cool on-Grid, when Aidan had been scared shitless.

  So why had he acted like this out here?

  On the tab screen, the red dot of a drone approached their location. They waited in breathless silence as the long-range drone passed, not even the sound of whirring to announce its presence. The red dot moved out of range.

  Aidan breathed out. Kevin looked up with a smile. So close. They were so close.

  "That's the last of them. A very fine night's work if I do say so."

  Aidan tried to smile, but it faltered. "I didn't get the holo board. That was the part we needed most."

  Kevin smirked as he pulled the bag up from the floorboard and into his lap. He rifled quickly through the materials they had managed to grab, yanked, and pulled out the board with a wink.

  "Oh, I don't know about that."

  "What? How…?" Aidan breathed, feeling the wave of defeat that had been threatening lift.

  "Fell down the pile when you did," Kevin whispered, grinning. "I simply grabbed it up. After all, I am the requisitions officer. Snatching things is my forte."

  A rush of joy shot through Aidan. They'd done it. They'd gotten everything. Nose to nose with Kevin, he grinned. "Holy shit, we- Holy shit! You… wow. Kevin, holy shit! This is like one of your vids!"

  Kevin's eyes glittered like silver in the low light.

  "You know, if this is a vid, I know how the scene ends."

  "Yeah?" Aidan asked, still giddy with relief.

  Kevin was still smiling, his teeth white outlines in his grin. And he was leaning closer. Aidan could feel the heat of his skin, his breath.

  "Heroes always get a kiss at the end of the adventure. That's the convention." Kevin tipped his head, eyes holding Aidan's. "Would the hero like a kiss?"

  Aidan froze. Was Kevin actually… Was he…?

  He wet his lips. His voice escaped as a whisper. "Am I supposed to be a hero?"

  Kevin's smile was soft now, and he was so very close. "I don't see anyone else in the driver's seat. So you must be." Then he pressed his lips against Aidan's.

  Kevin's lips were hot. Aidan's brain turned inside out. Kevin was kissing him.

  Kevin had started kissing him.

  This was real.

  He leaned into the warmth with a pleasure that was almost pain. This was only going to be a second, but if only this second would last.

  Softly, Kevin drew back. "Was that okay?"

  Kevin's whisper barely made it through the buzzing in Aidan's brain. He gasped in a breath.

  "Um, okay. Yeah." He swallowed hard and forced himself to sit up. "We-we should get going home…"

  Kevin nodded, eyes still holding his as he drew away. "I suppose we should."

  Event File 27

  File Tag: Situational Awareness

  Timestamp: 11:00-8-7-2155

  Kevin woke in darkness. Rolling over, he suppressed a groan and cataloged his condition.

  Shoulder, hurt a week ago and still aching. Damian had given him a topical muscle-relaxant for it, and that had helped, but some things had to heal naturally. Deep tissue bruising among them, unfortunately.

  Head. Dully pounding. Too long in an intensely loud environment.

  Throat. Parched. He coughed. The inside of his larynx felt like it had been sandblasted.

  That was what a three-day Grid mission did for you when it went wrong, he reflected, and you spent five days hiding with a family in a tiny maintenance apartment above a six-lane highway breathing fumes, with the billboard outside blaring day and night.

  Pride. In fairly good shape. That family had been grinning so widely when they boarded their plane to England. The eighteen-year-old daughter had kissed his cheek. He smiled at the memory. Sweet kid. It had been the perfect way out of country for the family too.

  In fact, it had been exactly what his own parents had chartered for him when they realized the work they were doing was going to get them killed. They'd made sure he had a way out.

  A way out he'd turned down.

  Ears. Ringing and aching. No surprise.

  Stomach. Roiling. What time was it?

  Rolling over carefully, he got out his glasses, then checked his tab.

  "Damn." he whispered under his breath.

  Eleven in the morning. He'd missed breakfast. Granted, the day was his for recuperation, but he still needed to eat and report to Aidan.

  Aidan.

  Kevin flopped back onto the bed.

  Aidan.

  He hadn't seen the man properly since that night in the junkyard. Since he'd leaned in and kissed him, like the idiot romantic he was.

  Priorities, he told himself, shaking his head. Focus. Get up, get something to eat, get caffeine, come back and get cleaned up properly. Then go talk to Aidan.

  He wasn't at the height of fashion when he stepped into the hall, but he was presentable. Pulling up his messages, he checked what had gone on in his absence, keeping close to the hallway wall in order to leave others room to pass in the cramped space.

  The shrill yelp beside him made his heart kick into overdrive.

  "I said don't touch me!"

  Kevin's tab dropped from his hand. He caught it before it hit the floor, turned and glared at Tweak where she had plastered herself across the hall, back against the wall. She glared right back.

  Yes, he had officially had enough. He'd had a long week, he was tired, he hadn't eaten, and this girl had just stepped on his last nerve. She might be new, but he was done holding back with her.

  "Tweak, believe it or not I have absolutely no inclination whatsoever towards touching you," Kevin snapped, walking faster to get past the girl laminating herself to the wall. "I brushed by you. The hallway is narrow verging on the claustrophobic. It pains me to break your delusional little heart, but I have it on good authority that the world actually does not revolve around you. Shocking, I know."

  "Fuck off, CES," she called after him.

  Kevin grit his teeth and focused on his tab, working at controlling his temper. The girls had been on base two weeks now and he'd never wanted to decommission someone and throw them out to live on the Fringe so badly before. If only Tweak wasn't so bloody good at her work. She was such an asset in a coding chair. Shame she was such an ass everywhere else.

  Smiling sourly at his word play, Kevin crossed the canteen and stepped into the
kitchen where Andrea stood with flour dust coating her to the elbows. She gave him a grin, the kids at play around her laughing. In the corner, Billie gave him a tiny smile as she poured more bowls of flour into bags. Kevin gave her a smile in return, then gave an exaggerated look around the room.

  "What happened here?"

  "The food processor spit flour everywhere the first time!" Tommy crowed, still too young to realize what a mistake in his mother's kitchen cost them.

  Andrea nodded with a chagrined smile. "Yeah, the processor got grit in its works. But Topher fixed it up, and this second batch worked. With this golden rice flour, we can finally quit with the nutrition powder."

  "Glad to hear it, because that stuff has all the appeal of chalk dust," Kevin quipped with a smile. He stooped down to scoop Henrietta from her play crib in the corner of the kitchen, and made the little girl giggle with a quick spin and a boop on the nose.

  "Yep, I'm gonna try to make pancakes out of it," Andrea remarked as she sifted her new flour.

  Kevin shot her a grin. "Fancy making me your test subject? I'm in the mood for a decent breakfast after the week I've had."

  "Sure, I can fix something," Andrea agreed, adding. "And while he's watching Hen, Tommy, tell the list to Kevin and me, okay? Kevin hasn't heard you yet."

  "Okay!" the little boy agreed brightly, and took a long breath.

  "NatBank buys us and ZonCom sells-"

  "No hon, the list. Not the poem."

  "Yeah okay," the boy agreed with a little less enthusiasm. He sucked in another deep breath. Kevin almost expected his cheeks to puff as he began to recite, "The United Corporations Of America. ZonCom owns all companies that do the shipping, trade, and marketing and making all the roads. They react bad to people doing barter, to selling Corporate information and to alternative currency. They react good to nonconformity and to creativity. They're okay even with Gammas whose brains are okay," he began, pronouncing the longer words with careful determination,