by Ginger Smith
“Orin says that it would draw less attention for him to meet us in a public place. I agree.”
Hal glanced to Vivi who nodded. “We should pick him up in the spaceport.”
Lane’s reaction was to roll her eyes. “But Beruga spaceport will have more surveillance than a city center would.”
“We would be closer to the ship, however, if we meet him in the spaceport,” Vivi pointed out. “And the crowd would also make it harder for surveillance to track him.”
Hal thought a moment. “You both make good points. They probably won’t be tracking him, but if they are, I’d rather be closer so we could escape. If we get found out, speed will be a major advantage.”
“Fine,” Lane huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face and turning back to her dinner.
Hal caught Orin’s gaze. He raised an eyebrow and Orin shook his head. Don’t push it, he seemed to say.
After dinner, Vivi went to the bridge for some routine monitoring of the ship. Things were looking good; engine efficiency was up by twenty percent and they were staying on course for Chamn-Alpha. “Eira? Can you handle everything tonight?” she asked.
“Yes, Vivi,” came the Mudar’s reply. “I will continue to work on the engines as well.”
“Thank you, Eira.”
“I was monitoring your discussions about the plan and I realize the surveillance in the spaceport is an issue,” Eira continued. “I may be able to use my nanites to assist when the time comes.”
“Really?” Vivi smiled. “That would be great. I’ll tell Hal. Let us know if you need us on the bridge.”
“Of course.”
“Thanks, Eira.” Vivi left and made her way to the common room, finding Hal and Orin engaged in a game of squads. Lane was sitting nearby, watching them.
“Who’s winning?” Vivi asked, as she took a seat near Lane.
“Cullen. I have never seen anyone play as well as he does,” Lane said with interest. “This is their third game.”
“Ty said that Hal rarely loses a game.” She watched Hal make a move that caused Orin to grin and shake his head ruefully.
“Do you play?” Lane asked.
“Hal’s teaching me,” she said, feeling defensive and trying not to show it.
Lane hmphed, giving Vivi a look from head to toe.
“OK, out with it. What’s your problem with me?” Vivi asked.
“I’ve known few nats well, but you are the first I’ve ever seen to involve themselves in a relationship with a vat. If you don’t mind me asking, what are you looking for? Tell me, is Cullen just a good story to tell your friends back home? Or is he just good in bed?” she challenged.
Vivi took a breath before she answered. “That’s none of your business,” she replied coolly. It was obvious now what Lane thought of her. Ty said vats were rough around the edges, but Lane was outright hostile.
Lane tilted her head, considering. “Very well, but what do you hope for? Cullen only has five, maybe six, years left. There’s no possibility of children – which, I hear, most nats long for. So I’m puzzled. What can you hope to gain from your relationship with him?”
“Children?” She wasn’t interested in having children, not now or ever that she knew of, but she hadn’t been aware that vats couldn’t have children.
“All vats are engineered to be sterile,” Lane replied.
She tried not to look too shocked. “I… I don’t want children anyway, and I don’t care how long he has. Six years or one month, doesn’t matter. As long as we care about each other and make each other happy for the time we have.”
Lane stared her down a moment, then glanced at Orin, who was watching the squads’ board intently as Hal made a move. After a moment, she spoke. “Perhaps we do understand each other, then. More than I first thought.”
Lane’s tough expression softened so much as she looked at Orin that Vivi asked the obvious question. “You and Orin are together?”
The vat nodded. “Since his injury. We were in the infirmary together. They considered terminating him, but I convinced my commander not to.”
“Terminating him? Oh my gods…” She tried to imagine pleading for Hal’s life in such a way, and suddenly she had a whole new understanding for Lane’s hostility against someone natural born. She sat back, lowering her voice as she asked what happened to him.
“He was attacked by some rebel insurgents on Stendal,” Lane said after a moment. “He was injured and the rebels tried to rip out his interface when his nat captain left him behind. We were the next unit through the area. We found him and took him to the medbay on our ship. The damage to his implant left him unable to hear or speak.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” She smiled as she saw Orin look up at them and motion with his hands. She replied with quick hand signs and a small laugh. “I found information on the feeds, then taught him sign language in our spare time. They assigned him to me in the ship’s engineering department.”
“Is there any way to repair his hearing?” Vivi asked.
“No. Pulling parts of the interface out damaged his auditory nerve pathway and the language centers of his brain. Have you ever seen an interface and its nodes? It branches through a vat’s brain like a tree. It grows with you and can never be removed.”
Vivi bowed her head, not knowing what to say. She couldn’t help but think of the scar on Hal’s temple.
“Do not make the mistake of assuming Orin is stupid, though. His thinking wasn’t damaged. He just has his troubles communicating.”
“It’s good that he has you,” Vivi said.
“I’d say the same for Cullen. I can see he’s very fond of you.” Again, Lane gave her an appraising look. “Maybe, I was too hasty to judge.” Orin began to sign to Lane, and she called out to Hal. “Cullen. He’s saying that you play very well; the best player he’s faced. He bets you were hell on the battlefield.”
Hal shrugged. “Tell him my captain taught me, so he gets the credit.”
She relayed his words, then translated Orin’s reply. “He says he hopes Tyce recovers well.”
“Yeah,” Hal replied, putting away the board. “Me too.”
THIRTY
There was a beeping coming from somewhere. Ty tried to ignore it and fall back into the blanketlike sleep he’d been in, but it continued in regular annoying intervals.
“Runa, turn off the alarm,” he tried to say, but his voice was a paper whisper. He was thirsty, and his head ached horribly. That was weird. He didn’t remember drinking too much last night, but he felt like he had a hangover.
He opened his eyes and saw an unfamiliar ceiling above him. He tried to sit up but couldn’t move. Was he a prisoner? The beeping began to increase with his heartrate. He couldn’t look down at his body, his head was strapped into something that kept his gaze on the ceiling, and he could feel cool metal across his forehead. Jerking at his hands, he felt straps holding them as well. He tried to kick his feet but couldn’t.
“Hey… Let me out of this!” he yelled, his voice gravelly and rough.
There were the sounds of running feet and then he saw a woman with short auburn hair looking down at him. “Take it easy, there,” she said gently, placing a hand on his arm.
“Where am I? Where’s my crew?” he asked. “Why do you have me strapped down?”
“Captain Bernon. Tyce. Listen to me.” She looked over her shoulder as someone else entered the room. “You’ve been injured, and we’ve had to keep you immobile. My name is Maddie Astrid, and I’m a doctor. You’re perfectly safe.”
He made a supreme effort to free his hands.
She placed a cool palm against his cheek. “It’s OK. You’ve got to stop moving or you’ll do more damage.”
He focused on her face. “Is my crew alive? Just tell me that.”
“Yes. They are. Your medic, Beryl, is on the way.” She glanced over at someone on Ty’s other side. “Just 3ccs. We don’t want him to go back under.” She turned back to Ty. �
��That’s it. Just look at me and breathe. That’s it.”
Ty felt a fuzziness spreading throughout his body, and the pain in his head eased off. The panic melted away like ice in the sun.
He sighed with relief when he saw Beryl’s concerned face above him. “How’re you feeling?” she asked.
He ignored her question. “Hal and Vivi?” He searched her face, “The… the ship? Everyone OK?”
“They’re fine. Everything is fine. Are you in pain?”
“Not anymore.”
His focus was fuzzy, and he was confused, but having Beryl there helped. If she said everything was OK, he could trust that.
The doctor spoke from his other side, drawing his attention away. “Do you remember how you got here, Captain Bernon?”
Ty tried to shake his head, but it wouldn’t move. “N- No.”
“OK. What’s the last thing you do remember?”
“Getting to Jaleeth Station. The ship…” Ty paused as he remembered moving through the ship with his crew. Something was wrong with the Loshad.
I am everywhere on this ship, a voice said. It was confusing; he was supposed to know the voice, but he didn’t. Different images flashed through his mind: wires, silver metal, Hal clutching at his head. “Hal… Hal was having trouble sleeping,” he remembered. “I think his interface… Wait, no. I’m not sure.”
Maddie looked up at Beryl, who nodded and took over. “Ty, do you remember being attacked?”
“No,” Ty whispered. “Where’s Hal and Vivi? Are they hurt?”
“No, Ty. They’re fine,” Beryl said, putting a hand on Ty’s arm. “I promise. Just rest now. We’ll talk later.”
“Beryl… Where is this? Why… Why can’t I move?”
“Ty, you were badly injured. We brought you to Al-Kimia.”
“They’re OK? Hal and Vivi?”
“Yes, Ty.” His eyes slipped closed at the relief he felt. Beryl said the crew was OK. He tried to hold onto that thought as their voices turned into murmurs, and he fell back asleep.
“Captain Bernon, can you wake up for me?”
He looked up to see the same auburn-haired woman from before looking down at him. She must be a doctor, he thought, noticing her lab coat again.
“Yeah…” He tried to move again, but his upper body was completely immobile. His hands were strapped to the steel rails of the bed.
“I’m here too, Ty.” He felt Beryl’s comforting touch on his arm.
“Beryl?” His eyes quickly found her.
The person on his other side spoke up. “I’m Dr Astrid, Captain Bernon. You can call me Maddie, if you want. We met last night. You’re on Al-Kimia, and you’ve been in a coma for over a week.”
“Why am I strapped down?” Ty asked. His fingers never stopped roving over the bedrails. His legs hurt. It was like a burning sensation from the soles of his feet to his hips, and he tried to ignore it, focusing on the doctor instead.
“You suffered a spinal cord injury. We had you immobilized to reduce any further injury to your neck or spine. I’m sorry you were a bit frightened last night when you woke.”
“How… How did I get hurt?” Ty asked, his brow furrowing. He didn’t remember anything.
Maddie looked to Beryl, who spoke up. “Ty, an ACAS agent – a vat – attacked you when we were on Jaleeth. You were stabbed.”
“Stabbed?” Ty asked. “Stabbed?”
“Yes. I’m going to undo these straps.” Maddie freed his arm and laid his hand on the mattress. “Do you feel up to doing a few tests for me?”
He nodded, taking a deep breath as Beryl released his other hand from the restraints. He reached up to his face, finding the head and neck brace. His fingers moved over it, reaching for the clasps. He felt like a dog being kept from licking his wounds.
“I’m sorry, but the neck brace has to stay on. May I call you Ty?”
“Yeah,” he said, letting his hands drop from the leather and metal contraption. “My legs hurt.”
“What kind of pain are you feeling?” Maddie asked.
“Like a burning. What’s wrong with me?”
“Let’s see if we can lift you up a bit.” Maddie adjusted the controls of the bed until Ty was almost sitting up, but not quite. He could see better, which eased some of his anxiety.
Maddie folded the sheet back, and he got a look at his legs and feet. With the pain he felt, he expected to see burns. But they looked totally normal. He went to move them but realized quickly that something was wrong.
“I… I can’t move,” Ty said.
“Try to wiggle your toes.” Maddie suggested.
He tried, but they didn’t move. “I can’t,” Ty said, feeling his frustration rise.
“Can you bend your knees?”
Ty gave it all his effort and his legs shifted on the bed just a little.
“OK, I see some movement, and that’s good,” Maddie said. “Close your eyes.”
Ty did as he was asked.
“Can you feel that?”
He shook his head.
“Here?”
“Nothing.”
“What about here?” It felt like she was lightly brushing the outside of his upper leg.
“A little.” Ty frowned, sensing that they were all skirting some issue. He fixed his gaze on the doctor. “Whatever it is, just tell me. I can take it.”
“I just ran my finger along your sole, and then your calf, but you didn’t react to either stimulus,” Maddie said matter-of-factly. “Tyce, the type of spinal cord injury that you have usually causes paralysis from the waist down. It seems that you have a little movement left, which is a good sign.” She laid her hand on top of his own.
Ty felt like he’d been hit in the solar plexus with a pry bar. He struggled to take it in as Beryl placed a hand on his shoulder. “So, I’m not going to be walking any time soon, is what you’re saying?” he asked hoarsely.
“Your motor and sensory function may improve some, but it will take time. A long time. Rehabilitation takes work.”
“Yeah. So, again, what you’re saying is I’m probably not getting out of this bed…” He looked up at her, trying to wrap his mind around what he’d been told.
“That’s not what I’m saying, no.” She moved so she was leaning forward and he could see her better. “It’s not what I’m saying at all, Tyce. If you decide you’re not getting out of this bed, then that’s where you’ll stay. If you decide to fight like hell… there’s no telling what you might be able to do.”
Ty closed his eyes, feeling a rising sense of panic. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. He needed her to leave and now. “I need time to… to process all of this, OK?”
“Of course,” Maddie said, glancing at Beryl. “I’ll come back and check in on you a little later. I’ll take the time to gather some information about what our next steps are.”
“Where’s Hal?” Ty asked unsteadily. “I know you must have told me… I keep forgetting.”
“It’s OK,” Beryl reassured him. “They went on a mission. Seren took us in, then asked Hal if he’d go on a mission to rescue a vat researcher on Chamn-Alpha. He agreed because of all they’d done for you. He… He went because he knew it was what you would do.”
Ty nodded, his eyes still closed. “I- I’m glad he isn’t here for this.”
“What can I do for you, Ty?” Beryl whispered softly, taking his hand.
There was a long moment of silence, then Ty whispered, “Just… just be here. That’s all.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised him. “I’ll be right here.”
THIRTY-ONE
It was the sixth morning of the mission on the Loshad, and Hal was the first awake. He stumbled to the coffee maker and loaded it up with the coffee that they’d gotten on Al-Kimia. He’d need the caffeine and the dark brew would be just the thing.
He hadn’t been able to sleep well after the screaming wake-up call that split the night at 0200 hours. He’d been up and out of bed
with a blaster in his hand before he realized what he was doing. He’d motioned to Vivi to stay put and made his way out of their door.
Lane had been huddled against the wall, a discarded blaster on the floor near her. Orin was on his knees beside her, gathering her up into a tight embrace as she sobbed into the shoulder of his black T-shirt.
Hal immediately realized what was happening, and his shooting stance dropped. The subjects of vat nightmares were common enough. Lost comrades, the fear and anxiety of past and future battles… Each one of them rose like restless corpses that would never be buried deeply enough. How many times had he, himself, struggled with the same things?
He approached the two vats. Orin looked up at Hal and signed something with one hand, never letting Lane go from his bearlike embrace.
Hal replied with a thumbs-up. “Understood, brother.”
He took Vivi’s hand. “Come on,” he said, leading her back into the room.
“Is Lane OK?”
“She will be.”
“I have the medjets Beryl gave me, if you think she needs…” She hesitated, leaving the words hanging.
Hal shook his head. “It was likely just a nightmare. She wasn’t… locked into some subroutine in her interface. I think Orin’ll bring her back around. At least that’s what he said.”
“What are the nightmares like?”
He shrugged. “Just different things. Replays of past battles. Not being fast enough, or strong enough to get the job done. It varies. Let’s just try to go back to sleep, huh?”
They laid back down, Vivi’s head resting on his chest. Eventually she drifted back off. He laid still for a while, feeling her slow, warm breaths against his skin before he fell into an uneasy half sleep himself. His dreams were full of worry and angst, searching the ship for Ty but never finding him.
The coffee maker beeped and the smell helped him shake off the night. Once it was ready, he carried it to the bridge. “Eira? What’s our ETA?”
“ETA is three hours,” Eira answered. “May I ask you a question, Hal?”
“Yeah.” He slid into Ty’s chair. “Go ahead.”
“Will Lane be functional again?”