by Rachel Aukes
As long as you stay online, Throttle thought to herself. “Is Punch with her now?”
“Yes.”
Throttle stood. “I’m going to check on her. Monitor all systems and reboot them as necessary. I’ll be back in just a couple of minutes.”
She strode to Punch’s cabin. She didn’t like to leave the bridge unattended during a time of erratic electrical interference, but she also needed to check on the Durands. She didn’t worry about Eddy—he continued about his life as though everything was normal. She also didn’t worry about Finn—he kept himself as busy as possible, no doubt to stay sane. Finn and Punch sparred several times a day to pass the time. Punch would also help out whenever and wherever he was needed, but his focus never left his daughter. He spent every free hour at his daughter’s bedside as the Javelin brought the Black Sheep deeper and deeper into the abyss.
Folks believed the abyss was where people went when they died. Throttle had never expected to go there when she was still alive.
She knocked lightly before entering Punch’s cabin. He was standing over the bed where Macy had lain for the past month. He paid Throttle no attention when she entered, and she proceeded to the bed slowly. Macy lay there; her skin seemed sallower than before. An IV kept her hydrated and fed her nutrients. Three weeks earlier, Eddy had inserted wires into Macy’s chest so that Rusty could monitor her metrics, and—as of that day, send a charge to jumpstart her heart.
“Rusty said she went into V-fib. Is she stable again?” she asked softly.
“Stable.” He plopped into the chair. “Back to whatever this is.” He held out his arm, gesturing to his daughter. He leaned back and ran his hands through his hair and inhaled deeply. “I’m losing her, Throttle. I’ve tried everything in the medical kit, from stims to the shockers, but she keeps getting worse.”
Throttle didn’t speak. She wished for words of encouragement, but there was nothing that could be said. The medical equipment and doctors they needed were a star system away—they could’ve been galaxies away from help for all the difference it made. Macy would die while they were in the black hole. In a way, she was getting off easy. The remaining passengers would follow in a few more months after their food ran out, and their deaths would be far more unpleasant.
She squeezed his shoulder and went to leave, only to be nearly tackled by Eddy.
“Hey, watch it,” Eddy said as he carried a box into the cabin.
She stepped back and watched as he plopped the box down on the bed.
“What are you doing?” Punch asked.
Eddy didn’t look up while he rifled through the box. “I pulled the probes out of Tigger to run some scans.”
“Tigger?” Throttle asked, taking a step closer.
“One of Rusty’s bots. Aha.” Eddy lifted a metal cylinder. A needle the diameter of a fork’s tine protruded from one end.
Throttle’s eyes widened. “Whoa, Eddy. What are you doing?”
Punch grabbed Eddy’s arm. “You are not sticking my daughter with that.”
Eddy seemed perplexed. “This is the smallest needle that fits the probe.”
Throttle’s gaze narrowed. “Eddy, what are you thinking of doing?”
He looked at Throttle, then at Punch. “Easy. We’ve run all the tests we can, using the medical kit. We haven’t found anything, and she’s dying.” Punch winced at the last word but didn’t say anything as Eddy continued, “I was modifying Bonkers’s gyroscope when it hit me. Each bot has a specialty. Tigger’s a probe bot, a lot like the medical scanner.”
Throttle spoke. “Whoa there, Eddy. The probe bot is designed to gather samples of asteroids for resources, not samples of people.”
Eddy shrugged. “Asteroids, people, they’re all made up of basically the same stuff.”
She guffawed. “No, they aren’t, not at all.”
He eyed her like she was an idiot. “Carbon.”
“That probe you’re holding is meant to go into rock, not soft tissue, friend,” Punch said.
“This probe?” Eddy held it up. “No, it’s meant to go into a gaseous pocket. This probe is a thousand times more precise than any medical scanner.”
Throttle took the probe out of his hand and looked at it. The needle was long and had a rounded tip, with holes in the metal. She guffawed. “It’s not even sharp.”
A beep sounded. Punch swung around to his daughter.
Rusty’s voice followed. “Alert. Macy has entered ventricular fibrillation. Stand back. I’m applying defibrillation now.”
The girl’s body convulsed, followed by a second convulsion three seconds later.
“Macy’s heart rhythm has returned to normal,” Rusty said.
Punch grabbed Macy’s hand and held it, his eyes clenched shut. After a long moment, he looked at Eddy. “What tests are you thinking of running?”
Eddy pulled a tablet out of the box and showed them the screen, which displayed a scrolling list of hundreds of programs. “The whole gamut. The probe would read all the data in Macy’s blood at a molecular level. Since it’s set up for analyzing metals and gases, Rusty will have to help us translate the results. But Rusty has downloaded much of the Atlas network’s encyclopedia, so he should be able to identify anything that’s off. Well, assuming there’s something physically wrong with her, that is.”
“And if you don’t find anything?” Punch asked.
“Then you may as well unplug the cables from her because I don’t know any other tests we could run. We have nothing to lose by sticking her with the probe.”
“We’re not going to unplug her,” Throttle said.
Punch closed his eyes while he inhaled and exhaled. When he opened them, he looked straight at Eddy. “We’ll try the probe, but you’re not sticking her with that.” He held out his hand to Throttle. “I’ll do it.”
She handed him the probe. He eyed the pointy end and leaned over his daughter, holding the device. “Where do I insert it?”
“I don’t think it matters. It just has to stay there long enough to get all its readings,” Eddy said.
“Hold on. I’ll grab the med kit.” Throttle saw the bag sitting on the floor near the bed. She picked it up and pulled out an antiseptic spray. Punch tugged her shirt collar back to reveal the fleshy part of her collarbone. Throttle sprayed the skin and then the probe’s needle. He eyed the tip and frowned. He pulled out his knife and held it out for Throttle to spray. She did, and he brought the blade to her skin. He paused for a second, his features tight, before he pierced the skin with the sharp tip of the blade. He held it there as he inserted the probe and then gently pulled away the blade.
“How long do I keep it inserted?” Punch asked.
“I don’t know. Oh, wait.” Eddy lifted the tablet he held and tapped the screen. A red light on the probe began flashing. “There. Now it’s on.”
Punch squinted as he eyed Eddy sideways. “Your bedside manner could use some work.”
“No, it doesn’t. I’m an engineer, not a doctor. Why would an engineer need a bedside manner? That makes no sense.”
“He has a point,” Throttle said as she pulled out a bandage.
“Knowing he’s an engineer and not a doctor doesn’t exactly make me feel better that we’re taking his medical advice,” Punch said.
She turned to Eddy. “He has a point, too.”
Eddy didn’t look up from his tablet. “Done. You can take the probe out now.”
Punch pulled out the thick needle.
A dot of blood formed at the hole and pooled. Throttle pressed a bandage over the wound.
Punch handed the probe back to Eddy, but the engineer was focused on his tablet. “Okay, Rusty, all the data’s been received. See what you can see.”
“The resource logistics system is processing the data now. As soon as it finishes, I’ll compare the molecular structures with known drugs and diseases.”
Eddy looked up and took the probe back from Punch, and Punch returned his focus to his daughter, checking her i
ncision and running his thumb over her cheek.
Long seconds passed. The lights flickered.
“There are malfunctions in the lighting and air-processing systems. I’m running reboots now,” Rusty announced, then added several seconds later, “I have identified the probable source of Macy’s health issues.”
“What is it?” Punch asked quickly.
“She has no illness, and there are no drugs in her system. However, she’s full of nanites.”
“Nanites?” Punch frowned. “Why would she have those?”
“That is a good question,” Rusty replied. “I would need to connect with a functional nanite to read its operating parameters. Then I’ll understand why they were applied and why there is such a large number in her body.”
Punch was familiar with nanites. They were commonly used by GP doctors to aid in the recovery of patients, often applied to attack infections at the source. But Macy hadn’t been sick or injured. Therefore, nanites in her system made no sense.
Eddy strode over to Macy and delicately plucked the bandage off her shoulder.
“What are you doing?” Punch asked.
“If her blood’s pumped full of nanites, then there are nanites on this bandage. All I have to do is put the bandage in the Javelin’s printer, and Rusty can access them.” Eddy gestured at Punch. “Unless you have a better idea.”
Punch waved him off. “No. Go. Hurry.”
Throttle looked at both men. “I have to get back to the bridge. Let me know as soon as you hear something.”
She left the room after Eddy, and Punch turned back to Macy. A rivulet of blood ran out from the open incision. He grabbed another bandage and dabbed at the blood with one hand while he rifled through the bag for a sealant. Finding one at the bottom of the bag, he sprayed the gel over the wound. The sealant expanded and formed a pink coating over the wound.
He cupped her hand in his and watched her breathe. Each breath was shallow, in and out. She was so fragile. She’d always been small for her age, but her confidence and energy made her fearless and unstoppable.
Prior to becoming a marshal, he’d lived on the other side of the law. But during his career of thievery, he’d never harmed a kid. Any decent person knew better than to hurt someone’s kid. His teeth clenched. He would make sure that whoever did this to her—and all of their business associates—would pay dearly.
“The nanites were used to control her.”
Punch turned to see Eddy rush back into his cabin. He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The nanites were used to control her,” Eddy repeated, then rolled his eyes. “Rusty, you explain.”
“The nanites are running an invasive program that instructs them to incorporate themselves into crucial bodily functions and take control. They then listen for signals from their controlling program to act,” Rusty said.
Punch frowned as he listened. “You’re saying they were used to turn her into their slave?”
“Exactly,” Eddy said.
As the reality of what Macy suffered became clear, Punch jumped to his feet, fists clenched. “Those sons of bitches. They imprisoned her within her own body.”
Rusty spoke. “That seems to be the original purpose of the nanites. However, these particular nanites were designed to reproduce without restriction. It was very poor coding on someone’s part, as they essentially allowed the nanites to become a virus. The nanites have continued to reproduce to where they make up over thirty-one percent of her blood and likely as much, if not more, of her organs. Because of their unhindered growth, they’ve superseded all her body’s ability to manage itself. When we entered the black hole, the constant EMP waves have been killing off the nanites, which in turn is killing Macy.”
Dry ice seemed to fill Punch’s lungs, and his breathing sped up. “What do we do?”
Rusty continued, “There is only one solution available, given our current resources. We must replace the aggressive nanites with cooperative nanites to aid in her healing.”
“Do it,” Punch said without hesitation.
“You should be aware that, while I can encode machine learning parameters within nanites, I do not have the ability to create nanites with the intelligence to know where and how to heal Macy. These nanites, like the ones currently infecting her, require a parent system to operate. The nanites will need to be on my network so that I can continue to analyze the progress and feed new instructions.”
Punch shrugged. “That’s how all medical nanites work.”
“Sure, but it’s more complicated than that,” Eddy said.
Punch’s gaze narrowed. “How so?”
Rusty answered, “The nanites have likely destroyed too much of Macy’s cognitive functions for her to survive without artificial assistance. She may always depend on my signals in order to perform all necessary biological actions, such as breathing.”
“She’s brain-dead,” Punch said, the words barely above a whisper. He reached out and grabbed the chair and sat down before his legs gave out. His Macy, his precious Macy, might already be gone.
“She’s probably brain-dead,” Eddy chimed in. “She’s been in a coma for over three weeks. That means she can’t wake up on her own. Who knows how bad they’ve fried her brain.”
Punch glared at Eddy while he took a very long, very deep breath. The scrawny engineer had a knack for pissing him off, and he didn’t want to kill the only crew member currently able to help his daughter. It took him another breath before he could speak. “So even if she wakes up, she won’t be Macy anymore.”
“That sounds about right,” Eddy said.
“We do not know that,” Rusty said. “We will not know the extent of the damage to Macy’s brain until my nanites are introduced to her system. Then I can provide a better analysis of her mental state.”
Punch moved his gaze to Macy. If he did nothing, she’d die. If they inserted new nanites, she might live but might no longer be his daughter. The lights flickered, and he rubbed his forehead. Another EMP wave, which meant that more nanites were dying, killing his little girl. He closed his eyes. He had no choice. If Macy had a chance to survive, he couldn’t take it from her. He raised his gaze to Eddy. “Do it.”
Eddy smiled. “Good, because I’ve already started printing blood with Rusty’s nanites. I’ll ramp up the printing speed.” He turned, then stopped and raised a finger. “Oh, you need to build a Faraday cage big enough to hold Macy. That’s a contraption that will shield her nanites from the EMP waves.”
“I know what a Faraday cage is,” Punch said. “How soon will you be ready to inject the nanites?”
“It won’t take long. Ten, twelve hours, maybe,” Eddy replied and then left Punch alone.
Fourteen hours later.
“That ought to do it.” Finn wiped his hands on his pants.
Punch pushed himself off the floor and to his feet and examined the Faraday cage the pair had built around a large cargo crate. They’d used all the aluminum sheeting they’d found in Eddy’s stashes, which had been enough to make two complete layers of shielding with some left over to reinforce the makeshift door. The flooring was rubberized mats from the sparring square Finn had built in the cargo bay. The makeshift door was open. The cage contained a mattress and blankets from an extra cot taken from the Scorpia before it’d been wrecked. A battery-powered lamp sat on a box in the corner.
It wasn’t pretty, but it would work…hopefully.
Punch could’ve used some of Throttle’s optimism about then. Without it, he had to bite back his fear. He sighed, nodded to Finn, and then called out to Eddy, who was sitting across the cargo hold, tinkering with a bot. “We’re ready.”
“It’s about time.” Eddy stood. The trio walked from the cargo hold into the hallway. On the way, Eddy stopped by the galley, opened the cooler, and pulled out a bag of the synthetic blood infused with nanites. They headed to Punch’s cabin, where Macy lay on the bed, with Rusty’s wires still in her chest. Sylvian sat at Macy’s side and stood
when they entered.
“Did she have any more V-fib?” Punch asked as he took the seat.
Sylvian gave a tiny nod. “Only once since you last checked on her.”
Finn strode over to the small wall screen on the wall and pressed the intercom. “It’s time.”
Throttle arrived within a few seconds. She’d either already been on her way or had jogged there. Her prosthetic blades made a slick click with every step on the ship’s hard floor. She eyed the bag of blood in Eddy’s hands. “I thought blood grossed you out.”
“It does. But this stuff isn’t real blood. It’s synthetic and it contains more nanites than synth blood. So, really, it’s just wet hardware.” He lifted it to examine it. “Really wet, really sticky hardware.” He handed the bag to Punch.
It contained at least a quart, if not more, and was a cold weight in Punch’s hand. He frowned. “Shouldn’t we warm it up first?”
Eddy shrugged. “How should I know? I’m not a doctor.”
“The cold will help reduce Macy’s heart rate and give the nanites time to attack and replace the existing nanites. I’ve instructed the nanites to turn off all pain receptors so that she will be comfortable during the transition,” Rusty said.
Punch stood with the bag. “So I just swap this with the IV bag?”
“Yes. You may exchange the bags whenever you are ready,” Rusty replied.
He looked across the faces of the crew. Finn and Sylvian held hands. Throttle watched him. Eddy impatiently tapped his foot. Punch swallowed. He looked at Macy, then unplugged the IV bag of clear liquid and plugged in the bag containing the synthetic blood and nanites.
He watched a line of red travel down the IV and found himself holding his breath as the blood advanced toward her vein like a snake shooting through a tunnel. As soon as it entered, he grabbed Macy’s hand and focused on her face.
“The nanites have begun to come online,” Rusty said. “As soon as my nanites outnumber the other nanites, I’ll send them to eradicate and replace all the invasive nanites.”
Macy didn’t move while the bag drained down. Her hand became colder in Punch’s, and he pulled the blanket higher over her.