1 – Aki
Northeast.
The crater in Brock Prefecture. They would not pursue me past the peaks towering around it. Entrance was prohibited by Shadso herself. Over a millennium past, the Torch’s shuttles set down in the south of the only continent. She had already marked the crater in the far north as death. It was an old impact, but what it exposed under Hertha’s skin would kill anything organic for many ages to come.
After everything I had done, the crater was my only salvation. If my flesh peeled, if my eyes burst, if I burned slowly from the inside out, I would welcome that over the spectacle of my capture.
In the whole of Hertha, there was no alternative. Home was out of the question. My erstwhile enemy, the Commonwealth, would never take me in. To them, I was a war criminal. That would be another kind of spectacle, and I would be just as dead in the end.
Even if there was no radiation – not that I had ever doubted Shayna Espinoza’s word before the past few weeks – I would at least be able to shoot myself in peace.
Northeast. Beyond the peaks.
My Grendel surged forward, fists and feet digging deep into the rocky soil of the Gyantse Highlands. I was only a few hours out of Shinchaw City. If I stopped to rest, to eat, even to piss, they would gain ground on me. Hovertanks could outpace me on the flat, but none had yet appeared. Only golems could traverse the hillier terrain beyond the River Avantine. No other golems could keep up with a Grendel, and no living Grendel pilots could keep up with me.
Lucky for me, Brock was awful. Nobody lived in Brock. Not Dominion, not Commonwealth, probably not even squeaking mopfs. I just needed to get there.
But I was days from that river, and I could not keep up this pace. The morning’s battle had been fierce. The exhaustion I had accrued in the past weeks was debilitating. Still, my body found the energy somewhere. I kept my mind off my reason for running by focusing only on my objective: survive, until I could die in peace. I was very good at focusing on the objective.
I would need to hide. If I continued at this rate, I would pass out. My Grendel had been running at full speed long past her recommended capacity, and the heat inside the cockpit was unbearable. I had plenty of water, available at need from the straw next to my face, but it was as hot as everything else. Even the holoscreens around me, though cold displays themselves, were beginning to falter. The external feeds came in sluggish chunks. I switched them off, leaving only the cockpit alu-glass with which to keep my bearings and balance.
I had plenty of experience with running dark, due to countless hours endured to earn my proficiency ratings. My hands, in the control sleeves, maintained a steady ground-eating lope. Slight feedback informed me of terrain pitch and texture, but keeping balance without the peripheral screens required all my concentration.
At Academy, we had been taught to think of our Grendels like marionettes, and ourselves the puppeteers. The Grendel was different from other golems. It featured a newer, more precise method of control. There were few Grendels, and even fewer pilots capable of using them at their full potential. The best of us were considered virtuosos, and the Army considered our hands to be precious beyond measure. My own precious hands were starting to cramp.
I had ripped my transponder and comms panel off of my control dash as soon as I’d re-entered the Grendel. No radar or TorchSat sensors would be able pick me up. That meant I was deaf and blind, outside of my immediate surroundings. As I continued my rapid pace, I visually scanned the area ahead of me for somewhere to lay low.
The syscom panel to my left flashed a warning. The sysvox droned its tinny groan.
***
WARNING
SHUTDOWN IN THREE MINUTES AT CURRENT WORKLOAD
REDUCED WORKLOAD RECOMMENDED
***
It was happening much sooner than I had expected. Traversal efficiency must be suffering due to autonomic stress level, I reasoned. Better stop soon. After the flash of disappointment, I was thankful that the syscom had interrupted my panic with a problem. My worries receded into purpose.
“Damrep short L DUB A,” I said. I was surprised my voice sounded so strong. “Silent,” I added.
> DAMREP SHORT L W A
> SILENT
SILENT MODE ENGAGED
LEFT SHOULDER BEARINGS 90% STABILITY
REMAINING LIMBS OK
ALL WEAPONS INTACT
LEFT ANLACE 21
RIGHT ANLACE 23
LEFT NACANN 63%
RIGHT NACANN 87%
I wondered how I had managed to use my left flame cannon so much more than my right one.
“Pause. Rep left nacann tank.”
> PAUSE.
DAMREP SHORT L W A PAUSED
> REP LEFT NACANN TANK.
LEFT NACANN TANK INTEGRITY 100%
RESUME DAMREP SHORT L W A?
Well, that happened sometimes, even to me. “Resume.”
> RESUME
ARMOR INTEGRITY UNKNOWN
ENABLE EXTERNAL FEEDS?
“Negative.” Losing stability in my shoulder was not good, but the limb report really could have been worse after what I had done to that Akuma. As for my armor, that did not matter enough to turn the screens back on to let the sys examine via the external feeds.
> NEGATIVE
***
“Statrep nacann L R.”
> STATREP NACANN L R
DARUMA TECHNOLOGIES DRACUN NACANNON
LEFT MOUNT
FUEL REMAINING 63%
FUEL TANK INTEGRITY 100%
FUEL INJECTION EFFICIENCY 100%
DARUMA TECHNOLOGIES DRACUN NACANNON
RIGHT MOUNT
FUEL REMAINING 87%
FUEL TANK INTEGRITY 100%
FUEL INJECTION EFFICIENCY 72%
***
Gomsdamnit. No wonder. How did I not notice that when I was firing? Didn’t matter. The rep indicated no danger of combustion. Better things to worry about.
Ahead of me a few hundred meters, a brown lake came into view through the dusty Gyantse haze. How people lived in this Prefecture, so polluted by its own rock dust and wind, had always baffled me. The metropolis that had been Shinchaw City boasted some of the worst air quality ever known to mankind – and not because of our own emissions. That probably had something to do with why my heat efficiency had become so poor. We had never run missions up here for as long and hard as my Grendel had operated today.
My mind explored the possibilities of clogged heat sinks and dust-stuck components. My hands did the rest.
I slowed the Grendel, and began taking careful steps, my index fingers guiding the arms to pull and balance the Grendel’s bulk, propelling forward with the legs using my thumbs. I pressed off of large boulders as much as possible to leave less of a trail as I approached the lake. I hoped the everpresent dust would obscure any remaining trace before halfdark fell.
“Gods of man, let it be deep enough,” I muttered to myself. “Statrep ox.”
> STATREP O2
O2 AT CURRENT RESP 10.4 E-HOURS
STATREP O2 COMPLETE
***
Good. It would last even longer once I relaxed. More than enough time for what I had in mind, and I could refill the tank with the scrubbers later. I rarely checked my canned air. Thankfully, our techs had kept up with it on my behalf. I snorted. Of course they had. James would make fun of me for even questioning it. My mind reeled for a moment, then I remembered not to remember. Matters at hand only.
“Engage life support.”
> ENGAGE LIFE SUPPORT
LIFE SUPPORT ENGAGED
***
I maneuvered the Grendel over the rocky lip of the sludgy brown lake. The steep bank allowed gravity to carry me to the bottom in short order. The lake turned out to be quite deep, three times my Grendel’s height or more. I hoped I would be able to clamber my way back out, somewhere. That was a problem for the future.
Finally at rest, I still felt as though I were rocking back and forth in my Grendel’s gorilla-like lope. A distant part of me noticed the popping sound of the sludgy water boiling through my reactor’s sinks. The Grendel slumped into restlock with a tap from my foot. Minimal sysops and life support would remain on battery, but the reactor would power down. I barely managed to disengage my control sleeves before passing out.
2 – Aki
When my eyes cracked open again, the cockpit was dark other than faint indicator lights. There was only black outside the alu-glass. I was shivering. My hair and undershirt were damp. The inside of the Grendel had become cold. Well, of course. Gyantse’s austere environment reached temperatures well below freezing overnight, and I was at the bottom of a gomsdamned lake.
“Statrep cabin temp.”
> STATREP CABIN TEMP
CABIN TEMPERATURE 11
***
No wonder I was chilled, but 11 was not cold enough to be a real problem.
“Rep local E-time.”
> REP LOCAL E-TIME
The syscon paused before responding.
CONNECTION ERROR
RETRY
CONNECTION ERROR
SATLINK NOT FOUND
***
Right. I had pulled all that the moment I mounted up. I was still foggy from sleep, if sleep was what I could call it.
“Rep sys time.”
> REP SYS TIME
SYSTEM INTERNAL TIME
0507
***
That meant halflight would start soon, at this latitude. But Faustine was still up when I had first spotted the lake. How long was I asleep? I attempted to mentally convert the sys time into E-hours. This process was usually instantaneous, but I could not even recall the conversion constant. Fuck this.
“Calc H 0507 as E.”
> CALC H 0507 AS E
H 0507 = E 0620
***
I tried to estimate how many hours I had been out, when I realized that I had never logged what time I stopped. Why was I doing it this way? This was first-year logic. I was making this much too hard on myself. How the hell had I passed Academy if I couldn’t even track basic bio hours while under duress?
Annoyed, I demanded, “Statrep R.”
> STATREP R
REACTOR ON
REACTOR POWER INITIATED 1093 21/03/1084
Had I not powered off? I glanced down toward the restlock pedal. It was down, but only in idle. I had not slid it over into lock. No, I had not powered off. Disgusted with myself, I watched the syscon for the rest of the report.
REACTOR CURRENT JOB 27.34
REACTOR TEMPERATURE OK
REACTOR EFFICIENCY OK
SHUTDOWN RECOMMENDED FOR SYSOP CLEANUP
***
27 H-hours? And it was almost halflight – I had been here for – fuck it. Lt. Carey would have flayed me for my abject failure to handle this situation. I flailed around for a different angle.
“Uh. Sysrep – shit, no. Statrep ox.”
> STATREP SHIT
STATREP ERROR
COMMAND SHIT UNKNOWN
***
“Gomsdammit! Statrep ox!”
> STATREP OX
O2 AT CURRENT RR 1.1 E-HOURS
***
For the hundredth time, I cursed the entire lineage of the scientists who decided to keep the Earthen clock for anything related to human biological needs. I was sure that was useful in a hospital, but out here? I steadied my breathing. The Grendel was a young model, it had its imperfections, there were coding limitations, and it was no one’s fault but mine that I was in this situation.
“How about – sysrep ox?”
> SYSREP O2
LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM ONLINE
LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM ENGAGED AT 2378 21/03/1084
“Stop.”
> STOP
SYSREP O2 HALTED
***
Sysrep was always H-time. Ox on at 2378, current time 0507, over 14 H-hours down here. I began to curse prolifically, then remembered to conserve my atmo. I was down here somehow breathing despite an O2 rep that had told me it only had 10 E-hours left 18 E-hours ago. My breathing could not possibly have slowed that much. If I had been that chilled, I never would have awakened on my own. I was alive. Therefore, something else must be happening.
I felt calmed by the return of my capacity for reason. I sipped some water from the hanging straw. It was much too cold. So was I. I remembered I could do something about that. I twisted behind my command chair to unclip the mounted supply case. My aching fingers found the soft fabric of my field thermal, and dragged it out. I pulled it over my head, and sat back, my mind emptying as warmth returned. I began to slip into a comfortable daze, but came back to myself with a start.
“Oh.” The reactor had never shut off, so life support had never fallen to battery backup. The scrubbers had been operating the whole time, recycling the cockpit air.
Despairing of my idiocy, I leaned my head on the back of my command chair. I gazed at the dimly lit ceiling panel. My eyes wandered over the familiar layout. Service panel there, access latches, a thin rivulet of water trailing down the inside of the alu-glass. It shone pale green in the status lights.
I stared.
“Fuck. Me.”
I had accidentally saved my own life by passing out, only to discover that my Grendel – designed for ops in all conditions – did not appear to be waterproof at this depth and temperature.
Without thinking, I tapped the restlock pedal into active. I slid my hands into the control sleeves, and detached them from their docks. I closed both fists, and the lights along the back of my fingers flashed red twice. I glanced at the syscon.
READY TO EXIT IDLE MODE
WARNING: SHUTDOWN AND REBOOT FOR SYSOP CLEANUP
CONFIRM SHUTDOWN?
“Negative.”
> NEGATIVE
CONFIRMED
REFUSAL LOGGED
Who gives a shit?
READY TO EXIT IDLE MODE
***
I turned my closed fists palm-up, then straightened the index finger and thumb of both hands. I brought both hands up to face me at eye level. I pressed the ulnar sides of my hands together. The control sleeves shuddered, a wave emanating both left and right from the point of contact. The 360 degree holoscreens came to life simultaneously. The darkness beyond the alu-glass was replaced with the holoprojection of the terrain before me as interpreted by the external cam feeds. I could see the inside of my Grendel’s cockpit through the projections, but only barely.
> PILOT ENGAGED ACTIVE MODE
ENTERING LIMB CONTROL IN
I looked side to side. The feeds had defaulted to infrared due to the tenebrosity, but the murk bounced this wavelength enough to render it useless. Clear water was difficult enough for IR, but this was not going to work at all. I could see no more than ten feet around the Grendel, and that little bit was a grayish haze.
3 – TAP RESTLOCK TO CANCEL
2 – TAP RESTLOCK TO CANCEL
I snapped my thumbs with my middle fingers to engage manual inputs, and watched the syscon for its response.
> PILOT INITIATED MUDRA INPUT
LIMB CONTROL COUNTDOWN HALTED
MUDRA MENU
I double-tapped the middle finger of my right hand to my thumb before the syscon began listing options.
> 2
SPOTLIGHT CONTROL MENU
1 OFF
Double-tap ring finger to thumb.
> 3
LED CONTROL MENU
1 OFF
2 RED
Again.
> 3
BLUE LED MENU
1 ALL OFF
2 ALL ON FULL
3 SELECTIVE MENU
Middle to thumb.
> 2
ALL BLUE LED SPOTLIGHTS ON FULL
Still cloudy, but I could see the bottom of the lake, and the jagged outcroppings nearby. It would do. I shook both my hands as though flicking water off.
> PILOT EXITED MUDRA INPUT
ENTERING LIMB CONTROL IN
3 – TAP RESTLOCK TO CANCEL
I crossed the little finger and ring finger on both hands for limb lock, then laid my forearms on the command chair’s rests. My hands hung loose over the rounded ends. I positioned my thumb and index fingers in default pose.
2 – TAP RESTLOCK TO CANCEL
1 – TAP RESTLOCK TO CANCEL
LIMB CONTROL ENGAGED
***
The sleeves thrummed. I released my crossed fingers. The Grendel swayed just slightly as my overtired thumb twitched. I sighed. Poor form. My hands desperately needed a rest, but in a Grendel, there was no way to give them that. I proceeded to perform the standard limb test. The Grendel rocked side to side, backward and forward. Everything seemed to be working.
I crept along the lake floor, very slowly, not wanting to disturb the surface far above. Through the holoprojections, I could not see if the leak was worsening, but that was just as well. No use scaring myself.
The ground began to slope upward gradually. A break in my luck?
I craned my neck to peer upward, continuing to inch toward the surface. The feeds had not yet given any indication of the distance, but I was not sure they could, with no spotlight facing up. I locked, and considered. Was I in any shape to try this?
No choice. I would need to know where the surface was before emerging, in case I was not alone. I exhaled. Carefully, I twisted the Grendel so that it balanced on its right arm and both legs. I tilted my left side to face the surface, and watched the feed. The particulates in the water made the surface difficult to discern, especially as I had stirred up even more by moving. I held my twisted position for some time. There. I was confident I could see the pattern of surface ripples. Another few steps, and I could reach up to take a look.
> PILOT INITIATED LIGHTS OUT
My Grendel plummeted into darkness, except for a telltale indicator light. I did not remember making that decision, but I agreed with it. Relief. At last, I had entered my flow, and was able to ignore the syscon. I could see a tiny bit of amethyst toward the top of the alu-glass. Faustine called me out of this abyss into her gentle halflight. Gods of man knew I needed to be well on my way before Fortuna illuminated this garish red Grendel for all to see.
I opened my right hand, and placed it spread-fingered on the lake floor. Then the same with the left. I could use tactile feedback to navigate the rest of the way. My lights may already have shone too brightly, but they would have been a brazen invitation for sure if I had brought them much closer to the surface.
Groping, I proceeded by touch until the top of the alu-glass broke through. I ducked back down, hunkering to hide my sat sensor ‘ears’. I shifted balance to my left side. I raised my right fist into the morning air very slowly. I rotated my wrist clockwise, then back again.
As far as the feed could show, there was nothing out there but the desolation of the Gyantse highlands.
A part of me felt gutted by the emptiness. I could not fathom why.
I pulled my hand back down, situated myself for rapidity, then surged out of the water. I settled into a breakneck rhythm.
Northeast.
My stomach growled.
Why had I not thought to eat a gomsdamned nutri-bar? Carey would’ve had my balls for this performance.
3 – Aki
I was only two kilometers from the river when the hovercars found me. I was surprised they had taken so long. Maybe the fact that I had done the unthinkable delayed the Army’s reaction. Maybe the fighting in the city had intensified, and no resources were available to send after me. Perhaps they assumed I ran toward the ‘Surges, to turn my coat like my father had.
No doubt they were puzzled to find me heading toward Brock.
I ignored them. Once the terrain changed, the hovercars would be forced to let me go.
The moment I chose to ignore them, my brain chose to shut off.
I was jarred back to awareness when my Grendel wrenched sideways, slammed to the ground, and slid shoulder-first along the rocks. It must have looked to the hovercars like I had thrown myself down deliberately at max speed. My seat restraints held me in place, and I clenched the controls necessary to ragdoll my Grendel so I did not make things worse by twitching my fingers. I slid to a grinding halt.
I glanced at the syscom. There was a lot. I decided I had no interest in reading it.
The holoscreen showed black under my right side, but the other screens showed the three hovercars circling me. My mind was sluggish. Adrenaline could no longer sustain me. I could not make myself move.
One hovercar pulled close, within arm’s reach. Were they insane? I watched, incredulous, from my half-conscious sideways position. The hovercar’s passenger jumped out, and then the vehicle skirled away to safety. Was that? It could not be.
It seemed that Jake Kalliavas, a Centurion from another Fulcrum also stationed in Shinchaw, was sprinting toward my cockpit. Jake and I had been friends at Kinnomori Military Academy. A lifetime ago.
Even after what I had done, he trusted me enough to clamber onto the mounting ledge and slam on the alu-glass with his fist.
“Yeo! For Torch’s sake, shut down! You’re unhinged!” Jake screamed at me.
I could not reply.
“Aki! It’s ok. You’re not yourself. It’s Shinchaw. Shinchaw is fucked up, buddy. It’s so fucked up. Come back. It’ll be alright. They’re pulling us out.”
Jake slammed the glass three more times, then waited, listening closely. I gave him nothing to hear.
“Fuck!”
He turned back and shouted instructions to the cars, waving animatedly. I could not fathom why he’d come all the way out here in a hovercar.
“Aki, gods damn you. Will you at least tell me you’re alright?” Jake pleaded. I was shocked to hear him utter all this profanity. Jake was a True Believer. He even believed in marriage. I’d never heard him curse, in almost a decade of friendship.
I found a scrap of energy. I locked my Grendel’s controls, and slid my right hand out of the sleeve. I fumbled, straining, to reach my mesh-bagged stash of field snacks. My fingers found the smooth cold packet of an energel. I retrieved it, and snapped it to my chest, weak from the effort. The strain of hanging sideways was difficult to endure.
I did not have the heart to leave Jake with nothing. I had already done enough of that. I bumped the alu-glass toggle. The holo-screen disappeared, and the alu-glass showed Jake’s face only a few feet from mine. He started back, and almost fell from his precarious handhold. Then, his eye contact was intense. His usual smirk was nowhere to be seen.
“Aki,” he beseeched me. “Shut down. Please.” When I only stared, he slapped the glass with his hand.
Ah. Command had sent him to drive the Grendel back. No one else in Shinchaw had the rating. He wouldn’t be able to drive a Grendel if he kept beating his hand up. I shook my head. With effort, I tore the energel open with my teeth. I slurped the sickly-sweet goo down with a practiced tolerance. Jake’s face was unlike I had ever seen it. I could see the conflict in his eyes, but I knew. While we might be friends, he would follow orders first.
“What are you doing?” He begged. “Please, Aki. Don’t. Just come back. Shinchaw’s over.”
“Get down.” I said. I pointed out, toward the ground.
“No!” Kal screamed. His face twisted. Were those tears? “Motherfucker, you’ll have to crush me.”
His desperation drove shards of glass into my conscience. But only for a moment.
“Get down, Jake,” I said again. I pointed once more. I did my best to convey with my eyes that I would indeed rise to his challenge. He had known me far too long to believe it, though.
“Aki.” Long moments passed. So I reached for another energel. Might as well get my glucose back up while I could. “Hellhound, you’re not gonna make it on that. Wherever you’re going. You’re going to run yourself to death. Fuck, you’re almost dead already!”
I must look a sight.
“Get down,” I said again. I tore the second energel open. Orange. Nobody liked orange.
“I won’t.” He gave me a stubborn scowl. I pitched the still full energel packet at him. A splat of goo smeared on the alu-glass. Fucking orange. He grimaced. “There’s nothing out here, brother. The direction you’re heading, there’s even less. Shut down. I swear on all the Gods of Man, you’re safe if you just come back now. I swear. They know. No one could handle Shinchaw. None of us. Please!”
He was trying to keep my focus by continuing to talk. I saw bodies moving to my flanks in the holo-screens. They were going to try to hammer me. Jake noticed my realization.
“Aki,” he warned. “We won’t let anything happen to you. I will not let anything happen to you. I’ll stand in the way my Gods damned self if anyone tries. Let us take you back.”
I slid my hand into my control sleeve.
“Get. Down.” I said. My eyes bored into his.
He sagged.
“You were the best of us, Yeo. If you fall,” he paused. “Well. I spoke too soon, I don’t really want to be crushed by a madman.” There was the snark I was accustomed to. He began to climb down. He snapped back to me for one last addition. “Go with the Gods, brother.” He tapped his chest in salute, then tapped the glass with the same hand. I could see the tracks of tears clearing the Gyantse dust from his face. The last face I would ever see.
I supposed that was a small blessing, considering whose face it would have been had Jake not shown up.
“Go,” I said again. He was already going.
You were the best of us. Go with the Gods.
Those words haunt me to this day.
4 – Liam
I awoke to an irritating click-click. Click-click. My eyes cracked open. Felt like trying to lift flagstones. The noxious sound came from a machine wrapped around my right arm. I tried to protest, but found that a tube down my throat prevented that. My vulgarity emitted as a retch. Fury rose. I started to sit up, tried to reach with my left hand to rip the thing out of my mouth. My arm jerked backward with a clang. It was strapped down. I saw red.
Then a firm hand pressed my chest.
“Easy, Lee.”
I knew that voice. Something deep inside me whimpered in relief. My eyes rolled toward the voice’s owner.
I knew him.
“You’re in KC Trauma,” he said. His green eyes watched my face.
What happened? I wanted to say, but only a ragged sound was able to pass.
“You’ve been under induced coma for about two weeks for transport,” he continued. His hand stayed firm and heavy on my chest. James. I trusted him. More than anyone. More than Aki. More than Aki?
Aki? Where was Aki?
In panic, my eyes darted around the room. I tried to find him. He had to be here. Machines began to beep.
“Hey. Hey. Liam.” James tried to get my attention. He touched my face. I stared at him, beseeching. His eyes were so green.
“You’re safe. I swear,” he continued. “He’s not here. Just me, right now. And Dia’s gone to take a few hours sleep.”
Dia. I wanted to smile. I had not really believed she cared.
The bed creaked as James sat next to me. I realized he looked terrible. Sallow, gaunt, shaken. Circles under his eyes like bruises. I wanted to ask what was wrong, but the godsdamned tube. I gurgled in frustration.
“You’re still there?” James asked. Of course I was. I nodded. “Alright. You usually drift off straight away.” He started to stand up. My left hand was just able to grab his wrist despite being tethered.
“Easy. I’m not leaving. I just needa tell the doc you’re awake.” James laid his hand over mine. “Alright? Only way we can get that tube out.” I realized how tightly I was gripping him. I let go. I nodded. He stood, turned away, then paused. He spun back to me, and leaned close over me, touched his forehead to mine.
“We’re with you. Both of us. I had to force her to go, she was dead on her feet. I’ll be right back, alright?” He stared into my eyes, unblinking. My hand found his wrist again, but this time I squeezed gently. The corner of his mouth turned upward, just a little. I loved when he did that, because he never could do it on purpose, and he never could hide it either. He traced a fingertip down my throat. “I’ll gettem to take that out s’you can bitch em into next year.” He slipped into the slurring Westdown accent he had grown up with.
The doctor came. The tube was removed. I retched again. My dignity, already in tatters, was nonexistent after that.
“Doc?” I croaked.
“Yes, Centurion?” The doctor looked at me dispassionately.
“Fuck you.” It came out as a weak rasp.
“Very good,” the doctor patted me on my shoulder. “The tissue stimulator needs to stay on a few more days, but your arm is healing well, and your ribs are nearly done. You did puncture a lung, but that was sorted early thanks to Centurion Olivieri.” The doctor jerked his head toward James, who would not meet my eye. “We can deal with the cosmetic issues after we’re sure everything is in good working order.”
“Fant-” I coughed. “Fantastic.” Cosmetic issues?
“Anything else?” The doctor asked.
“Yeah,” I wheezed. “What the f-”
James covered my mouth with his hand.
“Just get the fuck out, doctor,” James growled. The doctor shrugged, hit a few buttons on a console, then left.
“He’s been a prick the whole time,” James told me. “Gods of man only know why. Probably your hair.”
“Hand.” I clanked my tether.
“Ah, shit, sorry.” James bent and unbuckled the restraint. Once free, I immediately grabbed his shirt by the collar and hauled him close. He did not seem surprised. Damn.
“Yes, Lee?” He smirked.
I stared at him. I exhaled hard through my nose, looked away. I let go of his collar, then shoved him back gently. He grasped my hand in both of his. He kissed my knuckles, then sat on the side of the bed again.
“What do you remember?” He asked.