MAIDEN, page 39
Markon leaned back. “We’ll keep her sedated until the unit cleans out the socket. Takes half a day, maybe. We’ll have to dig out what it misses, but we’ll figure that tomorrow.” He wiped his hands on a towel.
Lips turned down, Medical Drone shook his head. “I could have done so much good with just half of this...”
Markon faced Crystal. “The swelling in her fingers has gone down. You did a good job splinting them.”
“Will her fingertaps work?”
He grimaced. “Hard to tell. Whoever stomped her hands did a bang-up job. I think she’ll be lucky to move them normally again.”
Crystal lowered the mask. “She’s a builder. She needs her fingers.”
“We’ll do what we can, but...” He glanced about at the clearly primitive equipment.
Styze checked the console at the foot of the next cot, where the man known as High Drone lay on his stomach. Heavy sedation kept him unconscious. Wires ran from the console to a module spread across the base of his neck. His head rested on an oval pillow with an opening for his face, so his neck remained straight.
Crystal nodded in his direction. “What about him?” She raised the mask to her face again. The cool, fresh air chased the last of the smoke residue from her lungs.
Markon and Medical Drone turned. “Only time’ll tell,” Markon said. “He’d already fractured his neck. Didn’t do himself any favors falling backward like that.”
Medical Drone touched the dark bronze chord across the back of his scalp. Bruises darkened his skin. Stitches kept the red edges of a gash together. “Wasn’t exactly his fault.”
“I know. Let’s hope for the best. He was moving his arms after the fall. That’s a positive sign.”
Crystal studied Markon’s face. If what she’d heard was true, he was the one who’d pulled Cllaw’s interface free. Doing so nearly killed everyone aboard the nodeship. Only heroic efforts allowed the two known as Minionkeeper Drone and Third Drone to dock the Cllaw with the T’renn before the nodeship’s batteries ran dry. Not entirely without damage, but the lockway had held.
Later, Markon explained he’d done what needed to be done, and damn the consequences. Hearing what Cllaw had unleashed upon the Nomnen and its crew, she decided his actions made sense. Had he not snuck into a vacuum suit and joined Cllaw’s army of drones rushing to the primary watch deck...
The drones might very well have finished what the knight and the lone minion had started.
Sydren lay on the cot across from High Drone, a module clamped to his stump. Despite being sedated as well, he twitched and moaned. Sweat wet his brow and dampened his shirt. A strap held his arm by his side.
“It’s a clean cut,” Markon had said. “Should heal well enough.”
Crystal wondered how Sydren would react when he recovered.
“Attention. Initiating docking maneuvers,” Third Drone announced, the nodeship shuddering as it slowed. His voice came from speakers high on the bulkhead. “Crystal Maiden, please report to the primary docking bay.”
She laid her mask on the cot, peeled the probe from her fingertip, and stood. “That’s my cue.” She grabbed her sleeved blade.
“Do you need an escort?” Medical Drone asked.
“I’ll find my way.” She departed.
The nodeship shuddered a last time, then stopped.
The lockway had extended to the Besk by the time she arrived in the docking bay. Nate and Tyzee waited with Minionkeeper Drone. All three carried blades and unpowered electroprods.
She drew Crystem. “I don’t expect trouble, but stay ready, just in case.”
“As you wish,” Minionkeeper Drone said.
The lock hissed open. At the lockway’s far end, blue lights flashed. She walked to the yacht’s hatch and banged it with Crystem’s hilt.
The lock opened.
Yrten squinted in the light. “Finally! You got our message?”
“Message? No. Minionkeeper Drone said you were adrift out here. We came to see if anyone was still alive.” She stepped aside. “The T’renn’s in no condition to receive messages, and we need crew.”
He entered the lockway. “Who—?” He peered down the lockway. “ Never mind. I’ll find out soon enough.”
Rysha, behind him, giggled. “The effort was still impressive.”
“Just don’t tell Prame I ruined his medi-chair for nothing.” He walked down the lockway. Rysha followed.
Crystal raised her blade to the chest of the older woman next in line. Bruises darkened her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. “Not you, Milady. You remain. You and Bredner.” She poked Crystem into her chest.
Lady Ympress deThau yelped and danced back. She rubbed at the spot of blood on her shirt. “What— What do you mean I stay?”
The man behind her shoved her aside. “Means you can rot here,” he said.
“You can’t do this!” She leaned into the lockway. “Yrten! Honey!”
But if Yrten heard, he chose not to answer.
“Sorry, Ympress.” Crystal shoved her back onto the yacht. “You played your hand and lost.”
“But-but I—”
The rest of those on the yacht filed past her. Few met Crystal’s gaze.
An older man stopped at the hatch. “We have an injured man here.”
“Quoll. Is he conscious? Can he stand?”
“With help.”
“Help him, then.”
The old man disappeared back inside.
Ympress stepped to the hatch. “You can’t do this! You have no authority here! I demand to speak to my husband!”
Crystal jabbed her in the chest again. “Here’s my authority. As for Lord deThau, he’s beyond listening to your pathetic whine.”
A man gently grabbed Ympress’s arm. Crystal recognized him as the older man sitting at the consoles before she and Sydren had traveled through the slipring. Bredner.
“Come, Milady. Don’t provoke her.”
She shrugged off his hand. “Don’t tell me what to do. Listen, you.” She pointed a finger in Crystal’s direction. “Back off. I’m walking down that lock—”
Crystal stabbed Crystem into her stomach. “You go nowhere, Milady.” She pushed Ympress off her blade.
Ympress gasped. Her cheeks lost color. She clutched at her wound. Spreading blood darkened her shirt.
Bredner lowered her to a sitting position. “Easy. Easy.”
The older man reappeared, supporting the man who’d lost an eye to Scrounger. Splints hugged his hands. “Come, Quoll. Step onto the lockway. That’s it.”
Moaning, the big man struggled.
Crystal moved aside to let them pass. Someone came down the lockway to help.
“Prame.” Ympress cried with little breath. “Don’t... leave...”
Prame glanced back. “Sorry, Milady. I-I have other responsibilities.” He sounded near tears.
Hands to her belly, Ympress closed her eyes and slumped over. One heel kicked the deck plating. Bredner looked up.
“Tell... whoever survived, I’m sorry.”
Crystal put her hand to the lockplate. “I’ll pass along your regrets.” She sealed the hatch, leaving them in darkness.
57
YRTEN HESITATED at the lock to his brother’s cabin, then rapped his knuckles on the cool metal.
“Come in.” Sydren’s reply came after a hesitation as well.
Yrten pressed the lockplate and entered.
The cabin was small, with barely enough room for the bunk built into the bulkhead. A padded bench sat opposite a column of drawers, each also built into the bronze metal walls. A lightpad cast feeble illumination—same as in the passageway. Cool air blew from vents along the floor.
Sydren sat on the bench, wearing only undertunics, his feet bare. Blood dotted the gauze at his elbow where his IV had been. His left hand cradled the squat cylindrical healing disc over his right wrist. Lights blinked at its base, mostly blues but a few whites. He kneaded his forearm with his remaining hand.
Yrten didn’t think his brother had slept at all since leaving Medical the day before. “How..?”
“I’m... My blade. Chorse.” He kept his gaze on the disc. “It’s still in my hand. And I’m holding it so... tight.”
Yrten remained by the lock. “We found Chorse. Minionkeeper Drone’s keeping it secure. You can claim it when you want.” And your hand. But Markon says too much time has passed to re-attach it. We’ll have to re-grow it. Somehow.
“And Father’s blade?”
“That, too.” He huffed. All the words he meant to say caught in his throat.
Sydren finally raised his gaze. In the dim light, the smudges beneath his eyes looked permanent. “Father threw himself in the knight’s way. To give me an opening. With our eyes the way... from the lightbomb, you see...” He shuddered and lowered his head. “I tried. I tried, but the knight was so... He was too quick, and big...” His last word emerged as a whisper.
Yrten crouched at his brother’s feet. “Sydren.” He gripped the disc. Sydren’s shoulders twitched. But he knew Sydren felt little pain. Markon programmed the disc to handle that. “Crystal says you wouldn’t have stood a chance against the knight even if you could fully see. Even with Father at your side. Learning a maiden’s fighting style is one thing. Going up against a knight...” He shook his head.
“But Nate, Tyzee... They could see.”
“Wouldn’t have made a difference either. She’s adamant about it.”
Sydren raised his gaze. He lifted his shoulders in the slightest of shrugs. “Then I guess I’m lucky to have come out of this with only...” He raised his arm.
Yrten ignored his brother’s tone. “Yes. You are.”
Sydren scoffed. “Unlike Father.”
“Father gave his life in the best way he thought possible. It’s pretty clear he knew your chances. I think he did well by his actions.” He touched the disc again. “You’re alive, and that counts for a lot.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
“Maybe in time you’ll come to appreciate what Father did.”
“You’re assuming we’ll have that long.”
Yrten stood. “We’ve stabilized the station. Crystal returned the Sibly’s interface and more drindi sticks. They’ll buy us a couple more days. Should be long enough. Between the food on the Cllaw, Crystal’s stash, and what we recovered off the Besk, we won’t starve, at least.”
“Long enough for what?”
“I’m fixing the Eosus. Raiding the Sibly for what I need—thrusters, sensors, nav-packs. Rysha’s helping. When I can get Eosus up and running, we’ll transfer Crystal’s pod onto the Cllaw. She insists we’re not leaving without it.” Exhaling, he ran a hand through his hair. “I feel bad stripping parts off the Sibly again, but... And hey! Can you believe that was nodeship all this time? Scrounger was protecting an infant brethren?”
“Father always thought there was something odd about that ship.”
“Another thing my mother got wrong.”
Sydren looked up. “She has a lot to answer for.”
“Yes.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against a bulkhead. His eyes watered. He blinked them clear. I’ll not waste any more of myself on her. “She’s probably... Well, Crystal said she stabbed Mother pretty deep. So by now...”
“I’m sorry. You have my sympathies. You and Rysha.”
“That’s how she made me... All this time. She threatened to harm Rysha unless I did as she demanded. You know I wouldn’t have abandoned you and Father if I thought— Him and you and Nate and the others had the Sibly. I knew leaving you wasn’t a death sentence. I just—”
Sydren raised his hand. “It’s okay. Ympress was... driven. She held onto her beliefs. A couple hours’ difference and she might’ve even succeeded.”
Yrten forced slow, steady breaths. It was not okay, wouldn’t be okay for a long time. But god damn if he wouldn’t salvage something good out of this.
“Nate and Tyzee understand, too. They’re still shaken up, though. We all are, I think. Could use you on the primary watch deck, you know?”
Sydren’s eyebrows rose. “What?” He scoffed and raised his stump. “You’ll have to do better than me.”
“We need you. Minionkeeper Drone’s doing all right, but he admits he’s way out of his depth here. Been a puppet of Cllaw for so long, he’s just not sure of himself. He even wants to leave the keys to the Repository behind.”
“The what?” Sydren jerked to the edge of the bench.
Yrten smiled. Thought that’d get your attention. “The keys to the Repository. Cllaw took them off Nomnen. Right before it used those fancy hot tube weapons that’re mounted on the hull to blow Nomnen up.”
“We have the keys to the Repository? From Nomnen?”
“Down in the Cllaw’s minion service bay. All five. And Minionkeeper Drone wants to leave them behind. He’s afraid of them.”
Sydren rose. “No! That’s the stupidest idea ever!”
“That’s what I said. What Crystal says.”
“Why doesn’t Crystal take command? She knows what’s at stake here.”
“She says she’s not built for that. Said you’d understand.”
Sydren opened his mouth as though to rebut, then closed it. He cradled his arm to his chest. After a moment, he said, “She’s right. She’s not built to lead.”
“None of the other drones are up to it. Markon might give it a whirl, but I don’t think he has our best interests in mind.” He shrugged. “That kinda leaves you.” He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We need you, Sydren. We got this far. I’d hate to see all that effort and sacrifice wasted.”
“We can’t go home still. We need to find somewhere to lie low for a bit, lick our wounds.”
“Crystal might have an idea or two on that. And she’s antsy about hanging out here. As soon as we get her pod transferred, we’re gone. But all this waiting... She could sure use you about now. Ever seen an antsy maiden?”
“Hmm.” He frowned. “Get rid of the keys to the Repository? What the hell is he thinking?”
Yrten opened a drawer. “You have any clean clothes in here?” He looked through the plain worksuits stacked inside.
“That’s all High Drone’s stuff. Mine’s... Guess it’s still on the station.”
“And your boots?” He checked the deck plating.
“In the storage space beneath the bunk. I’ll get them.”
“Want a robe, or do you not mind walking around in your skivvies?”
“These are High Drone’s too.” Sydren waved. “I’m sure everyone saw worse when they cut off my clothes in Medical.”
“There’s plenty of hot water on the station. And Markon says it’s okay to shower with that.”
Sydren glanced at the disc. He seemed surprised he was still cradling it in his hand, and let it fall to his side. “Yeah, well...”
“Tyzee’s offered to help with things. Until you get the hang of... well, you know.”
“I’ll... let her know.”
“Want an escort?”
Sydren didn’t exactly smile, but Yrten saw the change in his expression. “Let me dress and grab my boots.”
58
CRYSTAL ENTERED Medical. Down the row of bunks, Medical Drone and Markon were helping High Drone stand. A brace encircled his neck. But the old man was on his feet now, talking and walking about. Minionkeeper Drone would be relieved. As would Sydren.
Scrounger sat on the edge of her bunk, the first in the row. She too watched the activity, but turned when light from the passageway behind Crystal fell across her. Her socket was empty, the wound’s cleaning complete. Glue held her eyelids together.
Since she had a chord, Markon was confident when she returned to her sphere, the new brethren in charge there would allow her the use of a prosthetic. Might take months, but she’d be able to ‘see’ out of that socket again.
As for her hands...
The nodeship shuddered as it skirted toward the sliprings. An hour, maybe less, and they’d be away.
Crystal stepped beside her. “The couch is ready.” She offered her hand.
Scrounger rose, swayed, then found her balance. She wore plain undertunics and rubber-soled slippers. Dark smudges underlined her eyes. Bruises marked where kicks had landed. She kept her hands together, fingers bent, over her chest.
“You look good,” Crystal said.
“The hot shower was welcome,” she whispered.
“Have you eaten?”
She shook her head. “Let’s go.”
Crystal remained by Scrounger’s side the entire walk to the Cllaw’s minion service bay, where her cargo pod awaited in a corner, out of the way. Cables connected it to the nodeship’s network. It and the nodeship were about the same age, but her pod was far more sophisticated.
In the opposite corner, Yrten and Rysha worked on the recovered skiff, Eosus. Sparks flew as Rysha welded. Yrten watched closely, his good hand massaging the splint over his other wrist. Both wore tinted goggles and protective gear. A burned ozone smell hung in the air. Across from them, Minionkeeper Drone tinkered with a chunk of equipment in clamps—might’ve been the remnants of Cllaw’s last minion, which hadn’t gone flying from the workbay as she’d hoped.
She opened the pod’s hatch, let Scrounger pass, then closed it. The interior lights illuminated to half power. The hibernation couch’s lamps and ops panel brightened the gloom. Her armor and Crystem hung in their chargers. Closing the hatch shut out the Cllaw’s discordant song, allowing her to hear her pod’s more soothing whispers.
Scrounger undressed, then slid onto the couch.
Crystal stood at the opening as her friend settled. “You’re sure?”
“I... I need this.” Still whispering.
“You cannot sleep your problems away.”
“I know. But... I’m just... so exhausted.” Her eye watered. She wiped it.
“Then you shall have your rest, my dear Scrounger.” She administered the anesthetic Markon had prepared. “You’ll be asleep before the hibernation gel fills the chamber. That’s for the best.”
