I take a look around Med Bay, most specifically at the ceiling. It lacks the access panels to the ducts that we encountered in the maintenance room. In here the vents are tiny, not big enough for anything to drop down. I decide it would take a cutting torch to get to us.
Vel appears to be stable, and the med-bot stands ready, monitoring his vitals. That frees me up to rummage. There’s no point in washing, if I have to put this filthy jumpsuit back on. To my delight I uncover a spare pair of scrubs. If I’m impersonating Doc, I might as well go all the way, right?
Before I hit the shower, I fiddle with the terminal a little. The comm channel doesn’t respond, however, and I can’t reach the ship. Not that I expected to.
It seems insanely mundane to strip down and step into the stall, but why is it better for me to sit around covered in blood? If I go running around the station, looking for March and Jael, I may only succeed in getting myself killed. Plus I leave Vel vulnerable. We’re safe here, and we need to stay that way.
I refuse to do something stupid. At least that’s what I tell myself as I wash up. I’m just being smart. Aren’t I? I can’t sort good sense from cowardice at this point. Guilt weighs me down too much.
One thing’s for sure. I’m beating the shit out of March for putting me through this. When he finds us.
After stepping out of the san-shower, I dress quickly in the castoff clothing. Coming around the partition, I see that Vel has struggled to an upright position. I interpret the clicking of his claws as agitation. The movement slows when he registers my presence. I don’t say anything because I’d freak if he disappeared on me, too.
“You have become a medical professional? How long was I out?”
“Not more than an hour.” I check the med-bot to confirm.
“Any word from the others?” Trust him to strike at the heart of the matter.
“We might be the last people left in the universe for all I know,” I answer quietly. “Nothing on the comm channel; it appears to have been disabled. And I haven’t heard a peep from March or Jael since you passed out.”
“You did a nice job patching me up,” he says, ignoring the rest for the moment.
I shrug. “Anyone could’ve done it. I just followed instructions.”
“Anyone did not.” His rounded eyes glitter as he regards me. I’m used to his natural face now, just wish I could read him better. “You are a constant surprise to me.”
Not sure what he means, if he thought I’d dump his unconscious body, first chance I got. No fucking way—while the Morgut can’t eat him, they can sure as shit kill him. I could spout some shit about responsibility, but it’s more than that. I need to acknowledge it.
“We’re friends,” I say softly. “You’d do the same for me.”
He ignores that as if he doesn’t know what to say. “You look done in, and you must be worried about the others. I will stand watch for a couple hours, Sirantha. Get some rest. When you wake up, we will decide our next step.”
I hope he doesn’t suggest a purge again. I can’t permit that without knowing the fate of the other two. Yet at the same time, I don’t like the thought of what might be growing within Emry’s bowels.
“It seems like we need to head for the systems-control room. See if we can get the bay doors open. We need to warn the others. They can bounce a message to New Terra, explaining the situation and requesting a cleanup crew.”
“Later,” he says with gentle insistence.
“There’s paste in my jumpsuit.” I lie down at last, feeling the tension in my joints pop in celebration.
“I would rather die.”
Though we’re a bit more comfortable now, this occasion reminds me of the cave, where we relied on each other once before. Life or death, no second chances.
I love March, but Vel is something else entirely. He’s one person I’d trust at my back, no questions asked. Funny how that worked out, considering the Corp hired him to hunt me. I relax, and the minute my eyes close, I’m gone.
Darkness wins.
CHAPTER 21
l don’t know how long l’ve been out, but a thump jerks me out of a fitful sleep.
My heart thuds as I take stock of my surroundings: cots, cupboards, various bits of equipment. Right. Med Bay, Emry Station. I find Vel at the workstation, zipping through files that mean nothing to me.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yes,” he answers. “I am trying to get external cameras online, but it is not working. I have no idea who—or what— is out there. And I cannot seem to open the door.” He pauses with certain ironic inflection. “Dr. Solaith.”
“Yeah, well.” I roll off the narrow bed, feeling somewhat better.
Jax? Open the door, baby. It’s me. I’m all right.
A rush of relief nearly deposits me on the floor. I didn’t realize how scared I was until this moment. This silence might have lasted forever. Even as I go to the terminal to deactivate the quarantine, my knees still feel weak.
“Saul Solaith,” I tell the computer. “Requesting override. Access to medical facility now permitted.”
Vel cocks his head at me. “Are you sure?”
I don’t answer. Instead I turn toward the door and key it open to find March there with a small body in his arms. Jael stands a few paces behind, and they both look as though they’ve been to hell and back. I have no idea how he knew I’d be here, but I’m so happy to see him—
“You dick!” Not the first words I thought to speak, but it’s what comes out. “I can’t believe you worried me like that. Thoughtless asshole.”
March shakes his head. “I’ll explain later. Right now, I need to help her.”
That’s when I notice the child’s chest rising and falling. They managed to save someone? A miracle. March heads straight for the med-bot. After he programs it, the droid goes to work on the girl. The tiny little thing can’t be more than four years old. At present, she’s dirty, her hair matted with webs. I can’t tell anything else. Maybe Surge and Kora will foster her.
“March found her.” Jael sounds as if he’s been strangled. He drops down heavily on the cot I just vacated. “Weirdest fragging thing I ever saw. We went through the vents for hours. He’d stop and listen, and then go on again, like he was homing in on her somehow.”
Yes. That’s exactly what he was doing. And why he couldn’t touch base with me. If he stopped focusing on her thoughts, even for an instant, he might’ve lost her. He couldn’t take that risk, particularly not to reassure me. Sure, I was scared shitless, but I was safe, unlike this poor girl. Once again, March proves he’s a bona fide hero. My anger melts away.
“They cocooned her, but the eggs hadn’t hatched yet,” March says then. “She’s terrified, dehydrated, and malnourished. Can’t imagine what it was like for her.”
Vel studies me for a moment. Once he has some time to reflect, he’s going to put the pieces together about March’s ability. I just don’t know what he’ll do about it.
“I’ve been studying the station grid,” the bounty hunter says. “And I’m going to the sys-control room. I’ll open the interior docking door and purge the vents. Then I’ll head back to the ship. We’ll bounce a message out.”
“Are you sure you’re strong enough? Do you need me to go with you?” Just a few hours ago, he passed out on me. But maybe the synth-blood he received provided more of a boost than I realized.
“I can handle this,” Vel assures me. With that, he slips out.
Jael has closed his eyes. He seems inert until his lips curve into a faint smile. “This is the first crew that ever made me feel normal. Thanks.”
That doesn’t seem to require a response, so I cross to March’s side. He watches the little girl with pained tenderness. I get the feeling he doesn’t really see her at this moment. He’s picturing all the people he failed to save. I fucking hate that expression, so grim and bleak. It hurts me just looking at him.
“Is she going to be all right?”
He shrugs. “She has a shot now. That’s more than she had before.”
“Good work out there today.” That seems to register where nothing else has.
“Thanks. You, too. You did exactly as I hoped you would. You got Vel medical attention and kept safe.”
“You scared the shit out of me,” I admit, low.
March turns to me then and pulls me into his arms. I drop my head onto his chest, even though he’s covered in dried blood. “I know. I took my turn, trust me. You must’ve been asleep when I started trying to find you again, Jax. It was like . . .” He pauses, and I know he’s thinking of when Vel took me. When he thought I was dead. “I’m sorry I put you through that, but I couldn’t—”
“I know,” I say softly. “I just thought, well, I was afraid—”
“You didn’t let me down.”
“Do you two ever finish your own sentences?” Jael asks.
Shit, I forgot he is here. If he didn’t look so beat-up, I’d hit him. “Rarely.”
I expect him to make some wisecrack, but he merely says, perhaps a touch wistfully, “Must be nice.”
“It has its moments. I’m going to clean up, Jax. Keep an eye on things for me.” He means the girl.
I nod. “Of course.”
Within a few moments, I hear the san-shower kick in. Until he went quiet, I didn’t realize how much I’d come to count on his presence, wandering in and out of my head. Maybe that sounds crazy, but for a jumper, it’s almost commonplace. I’m used to sharing mind-space.
Time to take a look at our patient. The med-bot hasn’t noted any problems with her vitals. I suspect she received some of the sedative saliva before going in the cocoon. I hope it doesn’t have any lasting detrimental effects on the nervous system or cognitive functions.
Dammit. At this point, I’m considering a crash course in medicine. I search through the database for information. I don’t find anything about the residual effects of the saliva, though, probably because the Morgut tend to digest the evidence.
“Why do you have a Bug with you?”
In a way, I’m glad Jael chooses to ask about Vel. I’d lie for March, just not sure how well. “He’s the bounty hunter the Corp hired to track me down when they were trying to pin the Sargasso crash on me. Fortunately, Vel respects the truth more than a payday. Plus they pissed him off when they tried to fry him.”
“I guess that would do it,” he agrees without opening his eyes. “It was rough up there. They snapped us up in a web, pulled us into the ducts, but March still had the blade in hand, so we cut our way out.”
“There were more?” I’m not sure if I really want to know.
“We killed six up top,” he says.
“You’re a lot tougher than you look.” Duh. I pulled something out of his gut and felt him heal. That may be the stupidest thing I’ve ever said.