Chapter 398 (1/2)
My vision was blurred, my hands shaking, a ringing in my ears, and it was hard to breathe when we pulled into the refugee point just as dawn was breaking. In the distance the sky glowed with the violence of combat, flashes of atomic weaponry lighting up the dawn, outshining the sun, every few minutes. The ash was thick raining down from the sky, full of heavy metals and worse, my tank's scanners full of fuzz and distortion.
Mal-Kar brought the tank in and lowered it to the ground before turning off the hover fans.
The forward starboard fan made a clanging noise as it slowly wound down.
All three of my faithful crew were staggering as we climbed out of the tank. My vision kept going grey, shot with static, and at first I thought it was my helmet, that perhaps the Terran molycircs had failed.
No.
It was my eyes, my brain.
I stumbled twice before I found myself supported between two Terrans in body armor.
”Easy now, Most High, we've got you,” the one on the right said. The first un-synthesized voice I had heard from a Terran. It was soft, gentle, but I still didn't know if it was male or female.
”Need to reload the tank. Go back out,” I mumbled. My cast thumped against the tarmac.
”Let's get him to medical. Can you understand what he's saying?” the other one asked.
”He's asking about his tank,” the first one answered.
”You're tank's good. The mechanics will have it fixed right up by the time you get done with medical,” one promised.
”There's more civilians. They need rescued,” I mumbled.
We pushed into the medical tent. I shuddered at the contents. Injured people, some missing limbs, sobbing in pain as Terran doctors, the young filly, and the Matron moved through them, giving medical care where they could.
”Put him in sling seven,” one of the Terrans said, pointing.
”There's still more out there. Just give me a stim,” I said softly as the Terrans put me in the sling.
The Matron moved up, clicking her tongue in disapproval. She ran the scanner over me and her tendrils curled.
I struggled feebly against the sling, then went limp, exhausted. The front of my lower abdomen burned and ached, I couldn't catch my breath. She attached an IV line to my foreleg and another to my arm, shaking her head the entire time.
A Terran moved up in body armor, stopping next to the Matron. ”Diagnosis?”
I expected the Matron to speak out loud, instead she just showed the dataslate to the doctor.
”Just patch me up, I need to get out there,” I mumbled, looking up for a moment before looking back down, exhausted.
”You let us worry about that,” the doctor said. He reached out and touched the complex device under the bag of simple saline water. It beeped and flashed a few lights. He turned to the Matron. ”Tell his men it's just treatment for exhaustion and stimulant overdose.”
The Matron nodded and trotted away. The doctor looked at me.
”Your mid-body heart is failing. Another hour and you would have started dying,” he said. He put his hand on my armored forehead. ”We're going to get you out of that armor, then I'm going to start working.”
”There are others more wounded than me,” I said, looking over at a HiKruth juvenile missing the legs on his right side. ”What about him?”
”He's fine. He needs some regen time or a cloned tissue replacement,” the doctor said. ”You worry about you, Most High.”
I tried to object, but the dark pulled me down.
-------------------
I had expected to be unconscious for days, perhaps weeks, receiving treatment, but I woke up after less than fourteen hours, pulled to wakefulness by the dull roar and echoing rumble of an atomic detonation nearby.
Feelmeenta sat next to my bed, her arm in a sling, a patch covering her eye with black durachrome around the patch. When I raised my head she looked up at me, giving me a pleased expression.
”Welcome back, Most High,” she smiled.
My head hurt and my chest felt weird, like it was packed with cotton.
”Get me out of this sling,” I said, reaching for the buckles but finding my hands too clumsy and numb to do much more than fumble at the latches.
Feelmeenta shook her head. ”No can do. The Terrans were very specific that you spend another six hours in that sling while the quikheal takes hold.”
”But the civilians,” I started to say.
”Where you led, others have followed,” she told me. She put one hand on my paper gown covered flank. ”The Terrans are helping with the effort.”
The led to me sagging in the sling and beginning to weep.
My failure was complete.
Feelmeenta put her hand on my flank again. ”It's OK, Most High. It's OK.”
I went to sleep again, the drugs pulling me back under and back to sleep.
---------------
I woke up again, feeling the fuzziness of the anesthetic retreat slightly. My muscles felt better, no longer aching. My joints no longer felt like they were filled with a dull burning fire. My chest and lower abdomen no longer ached and my breathing came easy.
”How are you feeling?” Mal-Kar asked me from where he was sitting on an ammo can next to my sling.
”Better,” I said. I swallowed thickly. ”Water?”
Mal-Kar nodded, holding up a brown pitcher with a straw in it. ”It's citrus flavored. Go slow.”
I wanted to gulp it all down. It tasted amazing, better than anything I had ever tasted. The bite of the citrus seemed to clear the thick gummy taste from my mouth, wash away the strange taste of some kind of berry or fruit that I'd never tasted before.
I was only allowed three swallows before Mal-Kar pulled it back.
”How... how long?” I asked.
”Twenty hours,” he told me. ”The humans, the Terrans, have landed in force. They're driving the Precursors back across all fronts. Most High A'armo'o has ordered the Great Herd to interlock with the Terrans until further notice,” he wiped his hands on the paper jumpsuit he wore over his mechanic's coveralls. ”We're seeing less deserters.”
”That's good,” I said. I blinked, aware that only four of my eyes seemed to work.
Mal-Kar shrugged. ”Means anyone not willing to fight is dead, ran away, or the officers got neural prods.”
The doctor pushed in, the Matron looking around him. Again, I was struck how a Terran could be taller than me yet give the impression of being short and squat, despite the fact that he was lean enough to remind me of the knives carried by the bangers in the hab I'd grown up in.
”Good, you're awake. Your neural scans look good, but lets check for memory loss or any other neural defects,” the doctor said.
The testing took only a few minutes. A few passes with a scanner, a few questions, looking into all four of my eyes and my ears and up my nose. He tested my feeding tendril response, nodding slowly.
”All right, I'm going to turn on your two new eyes. They're Terran cybernetics, but they've been proven to work just fine for your people,” he said. ”They'll feel weird.”
”Do we have time for me to be able to use the eyes?” I asked.
”Shouldn't take more than an hour or so for them to fully synch up. Most of the work was done while you were asleep,” he said.
”Doctor...” the Matron said.
”I know. Just a few more minutes, I'd like to have his implants working,” the doctor said.
My vision suddenly came back on my left rear arc. The logo ”SYNTEK CYBERNETIC DIVISION” popped up then faded.
”Blink for me,” he said. I did so and he nodded. ”Focus on Nurse Cha'apehl,” he said, pointing at the Matron. I did so. ”OK, follow the light,” he moved a light around. ”All right. It's a non-cosmetic version. You can get it replaced by a cosmetic version or bioware implant later,” he straightened up. ”He can be released afterwards,” he told the Matron. ”Send him in.”
The Matron nodded and Mal-Kar stood up.
”I should go,” my faithful crewman said.