Chapter 5 - Berserk
Berserk
“What happens if the hull doesn’t get fixed?”
Vee voices the question that’d been circulating in my head as we pass signs of the micrometeorite swarm being fixed by small, efficient droids—dents in bulkheads from loose fixtures and the like.
We’d been following the captain to the medical bay, and I’d been too scared to ask.
The Midas is extremely well-built, and the internal damage isn’t extreme, though I suspect that some excellent piloting is partly why.
Tanisira glances back at us, making a point to make eye contact with me, before asking, “Are you sure you want to know?”
It sounds light-hearted, but I know what she’s doing—the question is really for me.
Do I want Vee to know? It could scare him, worry him, making him anxious.
I bite my lip as I think about it. I make a point to foster honesty in my relationship with Vee.
It’s how I wish my own parents had treated me instead of relying on white lies and omission.
My knee buckles, and I lurch forward. Both Tanisira and Vee throw out a hand and catch me by the elbows as I manage to right myself.
Extracting myself with not a little embarrassment, I send Vee a reassuring smile.
He’s so used to it that his reflexes are way more developed than they should be.
I needn’t have worried; he looks fine, even rolls his eyes.
Sometimes I’m hit with such strong love for him that it literally hurts.
I nod my approval to Tanisira, disregarding what just happened, and she follows my lead. Instead of commenting on my near accident, she waves Vee forward until he falls into step beside her.
“Over time, dents in the hull would lead to the erosion of its ability to function properly. That’s loss of water, protection from radiation, heat, and corrosion.”
Vee chews on his lip, eyes wide. “But we’re safe?”
“We’re safe for now, but the damages need to be looked at. We lost some sensors that leave the ship without its full range of capabilities, which is why it’s taking Kit so long to catalogue everything.”
“You’re not panicking. That doesn’t sound good. Why aren’t you panicking?’ I say, panicking a little myself.
She shrugs. “I don’t panic until I’ve exhausted every possible option.”
My gulp is so loud, I think she must hear it. “Right,” I reply nervously.
The idea that the safety of the ship, and everyone on board, is literally on her shoulders is a strong shock to my already overtaxed system. It even manages to muscle aside my appreciation for her competence.
The door to the medical bay slides open as we approach.
The room is spacious, with two beds against the far bulkhead.
On either side is a large, comfortable chair and above the footbed of each is a holo-hub.
Across from these is a wall of open medical lockers, one of them spilling bandages like guts.
And in the corner of the bay, a woman is bent over a sink, washing her hands.
She straightens and the overhead lighting illuminates dark circles under her blue eyes, her clothing wrinkled.
She’s a little taller than me, with pale, almost translucent, skin and auburn hair twisted up in a sloppy bun.
“The damage?” the captain asks, her voice quiet and tense.
The woman shakes her head, shoving her hands into her pockets as she comes to a stop before us. “Not bad, just many. Small lacerations, bruises, concussions. No one was seriously hurt.”
It would be impossible not to take note of the sudden tautness in Tanisira’s body, the long line of it snapping into place like a tripwire. She swears under her breath, a curse that I don’t know the meaning of, but it’s guttural, a sharp contrast to the usual melody of her native tongue.
The medic frowns at her. “That’s nothing compared to what would have happened if you hadn’t made those manoeuvres so expertly.”
Her accent is faintly Scottish, the consonants smoothed over by time away from home, I imagine.
Tanisira doesn’t seem to accept that the casualties were a foregone conclusion of coming across a swarm; she shakes her head as if to dismiss the argument.
She clears her throat and places a hand on the small of my back.
I startle at the touch, but Tanisira isn’t even looking at us. It’s like she switched on autopilot.
“Khrys, this is Vee’s mother, Marlowe. Marlowe, our medical officer.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I smile.
“Likewise. That’s a nasty shiner you’ve got there.” She nods at my face. “That’s not from today.”
It’s not a question, so I don’t answer. By now, my bruises are a motley collection of dark colours. They’re sore to the touch—which I do often because who can resist? —but not causing me any trouble.
“Could you check her over, please?” Tanisira asks, distracted.
Khrys trails a clinical gaze down my body before snapping back up. “Hop up on the bed.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine. Honestly. I wouldn’t want to—”
“On the bed,” she says, turning away and heading to a glove dispenser. She is surprisingly firm. Small on top, big on the bottom—Khrys looks like a pin-up girl.
She calls over her shoulder as I obey orders out of equal parts respect, enthrallment and exhaustion. “Is Vee hurt?”
“Unbruised as a peach,” he replies with a twang, grinning.
It shocks a laugh out of me, which then shocks a whimper out of me. Khrys narrows her eyes at my gasp as she pulls on a pair of blue gloves.
“Where did you hear that?” I ask Vee. He does often pick up things that no ten-year-old says naturally, but I’ve not heard that one before.
“Dad’s girlfriend—” He freezes, mouth snapping shut. I also freeze, although my mouth falls open instead.
“Dad’s what?”
Vee grimaces. “He told me not to say anything because he wanted to tell you.”
My heart clenches painfully. I don’t care that the son of a bitch has a girlfriend; I care that he’s making a liar out of my son. We’re honest with each other. Always. Vee must see the hurt in me because he steps forward, hesitant, before dropping his chin.
“I didn’t want to keep it from you, but he said he had to be the one to tell you.”
The sneaky fucking bastard. We don’t agree on much, but one of the things Dominik and I had negotiated was that we wouldn’t bring new partners around Vee until it was a serious relationship.
Our boy is tough, but he loves with all his heart, and it would be unfair to have a revolving door of semi-strangers in his life.
Something red hot slithers through my veins.
And we’re back to: I will fucking kill him.
Thankfully, Khrys interrupts before I can say anything more. “A discussion for later, maybe,” she says. “You keep wincing, and I want to check you out immediately to make sure there’s no internal bleeding.”
Frustrated and tight-lipped, I tilt my head towards the bench in the corner. Vee goes easily, sinking into his game quickly but anxiously, his foot tapping the deck jerkily.
“Take this off,” Khrys says, tapping the hem of my tee. “Do you need help?”
She has to intervene because I can’t lift my arms, something that alarms both her and Tanisira.
When I’m sitting in my flimsy bra, any shyness I might have felt evaporates immediately; they both look aghast. Tanisira’s face darkens with emotion and I look down to find my entire torso purpling.
My dark skin hides the worst of it, but the rough outline of a harness is painted onto my chest. When the bruising fully develops, I’ll be absolutely mottled.
The sound that comes out of the captain’s throat is strangled, and she steps back, her jaw clenched.
“It’s okay, really. It doesn’t hurt that much.”
Khrys shoots me an incredulous look. “Define ‘that much’?”
I tell her how hard breathing is, and then I end up telling her about all my aches and pains collectively.
I keep it to the damage I’ve sustained since crawling onto this godforsaken ship.
It’s easier than the alternative, which is just too vulnerable for me right now.
The last thing I want to do is subject myself to scepticism and infantilisation.
Over Khrys’s shoulder, I watch Tanisira’s body become increasingly wound up.
If looks could kill, anything south of my chin would wither away right now.
But then Khrys starts prodding around, and even though it’s gentle, I cry out.
That seems to be the last straw. Tanisira turns on her heel and goes to sit stiffly beside Vee, head angled away from me.
Whilst Khrys starts rummaging around, I work on tamping down my anger until it’s about as compact as a coin and slot it away; a habit that was socialised into me.
There is no point—absolutely none—in expressing my anger right now and I would hate to upset Vee more.
It’s not his fault, of course he listened to his father.
I start to wonder what else Dominik might have convinced Vee to hide from me, but slam the door shut on that thought.
Instead, I look over at the two hunched in the corner.
Vee is no longer jittering and now shows Tanisira his console.
A large yawn escapes from me, cracking my jaw in the process. I cannot wait to go to bed. With Vee back, I’m due a truly epic nap.
When Khrys is done patching me up, I’m wrapped from collarbone to hip in bandages. I look like a half-arsed Egyptian mummy.
“This is the latest advancement in Meditech. I’ve applied a salve to your injuries that will speed up the initiation of healing and should have you feeling better in a few hours.
It requires an elevated temperature, hence the bandages to trap your body heat.
You won’t be fully healed, mind, but you’ll be functional. ”
“When do I take them off?”
“Give it about three hours for your skin to absorb the salve. Try not to exert yourself whilst it’s working, or you’ll just stall the process. It’s not magic, so help it along by resting.”