Overload Flux Read online

  She smelled dirt, a mix of plants, plascrete dust, various unknown chemicals, metal, and her own scent, ripe with sweat and blood, some of which wasn’t her own. She tried moving her shoulder and hip and found she could without shifting whatever was on top of her, which smelled metallic. She had no idea how long she’d been there. She struggled to regain her sense of time.

  Last she remembered, the flitter’s beamer was arcing down toward the building. She’d calculated she had only a few thousand milliseconds before it sliced into the corner where the negligent merc squad had stored their thermobarics, and a few more thousand milliseconds before the beam’s energy ignited the whole stack. She’d taken a running leap off the building’s roof into the shrubs and rolled when she hit the ground to channel her momentum. She’d just come up running when the shockwave threw her forward, out of control, and... nothing.

  She concluded she’d been hit in the head, and that it was likely she was buried under debris. She’d been lucky, and hoped Luka, madman that he was to manually shoot down a flitter with a ship-killer, had shared her luck. Jerzi and Haberville had been farther away, so perhaps they escaped relatively unscathed, at least enough so that they could see to Luka and find her.

  With some painful maneuvering, she got her left arm free enough so she could touch her face and neck, trying to see if the earwire had survived the impact. She couldn’t reach it and had no room to turn her head, so she excavated the dirt under her face, which stirred up enough dust to make her sneeze, causing sharp pain in her cracked ribs and pounding in her head. After all that, all she found was abraded and bloody skin along her jaw where the wire used to be.

  She rested, breathing as shallowly as she could until the dust settled. Even with that bit of exertion, the heat was oppressive. She was in a poor position to get any leverage to move whatever was on top of her. With some painful twisting and maneuvering, she managed to get her last remaining knife out of her right ankle sheath. They’d been good knives. She’d miss them.

  Just as she was considering where to dig and where to put the dirt she’d have to move, she thought she heard voices. It was hard to tell with the constant ringing, but she cut off her awareness of it and tried to listen in the between tones.

  She thought she heard her name called, and it alarmed her that she couldn’t tell if it was Luka’s voice calling. Reversing the knife in her hand, she tried pounding the pommel into the metal above her three times, then waiting five seconds and repeating. She could hardly hear it, but the painful vibration in her hand convinced her she was making all the noise she could.

  Time was still slippery, and she’d lost track of the number of repetitions she’d pounded by the time the metal was lifted off her. She was blinded by the sunlight. Her eyes started to water when she heard Luka’s voice asking where she was hurt, then calling for Jerzi. She felt rather than saw him kneel beside her.

  “Head hurts… hearing loss,” she managed to croak. When the involuntary tears subsided and she could finally see again, she was relieved that Luka looked more or less intact, and Jerzi the same, though he sported an incipient black eye and his chest was coated in wet grime. She smelled Luka’s unique scent and something more.

  “You’re bleeding,” she said, her voice sounding like gravel.

  “So are you,” he said with a small, worried smile, gently smoothing her hair back from her face. “Can you sit up?”

  When she nodded, he took the knife from her hand and helped her up, then because she insisted, helped her get to her feet.

  As near as she could tell, she’d been covered by a piece of the flitter, which had protected her from the thermobaric fireball. Although the side of her head and neck felt wet, she didn’t feel too bad until she turned her head too fast. Then dizziness caused her to tip sideways and almost take Luka down with her.

  “Taktu það rólega… easy,” said Luka, holding the side of her hip and pulling her close to him for support.

  For once, she was content to stand with him awhile, letting his solid strength soothe the worries and panic she’d been trying not to think about. Somehow they were both still alive. Again.

  “The mercs?” she asked Jerzi, who was hovering anxiously in front of her. The thick grime on his armor and clothes looked like a mixture of mud and soot. His railgun was strapped across his back, and his pocket had at least one ammo pack sticking out.

  “Dead, or as good as. The building fell down while we were looking for you.” His voice sounded nasal, and his nose looked crooked, like it might have been broken. “The light-drive ship took one beamer shot and was hit by some debris. Eve’s in there now. She’ll have to tell us if it’ll fly.”

  She looked up to Luka, moving slowly this time. “She needs personal security.”

  Luka nodded, but didn’t take his eyes off her. “Jerzi, go find Eve. The high oxygen hasn’t been easy on her. I’ll help Mairwen.” He tightened his arm around her hips.

  Jerzi took off at a half run. Mairwen was glad he was young and resilient, and wished to hell she didn’t feel like she was a hundred and fifty years old. The sun position looked unchanged, so she’d likely been unconscious for only a minute or two, and she guessed it had taken them ten minutes to find and unearth her from her resting place. She didn’t feel very rested.

  As they walked, she saw Jerzi hadn’t exaggerated about the building. Only the southern wall was left standing, and it looked none too steady. Luka, muttering to himself in what she presumed was Icelandic, remained determinedly at her side as they made their way toward the ship as fast as they could through the debris, body parts, and burned plascrete.

  Twice he made her slow down to purposefully hyperventilate, telling her it was to keep oxygen flowing to her brain, which he was worried had been injured. He was favoring his right leg, which was matted with blood, dirt, and soot, and he winced every time he moved his left shoulder. At least the beamer wounds on her left arm and ribs had been instantly cauterized, although they hurt almost as much as her head and neck now that she was moving. She’d hate to think how much worse they’d be if the flexin armor hadn’t taken some of the damage before failing. The flechette projectile hole through her lower left calf was hardly worth noticing by comparison, though the blood from it made her sock and boot sticky.

  The ship looked none the worse for wear, despite the shiny mark where the beamer had raked its hull. She and Luka had just made it up the long ramp and past the wide airlock into the cargo area when the shipcomm sparked to life with a synth voice announcement in standard English: “Attention. Incoming communication. Attention. Incoming communication.”

  “Andskotinn,” said Luka vehemently. She was getting quite an education in Icelandic cursing.

  Haberville’s voice boomed through the shipcomm. “I set the navcomp to autoreply, but it won’t fool anyone once they get a visual on what’s left of the base. Jerzi, strap in. Luka, get the ramp retracted and seal the door so we can launch.”

  Luka left Mairwen’s side go to look for the control panel. He found it, then swore at the agonizingly slow wakeup sequence.

  If the ramp moved that slowly, they’d never make it. She looked for the emergency release and finally found it on the floor. She dropped to her knees, knowing dizziness would overwhelm her if she tried bending over. She fumbled with the safeties on the handle, then pulled it up hard. The ramp dropped suddenly, and she let the handle fall back into place. The airlock closed so slowly, she thought she’d unthinkingly dropped into tracker mode, but the heave of Luka’s chest and her own heart rate told her she was still in realtime. She let out the breath she’d been holding when the airlock indicators finally showed a complete seal.

  Haberville’s calm but acerbic voice came over the shipcomm. “Incoming seven minutes out, launch in one. Strap in if you can, because a high-speed lift will make this gods-cursed bus handle like a pregnant cow.”

  Mairwen tried to stand, but her dizziness made it almost impossible. She dropped into half-tracker mode and go
t to her feet. Pain messages exploded from her head, side, ribs, and leg, but she’d expected it and paid no attention. They couldn’t stay on the cargo level because any unsecured supplies or equipment could crush them like bugs.

  “We need jump seats.” She grabbed Luka’s arm and pulled him toward the upward ramp.

  She squinted at the curving ramp floor to narrow her visual focus and ran up it, nearly overshooting when she arrived at the landing. He caught her and pulled her toward the interior of what looked like a common area. She looked around frantically and finally pointed.

  “There!”

  She and Luka hobbled together toward the row of jump seats against the wall. He pulled down two seats and practically slung her into one, then waited to see that she was strapping herself into the webbing before sitting and doing the same for himself. The ship vibrated deeply under her feet and thighs. She leaned back and let time come up to normal speed.

  The chair’s headrest wasn’t particularly comfortable, but it would keep her immobile and save her from whiplash or spinal injury, neither of which would improve her condition. The vibrations were just shy of earsplitting, so she cut off her awareness of all sounds, even the ringing, and turned her head slightly so she could look at Luka. He was pale and exhausted, and he was covered in grime and caked blood, especially his right thigh. At least he didn’t smell like fresh blood any more.

  He smiled a little when he caught her eye and said something she couldn’t hear. Probably telling her she looked like hell, which, considering how she felt, was shameless flattery. She gave him a small smile in return, then faced forward and flattened herself into the jump seat.

  The ride was bone jarring. Even with the gravity compensators, it felt like Haberville was evading airborne weapons fire, and possibly ground-based, too, if one of the other installations on the continent had managed to get ship-killers online. Or maybe it was just because their ship was fat-assed and wobbled like a drunken sailor. She hoped Haberville’s skills would continue to keep them safe and that the other merc squads were as inept as the one they’d already encountered.

  Finally the vibrations began to diminish. The jolting settled down to the intensity of a mild thrill-ride, then tapered to nothing and normal ship gravity.

  “Clear thermopause,” announced Haberville over the shipcomm. “Engaging system drive. I’m looking for a hidey hole. Otherwise, our tech and propulsion signature will light us up like a beacon to any asshole who’s looking.” There was a brief pause. “It’s safe to unstrap. Welcome to the good ship Beehive. Come on up to the nav pod, top level, and bring the med kit. I left it in cargo by the lifts.”

  Mairwen was surprised to find her hands were shaky as she released the webbing. The ship’s vibrations had masked the telltale signs that she was perilously close to flatlining. She stood up cautiously. The room stayed steady, so some of her dizziness had subsided, or maybe she was just getting used to it. She looked around to find the lifts, then took a couple of trudging steps toward them, promising herself she’d eat as soon as they were done meeting with Haberville.

  Luka stepped in front of her, and she almost ran into him. He grabbed her shoulders gently and steered her to a chair at a long dining table. “You need to rest and eat. Now.” She took a breath to argue, but he put a finger over her lips to prevent her from speaking. “You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Stay here, and stay sitting up.”

  She sighed, knowing he was right. She wouldn’t be good for anything if she was passed out in a corner.

  He started rummaging in the nearby open kitchen and quickly found some slices of cheese in an oversized cold box. He pulled those out, but continued pawing through the rest of the contents.

  “Gull verðlaun!” he said, and pulled out a container of liquid labeled “Electrum Gold” in bright shiny letters. He opened it and handed it to her. “Drink all of this. It’s an electrolyte balancer, and you need it.”

  He only relaxed when he saw she was complying with his order. It came to her that he’d been field treating her for possible traumatic brain injury. She took a moment to be grateful for the practical nature of his vast store of knowledge.

  He put the cheese and some apple slices on a plate. “Appetizer,” he told her, handing it to her, then went back to foraging.

  She ate and let herself be amused by his running commentary about the mercs’ poor organizational skills and nutritional habits. He was entertaining her so she would stay awake, like head injury patients were supposed to. Similar to what he’d done with Jerzi in the hell ride down to the planet surface. Luka was good with people that way. He was good with her.

  He handed her another plate, this one with a ham sandwich with unidentifiable vegetables. “Main course,” he told her, as he handed her a napkin and a glass of water.

  “Does this count as cooking a meal for me?” She took a bite.

  He gave a short laugh as he examined the contents of various cartons and pouches in the cold box. “No. When I cook for you, you’ll know it.”

  Her stomach was starting to cramp, which meant her already high metabolism was still operating in top gear, trying to compensate for all the tracker mode she’d used that day. She drank half the glass of water to try to soothe her stomach before swallowing more bites of sandwich.

  They were interrupted by Haberville’s voice over the shipcomm, heavy with peevishness. “Any time now with the med kit would be good.”

  Luka set a glass of orange juice in front of her. “Drink this. I’ll be right back. Stay awake.” He started to go, then turned back to her. From his back waistband, he pulled not one but three of her knives and set them in her lap. She felt tears well up at how much that meant to her. He put his hand to the side of her face, then limped over to the lifts and was gone. She wished she was better with words so she could tell him how happy it made her that he was still alive and caring about her.

  She also wished the ringing cacophony in her ears would go away. Unfortunately, the tracker alteration had only sped up her ability to heal a little, by dint of her higher metabolism, so it would take hours, or even days, to see any improvement. She also knew Luka and Jerzi had it worse than she did, so she told herself to quit whining. She needed to get her battered brain thinking about the next steps, not wallowing in her woes. She wanted to follow Luka to the nav pod, but knew it’d be better if she finished eating and drinking so her body would have enough fuel to keep going a while longer.

  He was back in ten minutes. He put a pill in her hand. “It’s a vasodilator from the med kit. Good for possible brain injury. Can you take it?”

  “Yes, but it won’t last long. I have a fast metabolism.” That was an understatement. Still, she swallowed the pill with the last bit of orange juice.

  “More?” he asked, indicating her empty plate.

  “No,” she said, then pointed upward. “Trouble in nav?” She was pleased that her voice was sounding less throaty than it had before.

  “Not really. Jerzi neglected to mention he’d been shot in the shoulder with a projectile, and he passed out. We revived him and got him into the autodoc for a quick diagnostic.” He snorted and shook his head. “I am surrounded by stubborn people. Eve not only retrieved the medical kit, she saved the sample kit and all our packs, too. She says the previous pilots left the navcomp wide open, or else we might not have gotten off the planet so fast.”

  He stepped behind her and began massaging her shoulder muscles in gentle circles. It felt surprisingly good. “How’s the head?”

  “Fi... better,” she said. “Your thigh?”

  “Needs patching. Eve says there’s something wrong with the navcomp, and she doesn’t trust it for faster-than-light until she resets it. Something about stuttering the system drive to jump scatter our tech signature, whatever that means. All I know is we’re stuck in-system, and we’re looking for a suitable rock in the asteroid belt to give us cover.”

  “Any ship weapons?” Luka’s touch was making it hard to think.
She’d trade a dozen physical therapists for Luka’s hands on her any day.

  “Lean forward a little. Your back is really tight. No, it’s just a small troop ship. We might luck out and find some personal weapons in the hold, but they won’t help if some skíthæll wants to smash us to atoms from a distance.”

  She knew an unorthodox method or two for defense, but mentioning them would only add to Haberville’s already long list of suspicions. Still, better that than being dead.

  “If the ship has debris lasers and some extra fibret cable, we could modify the lasers to extend their range. They burn out faster, and it takes more flux, but it’s an unexpected weapon if we can lure a target close enough.”

  Luka laughed, and she felt it through his hands on her shoulders. “You’re amazing. Eve’s going to think you’re pirate clan by the end of this.”

  She gave into long-suppressed need and stood to turn and lean against him, resting her aching head on his undamaged right shoulder, and breathing in his sound and scent. His arm enfolded her gently and he sighed. “Let’s get those lasers modified, then find the nearest showers. We stink, even to me.”

  In the end, it took an hour and both Luka’s and Jerzi’s help to add an overload flux line in the engine pod, then reconfigure the ship’s four lasers and get them back online. Haberville was busy plotting asteroid paths and finding the optimal location for avoiding possible firing solution vectors. Mairwen had no doubt she’d complain about the “jack trick” later. Once the lasers were ready, Luka, who didn’t want Haberville to be without help, sent Jerzi to scout for freshers first while he remained in the nav pod with Haberville.

  Mairwen stayed out of the way in the engine pod. She sat on a padded bench, keeping upright as Luka wanted her to, and allowed her thoughts to drift, with the ringing in her ears as an accompaniment.

  She hoped the inactivity would convince her metabolism to gear down a notch or two, so she tried to sit still and just think. She wondered why Haberville was so professional one minute and galling the next. She wondered how incompetent mercenaries stayed in business, and worried that the competent ones, like whoever had sabotaged the Berjalan and attacked their pilots, might be coming out to play soon. She thought about what Zheer could tell Space Div that would get them to come to their rescue but not arrest them. She longed for another sandwich, but the trip to the kitchen seemed like kilometers.