The Rush's Edge Read online

  “Don’t worry, brother. I don’t give my word often, but when I do, it is my bond.”

  “It better be,” Hal replied in a low growl.

  THIRTEEN

  “So. Where did you two serve?” Hal asked Patrin’s remaining soldiers as he took Ty’s station on the bridge and began to program the coordinates he’d been given. Hal had suggested that Vivi stay with Ty in the medbay while he got them underway and she’d agreed. He felt better having her as far away from these two pirates as he could get her.

  Lane spoke for the pair. “I was a line sergeant but got moved to Engineering after I was injured. Orin here was infantry on Stendal; he got hurt during a rebel insurgency. The rioting locals got their hands on him and damaged his implant. He can’t hear or speak. He can read lips a little if you speak slowly – he’s still learning.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hal said to both of them. Lane took a seat at Beryl’s station and began picking at a frayed spot on her cargoes. Orin sat at the weapons station, his gaze on Lane, waiting on an order, or maybe he was reading her lips. Hal couldn’t tell.

  “Yeah. Damn nats,” she shook her head and sighed, blowing a strand of hair away from her face. “So, was the captain your CO?”

  “Yeah,” Hal said.

  She nodded. “I could tell. Why did the ACAS come after you?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure why they wanted us so badly… maybe they have something on the planet. Like a secret base?” Hal wondered if it was the Mudar tech – maybe someone knew about it being on the planet, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t trust these newcomers enough to share that, however.

  Hal turned his attention to their planned route. Whatever damage had been done in battle, it seemed to have had no effect on the Loshad’s engines. The readout in front of him said they were at eighty-nine – no – ninety percent. Maybe the sensors were going haywire. “Runa, run diagnostics. I need to know what kind of damage we’ve suffered. I’m getting some strange readings.”

  I’m working on that, Hal.

  “Anyway, why were you out here? I’m assuming you don’t have permits.”

  She smirked. “No. We usually ‘appropriate’ what we need from nat ships, either out here or on the other side of the Border. This is the second ACAS ship we’ve caught alone.”

  “What happened to the first one?”

  He read the answer in her wide smile.

  “So, you’re fighting against the ACAS?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Well, yeah. They sure as hell didn’t do us any favors.”

  Hal could see her point. On the other hand, he still felt an echo of loyalty to the Coalition. But was that just something that had been hammered into him by the implant in his skull? Ty had made several comments over the years about the ACAS and how they treated the soldiers like himself. Some remarks were muttered under his breath, and others said directly in anger over some newsfeed about the senseless loss of troops in a certain area.

  Hal was aware of the specialized training he’d undergone, the downside of which hadn’t happened until he’d been released from the service. It had been soon after his first paycheck from Ty for their work on the Border; he had decided to go blow off some steam when they were berthed on Jaleeth station, one of the two major stations in the Edge. Ty had been busy getting their haul packed up to be taken off by the LanTech people, so Hal – keyed up and on edge from an episode the previous night – had gotten tanked up on the local hooch and fought with some station rat in the bar. Blind drunk and full of adrenaline, he felt invincible stumbling out of the club. He went walking the station, then things blurred for a while. He found himself in a dark corner of the station’s many avenues with a vial in his hand.

  After the fight he’d been hyped, but after dosing up it only took a few minutes for him to feel nothing. Every cell in his body was numb. Reality had taken on a dreamlike quality. He was laying with his back up against some shipping crates, grinning stupidly as he realized he couldn’t move a muscle. He was so relaxed he couldn’t move his eyelids to close his eyes. Some small part of him knew he was in danger, but he didn’t care. If anyone decided to slit his throat, he wouldn’t have been able to raise a finger to stop it.

  His gaze floated to the only other occupant in the darkened area of the station. An obvious vagrant – in ragged and dirty clothes. He was a vat as well; the tattoo was clearly visible below the cuff of his ill-fitting coat. His hands were shaking as he snapped the end off his own vial and dripped the contents into his eye. He sighed and blinked as he fell back against the wall.

  Null. It was one of the few street drugs that was administered in that manner. Hal had a dim memory of taking it himself; that was why he couldn’t move and why he seemed to feel like he was about to float away. It was nice. All the routines hammered into him by the ACAS just faded away. Normally he felt like a taut wire, but all that stress had gone, replaced by a peaceful void.

  He finally passed out. He couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive. But after a time, he felt a hand shaking him, bringing him back to the living. When his eyes regained their focus, he could see Ty’s worried face. His captain took the vial from his hand and looked down at it with revulsion.

  “Ty…” Hal smiled in a vacant way.

  There was an emotion in his friend’s face that Hal didn’t understand, and he felt the smile fall from his lips.

  “It’s OK, Hal. Come on. Let’s get back to the ship.” Ty reached down and pulled him onto his feet.

  They walked back to the Loshad, Hal leaning heavily on Ty as he felt like he no longer had legs. It was a trip Hal only remembered in bursts of light and shadow. When he woke the next day, the mother of all headaches hit him like a cannon blast. A while passed before he realized Tyce was sitting in a chair by his bunk. Hal groaned as he sat up, holding the side of his head.

  “Just shoot me,” he moaned, trying to rub some of the pain out of his skull.

  Tyce didn’t say anything. Hal glanced over at his friend and saw him staring at the floor. “Ty? I’m, er, I’m sorry. Shit. I screwed up.”

  Tyce’s brown eyes were full of some emotion that Hal didn’t understand. It wasn’t anger exactly, but a deep unhappiness. It took his friend a long time to reply.

  “Halvor, I know… I know that you have this, this drive inside of you to seek out trouble. And that you can’t quiet down that voice in your head because of what the ACAS did – to you and all the other vats. I get that. I get that it must be hard to deal with.” He paused before he went on in an even softer voice. “I understand why vats turn to using null, but that shit… Hal, it’s death. It’s a death that eats you from the inside out.”

  Hal didn’t understand the expression on Ty’s face as he struggled with his words.

  “Ty…”

  His captain leaned forward, running both hands through his hair in frustration. He paused for a while before finally looking up. “You can’t do this to yourself, Hal. You can’t. I’m not gonna let you end up some junkie, hiding in the corners of a station like a hold rat. Are you hearing me?”

  “I didn’t mean–”

  “Hal.” Ty’s voice cut him off with a tone he had only used for significant battle commands. “I’ve got to know if you’re hearing me.” Ty’s face was desperate with sorrow, as he took Hal by the shoulders. “I have to know right now.”

  Hal hadn’t understood at first, but he saw it then. His captain – his friend – was pleading with him because he genuinely cared. It was not something Hal had ever experienced before, and the realization made him feel like he’d been drenched by a bucket of cold water.

  “I do, Ty. I do hear you,” Hal whispered.

  Ty scanned his face, seeking confirmation of his words. “OK,” he finally said, letting go of Hal. He got up and made his way to the hatch but stopped. “If you… If you ever feel like that again, just come find me, OK? I’ll keep you safe from yourself.”

  Over time, Hal had seen more and more vats get swallowed up by impulses they cou
ldn’t control. It never happened to him, though. Not again. Ty’s guiding hand kept him straight, and the memory of seeing the agony on his friend’s face kept him haunted enough to stay grounded. He had his moments, sure. Sometimes the rush took him over, or he woke up having one of those things Beryl had coined “an episode.” But he had kept the promise he made. He had never touched null again.

  “You OK there?” Lane was looking at him kindly, waiting patiently on his answer.

  He shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. “Yeah, good. Just thinking you’re right. The ACAS hasn’t done anyone any favors.” His mouth was a frown as he turned back to the panel in front of him.

  Hal, the diagnostic confirms the engines are at ninety percent, Runa announced.

  “Alright. We’ll leave in a few minutes,” Hal said, turning to the two vats. “I’ve got something to do first,” he said. “Come on.”

  They made their way down to Vivi’s room, where the ACAS tecker had been killed. Lane nodded on seeing the corpse, understanding the story without needing to be told.

  “You going to space him?” Lane commented. “Make them think he was taken out on their ship?”

  “That’s the plan,” Hal said, going to the body. He got his arms around it and hefted it onto his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.

  They walked down to the airlock, where Hal deposited the soldier. He didn’t feel bad for him. The nat tried to kill whomever he could find; it was him or them, and Hal couldn’t bring himself to be sorry for protecting his crew. He straightened up and looked at Lane and Orin. “There’s two more in the cargo bay,” he said.

  They made their way into the bay, where they found the two dead ACAS soldiers near the excavation vehicle. Orin stopped Hal with a hand on his chest, then made a sign to Lane.

  “Orin says he’ll get the big one,” Lane said.

  Orin stooped to shoulder the body. Hal got the other, and they returned up the ramp toward the airlock. He and Orin laid the dead ACAS soldiers by their comrade. Hal stood there a minute, looking at the three corpses. Then he stepped back, closed the inner seal and used the controls to open the outer hatch.

  “Thanks,” Hal said.

  The big man nodded down at him.

  “Right, Runa? Get us out of here,” he ordered, trying to focus on the task ahead. The Al-Kimian commerce raider had already gone, and he couldn’t be late to the rendezvous.

  Beryl was treating one of the crew, a vat named Brandle, for a concussion. “There’s no bleeding on the brain, and your implant is functioning well, so that’s good.”

  “When will this headache go away?” the bleary-eyed soldier asked, rubbing his temple.

  “I’m going to give you something for that. Just a minute.” She began rummaging around in the medbay’s cabinets, looking for a specific medicine for the medjet. “You’ll probably have symptoms for a week or so, then they should lessen. You need to rest. No shifts at the computer, no vidfeeds. Just sleep a lot and take it easy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The soldier nodded as Beryl gave him an injection for the pain.

  The patient’s friend stood by, eyeing the medic. Beryl had seen them come in together. “You sure he’s gonna be OK, doc?”

  “Yes. Make him rest. Plenty of fluids and no exertion.” She allowed Brandle’s friend to help him to his feet and take him towards his quarters. Now the medbay was empty of new patients.

  Just as Beryl let out a sigh of relief for the respite, Patrin appeared at the door with a bottle of water. “I can bring something to eat if you’re hungry and would like a break,” he offered.

  “No, this is perfect,” she said as she went to the basin and washed her hands. When she returned, she accepted the bottle. She checked the seal, but it was undisturbed, so she opened the bottle and drank gratefully.

  “If you are not too tired, could you come and look at our captain?” Patrin asked.

  “Of course,” Beryl said. “What kind of injury is it?”

  “It’s… not an injury. The captain is nearing his last days,” Patrin said in a quiet voice. “He has asked if he could meet you. But I’m asking if perhaps there is any way to ease his discomfort? Every rush causes him more problems.”

  She put a hand on the Patrin’s arm. “I’ll do what I can.”

  Patrin nodded, but she could see the war going on behind his eyes. He wanted to remain all business, but just like Hal, Patrin cared deeply about his captain. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll come for you in a moment.”

  While waiting, she packed her bag with a few things she might need. During her time in the service, Beryl had only seen young, current soldiers. But when she got out, she’d worked at a free clinic on Jaleeth. She’d seen many vats near their expiry date – the “last days” as some called it – so she knew which drugs would provide the palliative care they needed. Of course, the lucky ones died quickly by cardiac arrest or aneurysm, but not everyone got the easy way out.

  “When you’re ready,” Patrin said.

  Beryl picked up her bag and turned to him. “Let’s go.”

  “The Hesperus is an older ship.” Patrin said as he led her down the main corridor. “Not much to look at, but she’s surprisingly sturdy.”

  Beryl was taken to quarters near the bridge. The soldier standing guard stepped aside for them as they approached.

  Patrin knocked twice. A “come in” sounded from inside, so he keyed in the door code.

  They entered a room with recessed, subdued lighting in the ceiling. “Sir. The medic from the other ship is here.”

  Slow footsteps came from the back of the room, and a man came into view.

  He was taller than Patrin, with longer curly brown hair shot through with some streaks of gray, tied back in a ponytail. He was broad-shouldered and stood tall, despite his age. “I’m Jacent Seren, captain of the Hesperus. For as long as I can hold the position anyway.” He laughed, but it turned into a hacking cough. He put a hand on the table as the spasms shook him. Patrin immediately grabbed a chair, brought it over for his captain and held out a water bottle.

  The vat captain drank deeply, and his cough seemed to ease a bit. He set the bottle on the nearby table. “Please excuse me. I’m getting old,” he said in explanation.

  “I’m Beryl McCabe,” Beryl said, stepping forward. “I’m formerly an ACAS medic. I would be glad to examine you and help in any way I can.”

  Seren nodded. As she began to pull her medscanner and several other items from her bag, Beryl said, “I must thank you for coming to our rescue, sir.”

  “We hold no love for the ACAS. They’ve caused much suffering for vats and nats alike.”

  Beryl nodded as she lifted her scanner and took several images of the captain. He had high blood pressure, and an irregular heartbeat with enlargement of the heart muscles. Add in a respiratory infection and compromised immune system, and he was headed for trouble.

  She checked his pupil responses, which were slightly off on the left side, where his implant was. “Do you have someone that usually handles your medical?” she asked.

  “Yes. He was needed elsewhere, and so he’s not with us on this trip,” Patrin said.

  “He’ll be back, then?”

  Patrin nodded.

  “Good.” She turned back to the captain. “Have you had any trouble with your heart? Palpitations? Chest pain?”

  Seren nodded slowly. “All of it.”

  She could read the exhaustion in his tired face. He was well aware of what was going on, but it didn’t make this any easier. Her face fell, and she reached out to put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I can give you medicine for some of the symptoms, and your medic should be able to continue the treatment plan I’ll devise. It should steady your heartbeat and lower the stress on your body from the high blood pressure. And I have antibiotics for the infection.”

  She looked down at the scanner, blinking away furious tears at her inability to control her emotions. Her recent conversation with Ty, and her knowledge that
this would also be Hal’s fate one day overwhelmed her. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, wiping tears away. “I…”

  Captain Seren shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I knew this was coming. I’m thirty-seven – much past my time.”

  “I have a friend…” Beryl murmured. “He’ll be standing in your shoes one day.”

  “If you are his friend, then he will be lucky indeed,” Seren replied before another bout of coughing set him gasping for breath. Beryl immediately injected the antibiotic with the blood pressure medication, giving him everything possible to make him more comfortable.

  “We have to get you to bed,” Beryl said. “You’ll require plenty of fluids and rest over the next few days. You will need this antibiotic for the next seven days. I’ll leave enough with Patrin for you.”

  “I’ll make sure he gets it,” Patrin said.

  “I want to meet your captain,” Seren said to Beryl.

  “He didn’t come with me. He was injured in the battle.”

  “Perhaps later. We will rendezvous tomorrow evening,” Patrin said.

  “Very well,” the captain murmured.

  “I will check in on you,” Beryl promised. Then she returned to the front part of the captain’s quarters. She packed up her medkit and went to wait outside.

  “I’ll be out in a moment,” Patrin said.

  The door closed behind Beryl, and the young soldier on guard looked at her with interest. “How is the captain?”

  “He’ll feel better,” Beryl said. “I did everything I could.”

  Still, the soldier kept staring at her.

  “What is it?” she finally asked.

  “I’m sorry. It’s strange to me that a nat would help us.”

  “I understand why you might feel that way,” she said softly, as Patrin exited the captain’s quarters.

  “You’re dismissed for tonight. He’s resting now,” Patrin ordered.

  “Yes, sir.” The soldier headed off the other way, as Patrin walked with Beryl back towards sickbay.

  “You’re second in command around here?” Beryl said.

  Patrin nodded with a sidelong grin. “You’re pretty observant.”