The Ninth (12 page)

“Well, that’s everyone but Hiroko,” Owen grunted as he set down another recruit.

“Impressive we managed it, considering it’s just the two of us.”  Brent was already climbing up to Hiroko’s chair as Owen caught his breath.  “Even Dante is out cold.”

“Let’s just hope she doesn’t decide to wake up halfway down and throw a fit, crushing us both,” Owen joked as he climbed up the mangled floor plating.

“Funny.  I’ve got her legs.  You grab her chest and we’ll start lowering her.  Let’s get her down.”

Owen moved his arms around Hiroko’s waist and froze.  Brent stared at him questioningly.

“She’s not waking up, is she?” Brent asked.

Owen didn’t say anything.  As he took his hands out from behind Hiroko, Brent could see they were covered in blood.

“What do we do?” Owen shouted.  “We’ve got to get her down!”

“Stay calm, Owen.  Panicking won’t help her or us.  We can’t move her until we take care of the wound. We might make it worse.”

“Worse?” he asked, obviously horrified at the thought.  He stared at his hands, trembling slightly.

“Owen?” Brent asked soothingly.

“I’m okay.  I just have this thing with blood.”

“Then let’s get it taken care of so you won’t see any more,” Brent said reassuringly.

“I think I saw a med kit in one of the lockers.”

Owen climbed down and started rummaging through the debris.

“Here it is.  You know any first aid?” Owen asked, with more than a trace of panic in his voice.

“Not much, but if it is only a cut I think we can handle it,” Brent called down to Owen in a gentle voice.

Owen climbed back up to Brent and Hiroko’s still body.  Together they gently turned Hiroko until Brent could clearly see the wound.  A long gash cut diagonally across her back.  A slow but steady trickle of blood oozed out of the wound.  Brent made sure his face hid any true reaction to the bleeding.  He knew if he so much as winced Owen might lose his cool.

“Looks like the hull plating behind her gave way and sliced into her back,” Brent said with forced calm while examining the wound.

“How serious is it?” Owen asked, cringing a bit.

“Thankfully, it’s not very deep.  She’s lost some blood, but I can’t tell how much.  Let’s get this taken care of quickly.  Hand me a disinfectant.”

Owen opened the kit and found several bottles, some gauze, cotton swabs, a few flat metal splints, and various other medical supplies.

“Remember when I asked if you knew any first aid?” Owen’s voice was trembling openly now.  “I asked because I don’t know any.  Which one is a disinfectant?”

“It’s okay, Owen, we’ll get through this and Hiroko will be fine,” Brent replied soothingly.  “Are any of the bottles labeled ‘hydrogen peroxide’?”

Owens hands shook as he shifted through the contents of the kit.  His eyes lit up and he steadied a bit when he found a glass jar with familiar wording on the label.

“Yes, this one here.”

“Good.  Now dip a cotton swab in the bottle and hand it to me.  Make sure you don’t touch the end after you dip it.”

Owen focused intently on following the directions to the letter.  Gingerly he handed the swab over, making sure not to look at the unconscious girl.  Brent took the swab and began tracing the edges of the wound, clearing away the blood as he went.  The swab sizzled slightly as he traced the wound.  The wound wasn’t as long as he first thought.  Once Brent was satisfied that the wound was clean, he placed the cotton swab on a surface out of Owen’s line of sight.

“The cut wasn’t as bad as I thought it was,” Brent comforted Owen.  “Now, hand me those dressings and we’ll be all set to get her down.”

Owen nodded and watched intently as Brent did his best to bandage the wound.  It was tricky, but he managed to treat the wound without Owen getting a glimpse at her back.  After the bandage was in place he started wrapping long strips of gauze around Hiroko’s waist to hold the dressing where it needed to be.  Once Brent was finished, the pair gingerly lowered Hiroko down with the other recruits.

“Owen, you stay with Hiroko.  If she wakes up I want you to keep her still and explain what happened.”  Brent approached the gash in the wall.

“What are you going to do?” Owen asked, not taking his eyes off Hiroko.

“I’m going to take a look outside, see what is left of the ship.  See if I can figure out where we are.”

Brent was greeted with an orange red vista of shallow pits and flat lumps.  This entire world was under heavy gravity, and the terrain felt it as much as he did.  The decreased variation in the scenery allowed him to see seemingly forever.  He slowly circled the ship, staring into the distance, nothing but endless dunes in every direction.  The ship itself was beyond recognition, little more than a lump of smoldering metal at the end of the long trench it had made on impact.  The sky was completely overcast with rose red clouds.  The longer he stared at the sky the more he noticed its churning, like a hidden giant was making cotton candy out of the sky.

Brent sat on the top of a nearby dune and checked himself, no broken bones or serious wounds.  His helmet was in near perfect shape.  Whatever it was made out of must be nearly indestructible.  After fastening the helmet, he lowered the goggles.  For a few moments it was completely dark, then, without warning, an amazingly bright light almost blinded him.  Rubbing his eyes, he decided to leave the helmet alone for now.  His canteen was still in one piece, and the pad was functional.

Brent pulled up the large topographical map, but now on one of the edges were pale lights.  As he touched the lights, the map zoomed in on them, thirteen lights huddled together and one a bit further off.  The blips of light varied in brightness and color.  The blip outside the group was a bright green.  Only one blip in the horde was bright green; the rest were dim and ranged from light green to pale yellow, with one deep red standing out.

Brent stood up and started circling the ship.  As he did so the ungrouped blip on the map circled similarly.  Confident that the blips represented the recruits, he examined them individually.  He guessed that the brightness indicated consciousness while the color indicated condition.  A knot developed in his chest when he realized the dim red blip was Hiroko.  Hurrying back to Owen, Brent zoomed out on the map and started searching for the structure he had seen back on the transport before it fell gracelessly.  As he figured, it was on the extreme opposite edge of the map from their current position.  They would have to trek over this high gravity desert with wounded and limited supplies.  As he reentered the remains of the ship, he saw Owen holding Hiroko’s hand tightly.

“She still has a pulse, but it’s not very strong,” Owen announced to Brent.

“There is a structure out there.  If we can get there this will be all over,” Brent reassured Owen.

“You mean leave her behind?” Owen shouted in shock.

“Don’t be stupid,” a weak voice answered for Brent.  “He would never do that.  He is going to get us all out of here.  Isn’t that right, sir?”

“Dante?”  Brent asked, surprised to hear the voice.

“Still with you, sir.  Somehow.  I feel like I jumped off that platform from the first exam.”  Dante slowly stood.

“You think you feel bad?” Owen groused from Hiroko’s side.  “While you were napping, Brent and I lugged the bunch of you down here.  You all need to go on diets.”

“You up to helping me?”  Brent steadied Dante as he got his balance.

“Anytime.  What do you need, sir?”  Dante stretched his arms.

“If you are up to it, Dante, check for supplies.  I have a feeling this is going to be a long trip.”

Dante started moving from recruit to recruit.  The heavy gravity was slowing him down to little more than a crawl.  Brent inspected the debris while Dante looked over the recruits.  His findings were pitiable.  Huge piles of jutting metal that had once been lockers and floor plating amassed everywhere.  Most of the lockers and plates had been twisted or broken apart, leaving jagged edges and exposed wires everywhere.  Searching the piles was a slow process, as Brent had to move the tremendously heavy metal without slicing himself to ribbons.  Under the metal slag he found three additional med kits and seven canteens that had been damaged in the crash and had barely any water in them, and five helmets that surprisingly had been damaged only slightly.  Among the debris were a few intact lockers and plates that had somehow survived in better shape than most of the recruits.

“Eleven canteens, fourteen helmets, and twelve badges, sir,” Dante reported

“That makes a missing canteen and seven out of commission,” Brent whispered to Dante.  “Take these helmets and make sure everyone is wearing one.  I have a sinking feeling we’ll be needing them.  Give Hiroko’s to Owen.  Also, see if you can ‘liberate’ those canteens from the recruits before they fully wake.”

“Sir?” Dante asked.

“Eleven canteens of water for twenty thirsty recruits with a big desert between them and their next drink.  You do the math.”

Dante nodded grimly and set about his task.  Brent glanced at the pad, and a few more blips were becoming brighter.  They would be able to start moving soon.  He left what was left of the lockers to check on Owen and found him still hunched over the unconscious girl.

“I’m sorry,” Owen said, without taking his eyes off Hiroko.  “I’m having a hard time keeping it together.  I can’t stand being helpless.”

“That is going to change right now, Owen.”  Brent patted his shoulder and tried to speak as soothingly as he could.  “Help me free one of the loose floor plates.  You and I are going to make a gurney.  And when we finish with that, we are going to get her to safety.”

After securing her helmet and taking Hiroko’s pulse again, Owen followed Brent to one of the debris piles.  Together, they started clearing the unbelievably heavy lockers to get at an undamaged floor plate he had spotted earlier.  With the plate free from the debris, Brent retrieved the metal splints from the med kit.  With Owen’s help the two forced the metal bars through the slots that had once bolted the plating to the floor, creating makeshift handles.  Once the handles were firmly in place, the two drug the makeshift gurney outside the ship.  As Brent headed back to the gouge in the ship, he could hear a grating sound behind him.  Turning, he watched Owen practicing dragging the plate around in circles.  The work appeared to be exhausting, but the look on Owen’s face was not that of strain but of hope.

“Three more have woken up, sir,” Dante reported as Brent entered the ship.  “Some bruises but nothing serious.”

“And the rest?”  Brent inquired.

“I’m not a doctor so I can’t really tell.  Only a few are moaning, so I hope that’s a good sign.  Considering the crash, I think we all faired quite well, sir.”

“I suppose.  Help me get Hiroko out to Owen.  The sooner she is back in his care the better we will all feel.”

Together, Dante and Brent lifted Hiroko and carefully headed out of the ship.  With the heavy gravity, moving around was difficult; carrying another, even with help, was nearly impossible.  When Owen saw the two emerging from the ship, he set the makeshift gurney down and rushed over to help.  Once they secured Hiroko, all three collapsed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever worked this hard in my life, sir,” Dante panted.

“Pace yourself, Dante.  This isn’t a race and we haven’t even started the trip.”

Brent watched the sky churn.  Owen was breathing heavily with a smile on his face.

“We really
are
going to make it, aren’t we?” Owen’s voice rang with glee.

“Ye of little faith,” Dante chuckled.

Tyra was not pleased.  Not only had she suffered a physical assault, but her pride had been wounded as well.  How dare someone beat her to the punch and snatch up that odd new recruit.  Tyra had been interested in him from the first time he showed up on the roster.  The rest only cared after they saw his performance.  Tyra took another sip.  Wrong again, far too bitter.  Was it impossible for anyone on this station to make a simple drink?  At least this was her last year at the academy.  Soon enough she would have an assignment and be able to get her hands on something decent.

Setting aside the disappointing beverage, Tyra pulled out her pad and looked up the recruit roster.  “Brent,” age seventeen.  No last name and a bio that shouted artificial at the top of its lungs.  Such things were rare but not unheard of.  At first Tyra thought he might be a reformed, a kid with a troubled past who had too much talent for the military to simply throw to some prison world.  All his misdeeds erased and a new identity, all for the low price of servitude to the military for the rest of his days.

However, after observing him on the first exam, that was obviously incorrect.  He lacked the antisocial tendencies or ego.  He actively supported the group of his own choice and risked his own success to protect the group as a whole.  After that display, Tyra had to work up a new scenario.  Perhaps Brent was the child of some important politico, the black sheep of the family banished to a remote academy to keep him away from the public eye.  She shook her head as soon as the thought had formed.  Meeting him in person he mess hall had put that theory to rest instantly.  There was no way was he the son of a politico.  Not glib enough.  Even the black sheep were wolves in disguise.  Came with the family.