Escape Velocity

by Jess Anastasi

  Across from him was an alcove with some padded chairs and a small table. A vending machine took pride of place in the wall, offering beverages and snack foods. Coffee. His mouth literally watered at the thought of a strong, stinging, hot cup. The nurses wouldn’t let him have any this morning, said he couldn’t have anything except the multi-jelly until Macaulay told them otherwise. But this was one rule he had no hope in hell of following, not if it involved an honest-to-god cup of coffee.

  He walked over and touched the screen. His fingers moved over the keypad almost automatically, and satisfaction rolled through him when it turned out that he’d not only remembered the crew code to access such things, but apparently they hadn’t been changed since Emmanuel had taken over his post.

  In another few moments, the machine had delivered his order, and he wrapped his hand around the cup, enjoying the slight burn of the hot drink against his palm as he picked it up.

  “Is that for me? Thanks, I need it.” Sacha reached around him and slipped the cup out of his hand.

  He turned and sent her a glare as she blew at the steam, before taking a tentative sip. Her hair was a mess, and there were dark smudges under her eyes, but his heart thumped at the sight of her. He’d spent half the day telling himself he probably shouldn’t have kissed her after only being back on the ship for a few hours. Yet he couldn’t regret it, not when the simple pleasure of it had cleansed his soul in a way nothing else probably ever would.

  No doubt it would cause complications; he’d seen others take the friends-to-lovers path, only to have things end in disaster. But Sacha was more than just his friend, she’d been a constant presence in his life for so long it felt like at some point she’d simply become a part of him.

  He crossed his arms, unable to stir annoyance at her, even if she had stolen the first coffee he’d laid his hands on for almost a year and a half. “That was mine.”

  Although he tried for an affronted tone, the words came out sounding more amused than anything.

  She took another sip and sent him a look that seemed to say oh yeah?

  “Macaulay cleared you for something other than multi-jelly, did he? Well, I’ll have to have a word to him about that, since technically you’re my patient.”

  He crossed his arms. “Am I? Because I haven’t seen you all day.”

  “I’ve been stuck in surgery since four a.m., but the staff has been giving me updates on you.” Her gaze wandered down over his chest, all the way to his bare feet. “But I don’t remember telling anyone you could walk around med-level half naked, ordering coffee.”

  He shifted his weight, awareness flashing through him at her casual perusal. When her gaze came back up to meet his, he sent her a frown, though it was only half serious.

  “I was locked in the same small cell for over a year. Did you really think I was just going to sit around in my room when I’m feeling so much better?” He reached over and plucked the half-empty coffee from her hand. “And I can’t remember the last time I drank coffee. You can go all Doctor Dalton on me, but if I don’t get to drink what’s left of this coffee, I’ll probably tell you the same thing I told the nurse who tried to give me a walking stick.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And what was that?”

  “Just be glad you won’t ever find out.” He took a sip of the coffee and wanted to groan as the familiar bitter flavor hit his tongue and coated the back of his throat. There were some things he hadn’t even realized he’d missed until he’d gotten back on the ship and been reminded of them.

  “Commander Yang.”

  Kai turned to see Emmanuel headed toward him. The other commander stopped in front of him, and they exchanged a brief handshake. Grant Emmanuel was about ten years older than him, typical of most UEF commanders. His dark brown hair was speckled lightly with silver, and he had a shorter, stockier build. He’d met Emmanuel a handful of times before, at the bi-annual commanders’ conference the UEF liked to hold.

  “Good to see you up and around.” Emmanuel stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back, sending a respectful nod toward Sacha. “I assume this means you’re feeling well?”

  “Compared to this time last week, I’m feeling great.” He drained the last of the coffee and set the cup aside. “Was there something I can do for you, Commander?”

  Emmanuel inclined his head, expression intent. “I know you only got back to us yesterday, but the UEF doesn’t like loose ends.”

  “No, they certainly don’t.” The UEF liked their procedures, liked everything to run like clockwork in a neat, orderly fashion. It suited his personality perfectly, though he knew it often rubbed some people the wrong way. A commander coming back from the dead would be PR gold, but also the kind of mess they’d want dealt with quickly.

  “I’ll need you to come up to the command center tomorrow so we can discuss your situation.” Emmanuel glanced at Sacha. “Make sure he’s discharged by then, Doctor.”

  The gleam in Sacha’s gaze suggested she’d discharge him when she was good and ready, but she nodded nonetheless. After all, she might have been med-staff, but she was still technically under Emmanuel’s command. “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it that he’s sufficiently recovered by then.”

  “My thanks.” Emmanuel inclined his head in her direction. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back up. Yang, I’ll be in contact with the time.”

  “Yes, sir.” He saluted Emmanuel, even though they were of equal rank and he didn’t have to under informal circumstances. Despite the underlying sting at the fact the man now had Kai’s post, the hard years of military training wouldn’t let him be anything but respectful.

  Emmanuel returned the salute, before turning precisely on his heel and marching off down the corridor.

  “Tell me I wasn’t that uptight when I was in command?” he muttered as Emmanuel disappeared around a corner.

  He glared down at Sacha, who was obviously trying not to smile. “I was not that stuffy.”

  She patted him on the shoulder, all condescending as hell. “No, you were worse.”

  “That is not even—”

  Sacha laughed, and it was the best sound he’d ever heard, the echo of it rippling beneath his skin.

  “I’m just joking, Kai. Maybe in another ten years the UEF will have shoved their very correct stick so far up your ass you’ll be just like Emmanuel. But no, you weren’t ever that uptight before.”

  “Thanks,” he said, not sure if he should be insulted by her prediction for his future behavior. “What are you doing now? Want to share a meal?”

  She shook her head, before pushing a strand of hair from the side of her face.

  “Sorry, I’ve got post-surgery stuff I need to follow up on. I’ll come and see you when I’m done, okay?”

  Disappointment tightened his chest, but he kept his expression neutral. “All right, but make sure you eat something.”

  She rolled her eyes at him, just like she used to do when they’d been teenagers.

  “Fine, I’ll eat. But you have to promise to eat every single multi-jelly the nurses bring you for dinner, and I’ll be checking your file to make sure. I promise you can start on normal food tomorrow morning.”

  “Jelly again?” He sent her a disgusted look. The multi-jelly had been fine yesterday and even this morning for breakfast. But when they’d presented him with the same option for lunch, his growling stomach had yearned for something more substantial. After eating drugged slop at the CSS prison, it didn’t seem right to bitch about living on jelly for a few days, but he could have killed for some meat and potatoes.

  “Suck it up and take it for one more meal, Commander.” Sacha shot him an impertinent grin. She pointed a finger at him. “And don’t use the excuse that you’re saving one for me just in case I forget to eat. Not even watermelon.”

  “You got me,” he said, sending her an unimpressed look.

  She wiggled her fingers at him before disappearing back through the door for medico personnel only.

&nb
sp; He ran a hand over his short hair, still finding it a little odd he wasn’t covered in months’ worth of filthy shag. A couple of female sub-doctors and nurses stepped out of the door Sacha had disappeared through, stopping short when they saw him standing there.

  He crossed his arms and stepped back, nodding a greeting as they passed. A couple of them shot him assessing stares over their shoulders, before whispering between themselves. Uncomfortable awareness welled within him. He hadn’t felt self-conscious about walking around in only the PJ pants until that moment, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been checked out, if that’s what they’d been doing. There was every chance they were talking about his scars, or the fact that until yesterday they’d all thought he was dead.

  So what happened when a dead man returned to life?

  He was a commander who had nothing to command. He doubted the UEF had any protocol in place for that sort of thing. Surely it would take time for them to work out where he belonged now? But Emmanuel certainly hadn’t wasted any time coming down here to tell him they needed to sort his situation, as if it were some kind of simple misunderstanding. Except this wasn’t a military exercise gone wrong or strategic defense executed incorrectly, this was his life, his future they were talking about.

  Had they already made a decision about him? Would he be leaving the Knox before he’d even gotten his footings back in reality? A coldness rippled under his skin. He shut down the thoughts, because his mind couldn’t handle thinking about anything beyond another unsatisfying meal of multi-jelly. Yet the shadows of uncertainty had already formed in the back of his mind.

  On a ship that had once been his, with hundreds of people going about their daily lives, he’d never once felt alone. Not like he did now.

  …

  Sacha pulled off her blood-splattered surgical gown with a tired sigh. She hadn’t gotten through more than half an hour of her post-surgical follow up before the young soldier she’d been operating on had suffered complications, and she’d had to take him back in again.

  It was almost midnight. Her back was aching and her eyes felt too dry, the way they always did when she got too tired and needed a solid few hours of uninterrupted sleep. She didn’t want to do anything except change out of her scrubs into her own clothes, and escape to the peaceful sanctuary of her apartment and her bed.

  Med-level was quiet and dim, the sparse number of night staff going through their duties with hushed efficiency. She had to pass Kai’s room on the way out, and she paused outside his door. She’d promised she’d come see him when she was finished, but she couldn’t have anticipated it would be so late. It wasn’t likely he’d still be awake; his body needed the healing rest of sleep. Still, if he happened to ask her tomorrow, at least she could honestly say she’d looked in on him before she’d left for the night.

  Sacha pressed the door release. A low light had been left on, so the room wasn’t completely dark. She stepped forward, hesitating at the empty bed. Where the heck had he gone, off walking again? She could understand him not wanting to be cooped up in one room after he’d spent so long locked up without the most basic freedoms, but his recovery would be that much longer and harder if he didn’t give himself time to heal.

  Something caught her attention in her peripheral vision, halting her movement. Walking around the bed to get a clearer look, she saw Kai lying huddled in the corner where the floor met the wall.

  His body was shuddering and she rushed forward, thinking he was having some kind of seizure. But as she came down on her knees next to him, she realized his body was quaking in the throes of a nightmare.

  Her first instinct was to wake him up, but the doctor in her forced down that urge. She had no idea what he’d been through and no clue how shocking or frightening his dream might be—he could wake up violently. If she got hurt, even accidentally, he would blame himself and the guilt would be like adding acid to an already volatile cocktail.

  The best thing she could do was ride it out with him. She pushed up and hurried over to the bed, grabbed a blanket, then returned to his side. She draped the blanket over him, and then settled cross-legged beside him, not out of reach, but far enough back that she could get out of the way if he moved suddenly.

  She leaned forward a little and lightly set her hand on his shoulder. His T-shirt was damp, the edges of his hair darkened with sweat. He felt clammy and, beneath her palm, his muscles were so taut there could have been rock under his skin.

  “It’s all right, Kai,” she whispered, her words short over the tightness in her throat. “I’m right here. I just need you to come back to me.”

  The tremors seemed to subside, his body losing some of the tension. Had her voice soothed him, or had it just been a coincidence and the nightmare had run its course? He groaned, the sound low and pained, echoing through her chest with a painful stab. She smoothed her hand over his shoulder and up his neck to cup the side of his face. The tautness in her throat swelled into a lump as she tugged up the corner of the blanket and used it to wipe away the tears leaking from beneath his closed eyelids.

  “Whatever happened to you, I’ll help you through it.” This time, her voice came out a strangled murmur, and she swallowed down the thickening urge to cry.

  Kai had always been there for her, from the first day she’d met him as a petrified thirteen-year-old walking into a class of older students, sure she’d be a social outcast for the remainder of school. But he’d included her in his group of friends, making her high intelligence seem cool and interesting rather than the burden she’d always found it to be. If not for him, she would have spent her high school years in lonely misery, instead of ending up with the great friends she’d had.

  Now he needed her to be the protective pillar in their friendship and she would do whatever it took to see him through this. She couldn’t let her own emotions get the better of her, no matter what horrors he told her about the past year and a half he’d been away.

  Kai’s breathing altered slightly, and his eyelids flicked open. His gaze landed on her, shadowed with the confusion of sleep and his lingering nightmare.

  “Sacha, what are you doing here?”

  She took a quick breath to quell her own distress. “I came to check on you before I went home. You were having a nightmare.”

  He reached up and grabbed her elbow, his expression desolate. “You can’t be here, it’s not real.”

  She shifted onto her knees, bringing herself closer to him. “You’re on the Valiant Knox, remember? You escaped.”

  He shook his head, his grip tightening on her. “No, it was just a dream, there’s no way out. We tried over and over for months, but there is no escape, and there isn’t any help coming. Then we realized…”

  “What, Kai?” She set both hands on either side of his face, trying to get him to focus on her, but he seemed trapped in the nightmare that still had a grip on his mind. “What did you realize?”

  “This is where we die.”

  Her chest contracted around her lungs, making her breath short, as she forced herself into his line of vision. “No, you escaped, remember? A patrol found you on the banks of the Wyre River. You said something about jumping off some rocks.”

  His attention shifted past her, his expression becoming confused. “Is this a med-room?”

  Relief crashed through her, and she blew out a short breath. “Yes, you’ve been here two days.”

  He pulled out of her grasp, struggling to his feet.

  “Where’s Amos?” He cursed when he put his weight on his bad leg. She got in under his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his middle, helping him toward the bed. But he’d hardly sat down before he was getting back up again. “I have to see—”

  She set both her hands against his shoulders. “Kai, Amos isn’t here. He didn’t leave the camp with you.”

  For a long moment he stared at her, and then she saw the memories return to him in the darkening of his gaze.

  “Oh god, Sacha, what I did—” He pus
hed past her and rushed over to the sink, gagging several times, but not bringing anything up.

  She gave him a moment, then walked over and reached past him to run a cup of water from the faucet. He braced his hands against the edge of the sink, his head hung low and breathing uneven. She set the cup down on the bench.

  “What you did was survive, just like we talked about before.” She kept her words low and quiet. “And, no doubt, we’ll talk about it again.”

  “Because talking about it will make it all better, right?” The bitter cynicism in his voice came through loud and clear.

  A small swell of frustration washed through her, but retreated just as quickly at the bleakness in his gaze.

  “No, talking about it won’t make what happened any better, but it will help you process things. Survivor’s guilt is a slippery slope, and I don’t want to see you get lost in it. You didn’t kill Amos, you weren’t responsible for what happened to him, and you couldn’t have done anything differently. So please don’t torture yourself playing the what if game.”

  Kai straightened, reaching for the glass and downing the contents in a couple of long swallows. He put the cup into the sink, avoiding her gaze, his posture tight and withdrawn.

  “I can’t imagine the things you’re feeling, but blaming yourself won’t help Amos, and it definitely won’t help you.” When she reached out to touch his shoulder, he shifted away from her.

  “I’m well aware I can’t change the past.” His voice came out a little gravelly, and he still wouldn’t look at her. He turned away from the sink and headed back across to his bed, giving off a definite leave-me-alone vibe.

  She resisted the urge to keep pushing him, to walk over to the bed and offer him physical comfort. “I’m heading home for the night. If you need anything, buzz one of the nurses.”

  As he sat on the edge of the bed, he made a noise that could have been an agreement. Of course, he’d probably have to be almost dead before he did actually buzz for help, and even then he still might refuse to admit he needed it. She’d always found his stubbornness kind of amusing, but then she’d never exactly come up against it like she had tonight.