by Gun Brooke
Studying the unconscious woman, Briar had to admit Vantressa possessed remarkable courage. She seemed hard-nosed and dismissive, but that was the military for you. The fact that Vantressa had saved all of Briar’s beloved little patients gave her a whole page of plus points. Briar inspected the wound and saw no sign of further penetration.
“This has to be sabotage, right?” Briar glanced at Heigel.
“So it would seem, yes.” Looking grim, the admiral sighed. “And it’s only our first day after switching to magnetar drive. Fantastic.”
Caya’s words hit Briar. So dark, no air, so much pain, and lives are lost… She’d been right. Again. Caya’s visions were becoming increasingly accurate. But nobody had died. Not yet. Her eyes darting to the monitor convinced Briar that Vantressa was doing all right. As a matter of fact, her eyelids fluttered and then opened to reveal her amber-colored eyes.
“What are you doing?” she asked huskily, trying to move. Before Briar could warn her to stay still, the pain in Vantressa’s arm made her slump back with a moan. “What the hell?”
“You’ve sustained injuries to your left lower arm after coming in contact with white-garnet oil. I’ve neutralized it, and I think I reached you in time, but it’ll be painful until we can get you to the vascular unit. I simply can’t give you anything, as it might interact with white garnet and perhaps make it worse.”
“Understood,” Vantressa said through gritted teeth. “I’m grateful you could assist, although I don’t understand how you got here so fast.”
“Because she’s the stubborn and courageous type, sir,” Dodgmer said from the doorway. He knelt next to Vantressa and patted the shoulder of her uninjured arm. “You hanging in there, sir?”
“I am.”
“The children?” Briar asked but somehow knew the man would never leave them unattended.
“Your colleagues from the other unit came to get them. They’re fine. I sent word to security, engineering, and command about the situation.” He looked over at the admiral. “Sir? Want me to take over?”
“No, Lieutenant. I don’t dare let go until they get a safety canister here. Shouldn’t be long.”
“Damn straight.” Meija Solimar stepped inside, pushing a bullet-shaped canister on a hover cart. “Let’s get that thing off your hands before you end up like the commander.”
“It’s good to see you.” Heigel smiled at her spouse. “I’ve dipped it two hundred times, if not more. It should be stable enough to move.”
“Canister’s open.” Meija lowered the container as far as it would go, and the inside shone with a strong, turquoise light.
Heigel placed the white-garnet explosive into the canister and slammed it shut, securing it. Then she slumped sideways, now trembling all over.
Meija wrapped her arms around her wife. “It’s all right. It’s just adrenaline. You’re fine.”
“We hoped for adventure, didn’t we?” Heigel chuckled as she gasped for air. “I’d forgotten just how unpleasant sabotage and explosives can be.”
“No kidding.” Meija shuddered as she glanced at Briar and Dodgmer. “We’ll tell you the whole story about what went on at the space dock when Korrian and I were still at the blueprint stage.”
Briar was intrigued. “We’ve read about the first sabotage of the Exodus operation in school. I’d love to hear from the source though.”
Dodgmer looked like he agreed.
“I need to sit up.” Vantressa shifted impatiently.
“All right, let me help.” Briar motioned for Dodgmer to hold on to the uninjured arm. “On three. One, two, three.” They hoisted Vantressa into a sitting position, but this turned out to be almost too much for her. Tilting sideways, she ended up curled against Briar’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Vantressa said, trying to sit up.
“Hey. Don’t aggravate your arm. Just relax. As Ms. Solimar said, you’re fine. I’m no expert on garnet, white or red, but if anything was going to happen via your veins or lymphatic system, it should’ve happened by now. Just stay where you are. I hear boots approaching. I’d say it’s security and so on.”
Briar kept her arm protectively around Vantressa’s sinewy and muscular shoulders. She wasn’t sure why she felt so protective of the chief engineer, but she did. Perhaps because the woman had selflessly saved the entire unit and its innocent occupants, but there was something else. She held such a high position and had the ear of the fleet admiral and the president. It was amazing how this woman wasn’t above getting her hands dirty, or injured, as it were.
Soon security and vascular experts swarmed throughout the small room. Heigel and Meija left to file their reports. Vantressa spent a few more minutes on Briar’s shoulder before the medics lifted her onto a hover gurney. Just as they pushed her out the door, the power returned to the unit, blinding them when all the lights snapped on at the same time.
“Nurse. Nurse Lindemay?” Commander Vantressa called out, her voice stronger now.
“I’m here. And my name is Briar, sir.” Briar leaned over the gurney.
“Briar. Call me Adina.” Adina smiled faintly. “Thank you. You saved my arm and—most likely—my life.”
Embarrassed at receiving praise and gratitude, Briar shrugged. “It’s my job.” She twisted her fingers into the hem of her shirt. “I’m glad I wasn’t too late.”
“Me too.” Adina closed her eyes briefly. “My team will make sure all the other consoles are clear. They’ll give you the go-ahead when it’s safe—”
Briar patted her shoulder. “We’re on it. You just focus on getting better, sir…Adina.”
“All right. Thank you.”
The emergency medics hurried the gurney through the corridor, the vascular team already by the doors.
Briar gazed around her workplace. This afternoon it had been new and uncharted territory in so many ways. Now, after everything that had happened, she felt it was her turf. This was her unit and she was here to keep her little patients safe. She had done that today, with the help of her coworkers and Adina Vantressa’s bravery. Whoever could find it in their heart to sabotage a unit caring for prematurely born children, the most vulnerable of all Oconodians, would not cease their attempts.
A deep, trembling breath later, Briar realized it was time to start secretly documenting Caya’s visions, as her ability to see future events might help save people’s lives.
*
Adina heard the familiar voices and groaned. “Not now.” It was, however, too late to stop the Vantressa clan from entering her room. The head of vascular surgery had insisted on keeping her for at least two nights. There was a miniscule risk of white garnet dislodging from a joint or muscle tissue and poisoning her system on a smaller scale. How her family had found out about her situation she didn’t understand—but she wasn’t surprised.
“Child!” Shabina Vantressa called out, her voice high-pitched and concerned. “You’re so pale.” She bent over Adina’s bed and peppered her face with kisses. “I’m here. We’re here now. We’ll take care of everything.”
“Thank you, Mother, but—”
“Ah, don’t mention it. What are families for?” Shabina sat down on a visitor’s chair, as did Mailo, her stepfather, on the opposite side. The rest of the family—three siblings with their spouses, two aunts and uncles, one grandmother, and two great-uncles and their wives—stood in a semicircle around Adina’s bed. In front of them children of all ages looked at her with wonder.
“You’re famous, Aunt Adina,” little Unsio said, his eyes glowing with interest. “They showed you again on the main screens. All the other kids in our block will know you’re our aunt.” He was bursting with delight.
“Oh, Creator,” Adina said with a sigh. She hadn’t even been properly debriefed yet.
“He’s not exaggerating,” the boy’s father, one of her brothers, said. “You’re forever deemed the hero who saved the Exodus mission from failing on the first day.”
Adina knew better than to argue.
Her family had a way of collectively deciding on what was the truth. Usually they were in consensus when the issue at hand coincided with what was in the family’s best interest. Right now, it was good for the family to bask in whatever fame the screens rendered her. She had learned firsthand how coldly they could turn away if they decided what happened placed them in a bad light. The Vantressas would be an excellent case of collective sociopathic mindset to study. Having lived among them until she was eighteen, Adina was aware that her absence while at the military academy and, later, the university, was why she had escaped their clutches. When the Exodus operation had approached, her respite came to an end. It was hardly surprising they’d track her down among the two million passengers, but she hadn’t thought she’d have to deal with them on the first day.
“I’m sorry. I need to rest,” Adina said, making her voice short. “Thank you for coming.”
“But we’re here to take you home to our quarters. It has to be better for you to be around family than—”
“No.” Her vehemence stirring beneath the surface, Adina cradled her injured arm. “I need to be under the supervision of specialists.”
“What’s going on here?” a bright voice said from behind the Vantressas. “The commander cannot have this many visitors at once.”
Adina stared at Briar, who still wore her nurse’s uniform. Of course, her family had no way of knowing which unit Briar worked at.
“I want to nurse her back to health in our quarters. We live in a larger setting as a family cooperative,” Shabina said, waving dismissively at Adina’s protests. “We have plenty of space.”
“I’m sure you mean well,” Briar said before Adina could snap at her mother. “However, in this case, it’s a matter of having specialists monitor your daughter so she doesn’t lose her hand…or her life. She’s doing much better, but she’s not quite in the clear yet. Why don’t you let her get some rest and come back to visit tomorrow? Perhaps just a few of your lovely family? The commander tires easily after her ordeal.”
“Hmm.” Shabina exchanged a glance with her latest husband. “Well, if you say so, Nurse…”
“Lindemay.” Briar pointed merrily at her nametag. “I just knew you’d understand what’s best for the commander.”
Shabina looked like she’d object again, but Briar took her hand between both of hers. “As a mother you’re hardwired to protect your child. I truly understand that, but the best thing for the commander, for Adina, is to rest here where she has specialists to tend to her. You understand, right?”
Adina stared at how her willful and manipulative mother swallowed everything Briar said, and her reaction set the tone for the rest of the family. They waved good-bye to Adina, and after her mother subjected her to another storm of pecks on her forehead, the Vantressas departed as noisily as they had arrived.
Exhaling, Adina closed her eyes. “Oh, thank the Creator.” She opened them and looked at the petite woman at the foot of her bed. Briar’s strawberry-blond hair was down and lay in large curls around her shoulders. “I apologize for my family barging in. They can be a bit…much.”
“They worry about you.” Briar shrugged. “Then again, a lot of them were here. Too overwhelming for you.”
“You could say that,” Adina murmured.
“Well, I’ll let you get your rest—”
“Wait. Don’t go yet.” Adina wasn’t sure why she didn’t want Briar to leave, because she was exhausted. “Sit down for a moment, unless you need to be somewhere.”
Briar hesitated for a moment but then sat down on the chair Shabina had just vacated. “I can stay a few minutes.”
“Thank you. Is the ward operational again?”
Briar smiled. “Yes. When I left, the children were asleep in their own incubators and cots. They’re all remarkably unaffected.”
Relieved, Adina returned the smile. “Any casualties somewhere else?”
A dark shadow traveled across Briar’s fair skin. For the first time, Adina noticed the pink band of freckles across her nose. “Not on the children’s unit. However, a jumper with four people—two men and two women—sat in a tunnel for hours without being able to alert anyone. One of the men suffered a heart attack and died in his wife’s arms while they waited for help.” Briar drew a trembling breath. “They ran out of oxygen just before an engineering crew happened upon them.”
“Oh, for the love of the Creator.” Adina winced. “And?”
“They’re alive, but two of them are in a coma.” Briar shoved her hand through her locks, disheveling them thoroughly. “Why the hell would someone do this when we’ve just started out?”
Adina unclenched her fists. “Destroy morale, for political or religious reasons. Undermine the whole Exodus operation, if possible.” She’d seen a long list of protesters who had reasons to do something like this. “The thing is, using white garnet the way these people did requires a lot of knowledge and, I suppose, guts. One false move and they would’ve fared much worse than I did.” She smiled wryly. “And trust me, it hurt.”
“I could tell.” Briar pulled a leg up and hugged it to her. “I could also see how it pained the admiral not to be able to help you. She had to keep dipping that thing or we all would’ve died. I couldn’t make it out of the ward since both my babies stopped breathing as we ran. Have to say, your guy there, he’s quite something.”
“Dodgmer?” Adina thought of how he’d dragged her from the mayhem in the capital a while back. “He’s the best. I trust him with my life and then some.” She tilted her head on the pillow and regarded Briar. “Seems I can trust you the same way. Thank you.”
“All medical staff would know what to do with such a burn.” Briar colored enough to set her freckles ablaze.
“Not all medical staff would run toward a room containing a dangerous explosive device like that.” Adina could tell the praise didn’t sit well with Briar and wondered why. Most people, even if they became embarrassed, liked hearing when they did something well.
“Maybe.” Briar stood. “I should let you rest. I’ve got to go home and make sure my sister gets off to school. If I don’t, she might think it’s not entirely necessary the second day of our journey.”
“You have a sister? Is it just the two of you?” Adina wasn’t sure why she asked or why she was keeping Briar from leaving.
“Yes. Her name is Caya and she’s nineteen. Last year of basic school.” Briar rocked back and forth on her feet as she shoved her hands into her pockets. “And yes, it’s just us. Been like that for a while.”
“I see. Well, you saw what a family I’m blessed with.” Grimacing, Adina lowered the head of the bed.
“Does it hurt? Let me.” Briar leaned over her and pressed the sensor to lower the bed. “There? Better?” She gazed down at Adina, and it was as if time slowed for several moments. Despite Adina’s fatigue and the pain in her arm, she missed the warmth radiating from Briar when the other woman stepped back and resumed her stance, hands in pockets. “I hope you sleep well,” Briar said. “I’ll look in on you tomorrow after work, if that’s okay.”
“That’d be nice.” Adina took herself by surprise again, as she rarely socialized with anyone except her peers in the military. For her to willingly agree to spend any time with a civilian was…unheard of. “Bring your sister if you like.”
Briar hesitated. “All right. I might do that.” She nodded and hurried out the door.
Adina wondered if the white garnet had reached her brain after all. Why did she respond so powerfully to this woman? Briar wasn’t her type in any way or form. The first time she’d seen her earlier that day in the flickering lights, she’d thought her small and weak looking. Recanting the latter impression, though Briar was indeed on the short side, Adina conceded she’d have to revise most of her preconceived ideas about this nurse. She was tough, strong, and perceptive. Granted, she hadn’t seen through her family’s mode of operation, but given time, she would. People usually did.
Adina had almost doz
ed off when turquoise eyes appeared before her. Somehow she found their gaze comforting. She tried to make sense of this highly unusual dream…or was she awake? If she was, she really should go to sleep.
She was so tired.
Chapter Four
“Is that all you’re having?” Briar motioned toward the e-bar in front of Caya. “I came up early so I could cook if—”
“Too nervous.” Caya bit into the energy bar. “Ew. I don’t have these often and now I remember why.”
“I could’ve reminded you.” Shaking her head, Briar scanned her sister’s school uniform. Her long hair in a severe ponytail, she looked impeccable. “You all set?”
“Yes. Today’s just orientation. I’m in the group of latecomers.” She sighed and hid her face behind her hands. “Isn’t that just awesome? Latecomers. It’s not like that epithet won’t linger forever.”
“There was a reason for not going on board until the last minute,” Briar reminded her. “A very good reason, so just keep your focus on what’s important.”
“Making friends and not being a total loser matter too.” Caya pushed out her lower lip, which made her look outrageously cute.
“I know, sweetheart, and you’ll make a lot of new friends. We’re in the same cube as many from our hometown. You’ll be able to find some of your old friends via the registry.”
“What old friends? I was only outside of our home when I attended what few classes I ever had at school. You were so afraid my genes would overload or something in case I ran into a changer, I never went anywhere. And then, years of homeschooling.” Caya folded her arms over her chest. “Now when I’m finally allowed to leave our quarters, you think I’ll be voted Miss Popular or something?” Glaring at Briar, she looked like she was only moments from stomping her foot the way she used to when she was little. “I’ll probably come off as an awkward idiot.”
“Don’t fault me for wanting you to be safe,” Briar said quietly, stepping closer to her. “You’re all I have, after all” She caressed the flawless skin on Caya’s cheek. “And don’t joke about being a changer. If you slip, even as a joke, you’ll face disastrous consequences.” If anyone took Caya away from her, Briar wasn’t sure what she’d do. Go berserk, no doubt.
