by Zen DiPietro
Fallon wore a hot-pink-and-orange sarong, with stupid little strappy sandals that wouldn’t last a second in a fight. Peregrine wore a flowy maxi dress in shades of blue, along with a ridiculous floppy hat. There was no way she could wear that thing inside some local hotspot. Which was fine. Fallon had no desire to visit some building full of pounding music and bodies packed shoulder to shoulder, all attempting to impress one another with inept dancing. No thanks.
Instead, they took a walk, waving and returning cheery greetings to other people. One thing you could say for Dineb, everyone was far too happy to be rude. Every new person was a chance to meet your new friend, lover, or whatever. Except, of course, for Fallon and Peregrine, who were careful to avoid getting entangled in any invitations. Fallon did notice Peregrine looking at a particular blond human with interest.
“Feel free, if you’re up for it,” Fallon suggested. No doubt Peregrine could use a good distraction. “I can hold down the fort and contact you if anything happens.”
Peregrine’s eyes tracked the guy, strolling down the walkway with a group of other young men.
“No,” she said with a tinge of regret. “I don’t want to be hung up somewhere if the guys show up. When they show up.”
They stopped at a stand selling frozen custard and each got a dish of the creamy dessert. Fallon let the berry flavor melt on her tongue as they walked along, pondering the irony of enjoying such an indulgence during a tense waiting period. The nature of the confection also amused her, as it contained a variety of berries from disparate planets. Funny how an entire universe could come together into one small cup of custard. She could almost get philosophical about it.
Peregrine had fallen silent too, and by unspoken agreement they sat on a bench alongside the parkway, watching streams of people pour out of one set of doors, only to enter another a block or two away.
In backward fashion, after they finished their desserts, they went in search of a quiet spot to get some dinner. No luck. Instead, they ordered some Zerellian takeout and returned to their bench.
They arranged the containers on the bench beside them and dug in with their chopsticks. After several bites from one container, Peregrine passed it to Fallon. “This one’s really good. Try it.”
Fallon put down the spiced chicken she’d been eating and accepted Peregrine’s offering. She pinched a bit of the brown noodles and vegetables and quickly shoveled it into her mouth.
“Mmm,” she mumbled in appreciation. The noodles were thick, but not tough, giving them just the right chewiness. The brown sauce on them was simultaneously sweet and acidic, tearing into her taste buds and making them take notice. Fallon ate several more bites as she watched the passersby, then handed it back to Peregrine. “Thanks.”
“Hendaya has always been one of my favorites.” Peregrine dug right back into the dish, expertly popping noodles into her mouth.
“I can see why. Maybe it’s one of mine, too.” Fallon chuckled.
Peregrine turned her head toward Fallon. “What’s it like? Not knowing your own life?”
Fallon lifted the shoulder nearest her partner, then let it drop. “Like being incredibly young, I guess. As far as my awareness goes, I’m only a couple of weeks old. But I came with all of these preloaded programs, so I know tons of stuff. I don’t even know what all I know. And somehow other people know more about me than I know about myself, but whenever I find something out about my past, it makes perfect sense.” She wiped her mouth with a disposable napkin, which she found terribly wasteful, but that was how Dineb worked. Everything disposable. No worries about the consequences of tomorrow.
She continued, thinking as she spoke. Having to put her thoughts into words made her analyze them more than she had previously. “It’s a little eerie sometimes. I feel like I’m a brand-new person, but I’m exactly like the version of myself that existed before the accident. A mirror. I’d have thought some things might change. That without memories of the events of my life, my basic personality composition could shift. At least a little, here and there.”
“But no?” Peregrine had paused with a dumpling in her chopsticks hovering just beyond her lips.
“Nope. I’m exactly what everyone tells me I am. It makes me want to rebel sometimes. Do something that people wouldn’t expect of the Fallon they know.”
Peregrine smiled while chewing a large dumpling, making her look rather goofy.
“What?” Fallon asked.
“Nothing. You’ll get mad,” Peregrine said from behind her hand, her words loose and juicy with spicy sauce.
“I’ll get mad if you don’t tell me. So go ahead.”
Peregrine swallowed. “I was thinking that it sounded just like you to want to go against the grain. To be different just for the sake of being unpredictable. Very typical Fallon behavior.”
“Gah!” Fallon rolled her eyes and made a sound of disgust, though she found it mildly amusing. “I guess that’s part of being a team. Being known so well.”
“Yup.” Apparently the dumplings were as tasty as the hendaya, because Peregrine stuffed an even bigger one into her mouth and still didn’t offer the container to Fallon.
“Give me those.” She grabbed the container out of Peregrine’s hand. “You’re about to eat them all.”
“But you don’t—” Peregrine began.
Too late. If a flavor could be a stench, that’s what was filling her mouth. “Auuugh,” she groaned as her taste buds rebelled. She could only describe the flavor as rot and dirty running socks rolled into one. With a very spicy hot sauce, but not nearly enough to cover the evil stench-taste.
There was nothing else to do. “Pleh.” She spit the dumpling out right into the walkway in front of her. “Oh, Prelin. So gross.”
She hung her mouth open, trying to air it out as she scrabbled for a napkin, then wiped her tongue with it. Peregrine pressed a recyclable drink bottle into her hand and Fallon gulped the oddly refreshing cucumber-mint juice.
“Ahh,” she pulled in a breath. “Oh, that was so bad. Rastor dumplings, right? As soon as I tasted it, I knew.”
Peregrine’s laughter grew louder and louder until she sat holding her stomach and hooting with tears running out of the corners of her eyes.
Fallon sighed, feeling foolish, but a reluctant snicker wrested its way out of her.
Peregrine gasped for breath, still giggling, wiping her face. Fallon supposed she should be embarrassed, or angry at being the butt of such laughter, but it pleased her to see Peregrine so relaxed. Her features had been so tight and strained up to this point that she hadn’t been able to see how attractive Peregrine was. Not in a beautiful way, or even pretty in the strictest sense of the word. Her face had so much strength, and a lack of the high cheekbones and full lips that typically equated to beauty, but her eyes sparked with intelligence and her features were so full of character. No doubt her partner could make herself up as a beautiful woman, but in Peregrine’s own style, Fallon found her quite appealing. A unique, interesting person. Someone she wanted to know more about.
She smiled at her partner, feeling truly connected to her for the first time, as if two components had suddenly clicked into place together.
People walking by grinned at them, having witnessed Peregrine’s big crack-up. The two of them smiled back, but didn’t invite conversation. Fallon took a napkin and scooped up the offending Rastor dumpling, then dropped it into a rubbish bin. Visitors who made a habit of leaving messes behind would find themselves without visiting privileges. Not that anyone knew her true identity here, besides Peregrine, but not cleaning up after oneself was quite rude on Dineb.
After eating, they grabbed a couple more frozen custards to take back to the room. This time, Fallon chose chocolate flavored. There was nothing philosophical about chocolate, unless one wanted to do an in-depth analysis of indulgence and sin. Not being the religious sort, Fallon did not.
In the living space of their rented suite of rooms, they both set down their dessert cups an
d did a security sweep, then returned and sat—Fallon on the couch and Peregrine on a recliner chair that looked highly comfortable. Fallon made it a priority to snag that seat next time.
They ate their custard slowly, and mostly in silence, though occasionally one of them remarked on something or other.
Fallon decided to suggest a holo-vid. There was little else for them to do, and she’d tired of peppering Peregrine with questions about her past. She had to accept that getting answers would take time, and some of them might never come.
“Do you—” she began, but Peregrine’s leg made a shrill noise and she cut the words off.
Peregrine dropped her cup and spoon to the table with a clatter and lifted her dress to midthigh, where Fallon saw a belt holding a pair of wicked-looking knives and the tiniest stinger she’d ever seen. More Blackout tech, no doubt.
Peregrine tugged a tiny receiver from the belt and squinted at it. “They’re coming. Or at least one of them is. Heading our direction, moving fast. Probably a taxi.”
Fallon sat up straight. “Finally.”
Peregrine just nodded distractedly.
Fallon stood. “We should prepare food, water, and medical support. Then get into tactical positions.” No telling what condition their other two partners were in, or who might be on their heels.
Peregrine blinked at her, then gave a jerky nod. She jumped to her feet. “I have a Blackout medkit in my gear.”
“Good. I’ll get food and water ready.” Fortunately, they’d found a bodega and stocked the mini-cooler, as well as the cabinet.
That done, they both grabbed weapons and took up defensive positions. Peregrine chose the window, while Fallon selected the hallway adjacent to the stairwell and lift. Fallon had her stinger and knives, and her eyes widened when she saw what Peregrine held. How had she fit so much into the few bags she’d taken away from the island?
Peregrine held a military-grade personal laser cannon against her shoulder, using the scope to look at long-range targets out the window.
“No way,” Fallon said. “How did you get that through the docking station?” She’d thought she’d been clever in smuggling her stinger down to the planet.
“In pieces. Lots of them. Disguised to look like small electronics.”
“Niiiiice. I’ve got to get one of those.”
“You have three,” Peregrine answered without turning to look at her. “But I’m guessing you won’t make it to your quarters at central command anytime soon.”
Fallon hadn’t even given any thought to where she’d called home previously. She still had quarters somewhere else, where her previous self had lived? She had to get there at some point. She’d at least get some insight into her life, and maybe even finally manage to jog her memory. A sudden burst of total recall would sure come in handy about now.
“Blood and bone, Peregrine.”
This time, her partner turned her head to give her a steely look and a nod. “Blood and bone.”
As she crouched in the hallway, Fallon was surprised by how easy it was to stay motionless for a long period of time. Peregrine had estimated arrival in ten minutes, but fifteen ticked by and still Fallon remained, her weight on the balls of her feet, ready to leap at any second. Her ears strained for any sound.
Finally she heard it. The faint whine of the lift’s motor, a tiny squeak, and a pause. She clenched a knife in one hand and her stinger in the other.
The doors hissed open and out stepped Raptor. Practically carrying a burly guy whose legs seemed to be made of rubber. Hawk. Scrap. Hawk was injured.
She waited until they cleared the lift and the doors closed, guarding their rear, before rising to her feet and making a gentle whistle like an ocarina bird. Raptor and Peregrine had ensured that she knew the signal, which they used among themselves. She didn’t want her teammates to turn around and shoot, thinking she was the enemy.
Raptor didn’t stop hauling Hawk toward their room, but stole a glance behind him. “Fallon,” he said with relief. “Help me out here. He made it planetside, but then started to really go downhill.”
At least it wasn’t unusual to see someone not quite in control of their faculties on Dineb. The taxi driver and others would have simply thought that Hawk had guzzled a few too many high-octane beverages.
Fallon rushed to Hawk’s other side, putting her arm around him and taking some of his weight. She imagined her spine filling with polymechrine to make her strong. The dude was heavy.
His eyes rolled and his skin was a horrid chalky gray. “Shit,” she said. “What happened?”
“A few troubles getting out. Guessing something’s ruptured,” Raptor huffed, out of breath.
At the door, Raptor did a quick knock pattern that Fallon had not previously been apprised of, and then Fallon went through the security process, opening the door as quickly as she could.
They stumbled through the doorway together, Fallon twisting awkwardly sideways because the three of them did not really fit all at once.
“Hawk!” Peregrine lifted her head from the cannon, which had been leveled right at them. “All clear?”
“All clear,” agreed Raptor. “As far as I know.”
Peregrine nodded, then seemed undecided. “Should I keep up guard, or help with Hawk?” She looked at Fallon. Well, of course she did. Fallon was their leader.
“What do you think?” she asked Raptor. “Did you come in hot? Any pursuit at all?”
“Lots. But none left living.” He didn’t seem to have breath enough for many words.
“Come help,” Fallon told Peregrine.
Together, they stripped their partner down to his underwear and went to work. He had three stinger burns on his back. They eased off a plaster that had been slapped on his chest and revealed a deep slash across his left pectoral that was gushing blood. His hands had tiny cuts and burn marks, and his left wrist had clearly been broken.
Fallon administered painkillers, antibiotics, and immune boosters while Raptor stopped the bleeding and sealed the gaping slash with a skin knitter. He seemed quite capable at it, and she’d already seen his high rating for field-medic skills. Fallon knew she couldn’t have done nearly as neat of a job, though as she watched Raptor, she realized that she did know how.
Meanwhile, Peregrine tried to keep Hawk conscious. A losing battle. His eyes kept fluttering closed, which would cause Peregrine to bark at him. She resorted to cursing, which revived Hawk briefly before his head lolled to the side again.
“He’s lost too much blood,” Raptor muttered. “Did what I could on the ship, but they were on us the whole way. I only took out the last ship an hour before we docked, and I had to spend that time forging our papers and authorization, as well as arranging an express taxi to get us here.”
Fallon rummaged through the medkit, pulling out a single packet of universal synthblood. Not enough, but it would have to do. She slapped it into Raptor’s hand and watched him break open the seal and expose the needle.
“This is going to hurt,” he said between gritted teeth.
Just as well Hawk wasn’t awake then, but his color and shallow breathing worried Fallon. He was in bad shape. They could lose him.
Fallon applied a heal-pack to Hawk’s thick, muscled chest. She had to slick away blood with her palms to get it to attach. The pack would keep delivering painkillers and immune boosters, as well as nanopods that would aid in Hawk’s healing. She could only hope the nanopods could handle the blood loss.
Finally they all sat back on their heels, surrounding Hawk on the floor of the living room as he fought for life without making a sound. Raptor watched him intently, waiting for his vital signs to stabilize.
Fallon looked at her hands, covered in her partner’s blood. She hadn’t even gotten to say hello to him yet, and she might end up having to lay him to rest. “I’ll go clean up,” she said in a low voice. At least that would be a productive way of spending the next few minutes, rather than sitting and holding her breath.
; In the necessary, she quickly scrubbed off the blood in the hydro-shower and removed her party clothes, which looked even more ridiculous now. Shameful, even. She’d been eating frozen custard when Hawk had been struggling for life. She should have been there with her partners.
She balled up the clothes and shoved them into the processor. She wore a towel to her room, then yanked on the black bodysuit that felt like a second skin to her. In this, she felt better equipped to save Hawk.
Not that there was anything for her to do for him now. Her attention shifted to Raptor as she rejoined the others, only minutes after she’d left. “What about you? Any injuries?”
He still sat next to Hawk. He looked up at her, his face lined in a way she hadn’t seen before. He looked older. Exhausted. “Just some scratches and bruises.”
All of Hawk’s visible injuries to his front side were gone, as though they’d been erased. Fallon looked over Raptor’s shoulder to see the readout from the medical scanner. It was a woeful substitute for a techbed, but it showed a steady heart rate and breathing. Hopefully they would stay that way.
“We need to roll him and get those stinger burns, now that he’s stable,” Peregrine said to Fallon.
The three of them rolled him onto his stomach, and Fallon cringed at the three burn marks in Hawk’s back. They weren’t life threatening where they were located, but they must have been hideously painful. As Raptor worked on Hawk’s back, Fallon sat next to them, her hand on Hawk’s shoulder.
She leaned down. “Hang in there,” she murmured. “We’ve got you. Blood and bone don’t quit.”
When she straightened, she saw a surprised expression on Peregrine’s face. Raptor, too, had frozen, his gaze riveted on her.
“What?” she asked, defensively.
“What did you just say?” Peregrine asked.
“Just…blood and bone don’t quit.”
“Why?” Raptor asked.
“I don’t know. Just seemed like the right…thing.” She shrugged.
Peregrine and Raptor exchanged a look.
“What?” Fallon asked again, annoyed.
Raptor went back to working on Hawk.
