Out of the Tank (Privateer Tales Book 7)

by Jamie McFarlane

  OUT OF THE TANK

  JAMIE McFARLANE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Cover Artwork: Patricia Leonardo Cavalieri

  Copyright © 2015 Jamie McFarlane

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-943792-03-0

  ISBN-10: 1943792038

  CONTENTS

  OUT OF THE TANK

  CONTENTS

  OUT OF THE TANK

  KATHRYNE'S

  AN OLD FRIEND

  SHADOW OF OLYMPUS

  TWICE IN A DAY

  LIKE A HOUSE AFIRE

  KEYHOLES AND CAVERNS

  GLASS HOUSES

  TROUBLE FINDS ME

  TRANSFERENCE

  BREAKING POINT

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CONTACT JAMIE

  OUT OF THE TANK

  I tried opening my eyes. The light seeping in felt like icicles.

  “It’s okay, Tabitha. You haven’t used your eyes for over a month, so it will take some getting used to. I’ve lowered the lights. Now, try again.”

  I didn’t recognize the voice.

  “Where’s Liam?” I asked.

  “He’s still in the tank room. I’ve sent Benji to wake him,” the voice said.

  I shook my head, eyes still closed. The priorities of the Navy were the same as always. I could imagine Liam, asleep on a bench, faithfully waiting for me to be pulled from the tank, left behind because dealing with civilians wasn’t in a sailor's job description.

  Slowly, consciousness returned and with it sensations I thought were gone forever. Nerve endings screamed and twitched, demanding my attention. I wiggled the fingers of my right hand and felt them move beneath the covers of the bed. I flapped my feet back and forth and giggled quietly to myself. For months, I’d neither legs nor my right arm and now they were pulsing with life. I opened my eyes a smidgen. I had to see what my new fingers looked like. As I pulled my arm from beneath the covers, everything suddenly felt very wrong. Where I’d expected weak, my new limb was quite the opposite and before I knew what had happened, I’d smacked myself in the face.

  “Careful there, Tabitha. Your brain needs to reconcile this new strength. You’ve received upgrades and you're still processing with the old model,” he said. “Just take everything slowly, like you’re encased in Jell-O.”

  I relaxed my arm muscles and allowed the limb to slump down next to me. So much for getting an easy look at things. At least the pain in my eyes helped clear the fogginess caused by whatever anesthesia I’d been under.

  Raise bed to seated position, sixty degrees, I said.

  Soon, I was comfortably sitting up. I forced my eyes open and blinked back tears as I adjusted to the dim light in the room. When I looked around, whoever had been there when I woke up was gone. Liam turned the corner into my room, his hair rumpled as if he’d just been awoken. I loved how focused he was, looking intently for me. He was the kindest, most loyal person I knew and I wouldn’t let go of him again.

  "There you are," I said, my voice hardly recognizable.

  When he got within arm's reach, I pulled him onto me. I’d snaked my right arm out slowly and successfully controlled its movement. I must have taken him off guard, because he didn't put up much resistance.

  "How are you feeling?" he asked.

  "Strange. I'd gotten used to not being able to feel my arm or my legs. They feel different than before. It's hard to explain," I said.

  "You'll get over that," a distinctive voice said. "Your brain is just now starting to process the signals from the new nerves.” It was my physical therapist, the same one who’d helped me recover from the loss of my limbs. I hoped she was here to get me on my feet again.

  "Patricia! I'm so glad you came," I said.

  She entered the room and we embraced. As people went, she was the best. It was funny how Liam couldn’t see it.

  "It's not every day I get to see one of my girls walk again. I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said.

  "Are you my physical therapist?" I asked.

  "No, kiddo," she said. "Believe it or not, you're on your own for this one."

  "How will that work? I have no control." I lifted my right hand, intending to show how wobbly and uncoordinated it was. I barely ducked to the left in time as my hand flew past and struck the wall behind me. It should have hurt, but I didn’t feel it too much.

  "Careful with that, your muscles are stronger than you're used to, so you just want to take it slow. Control will come back quickly and after that, strength you can only currently imagine. Try something for me. Lift your arm, but think about lifting a feather very slowly," she said.

  It was a word picture I could relate to, so I pretended to pick a feather up from the bed. I did seem to have a measure of control.

  "How will I do it without you?" I asked. I couldn’t imagine I’d be able to figure everything out on my own.

  "You'll get the hang of it," she said with a smile. "Do everything very slowly and make sure to get your muscles thoroughly massaged a couple of times a day. If you have trouble, just call me. Other than that, go easy on your boy here. He's about to discover what it's like to regularly get his ass kicked by his girlfriend.

  "That won't be new for him. I used to kick his ass all the time," I said.

  "He seems like good people," Patricia said. "I'm sending you an exercise program. It will let you know what you should be working on and when."

  "Thank you," I said. She hugged me goodbye and I returned it, careful not to squeeze too much.

  "Did she just say something nice about me?" Liam asked after she'd left.

  "She's really not mean. I just don't think she likes to deal with all the emotional stuff with new amputees," I said.

  "I volunteer to be your masseuse,” Liam said with a grin. It sounded like a good idea to me.

  "We'll have plenty of time for that. Help me get up,” I said.

  I pulled the cover back using my left hand. I looked down and was grateful that someone had dressed me in a pair of black shorts. Damn, my legs looked amazing. I’d been told a medical AI had stimulated my new synthetic muscles during the time I was in the tank. The effect was amazing. It was a confusing moment, though. I had two conflicting mental images - my damaged stumps as well as the memory of my original legs. I decided that I very much liked how things had turned out.

  I looked to Liam’s face and it was flush with emotion.

  "See anything you like?" I asked. If I had felt cruel, which I didn’t, I could have said something sappy and made him cry. He leaned in for another hug and I pulled him in hard. We’d been through a lot and he had never turned away . If our roles had been reversed, I feared I wouldn't have had the same strength and devotion.

  "You're cutting off my air," he finally gasped.

  "Oh. Sorry." I’d need to be more careful with that, but I didn't yet have a sense of how much pressure I was exerting.

  I swung my legs off the bed, leaned forward and stood up, using Liam as a guide.
<
br />   "Good?" he asked.

  "Mirror." I nodded to the wall behind Liam, where a full length reflective surface was embedded.

  Liam moved out of the way, still holding my hand. I stepped forward and took it all in. I'd lost much of the skin on my torso to the explosions. My eyes settled on my right shoulder where the synthetic skin seamlessly stitched together with my own. I could just make out the transition, but it was difficult. Satisfied, my eyes traced downward along my new arm and I wiggled my fingers to prove to myself that they were really mine. I spun around and looked over my shoulder inspecting my bum and then my legs. Everything was perfect, maybe too perfect. I checked my thoughts. I'd never again complain about this second chance I'd been given.

  "What do you think?" Liam asked.

  Emotions threatened to overwhelm me and I bit them back. My family was stoic to a fault and I was afraid I was about to give in to the moment.

  "It's amazing. I can hardly see a difference," I said. "Help me walk."

  "Okay, I'll go backwards." He faced me and placed his hands on my hips.

  I knew I had to take it very slowly. If my arm had that much power, I couldn’t imagine what my legs might do. I followed him as he backed up through the door and down the hallway. Every step made it easier.

  "Getting tired?" he asked when we'd made it to the end of the hallway.

  "Are you kidding? I feel like I'm in .1g," I said. That wasn’t even a reasonable explanation, but he’d understand it.

  Liam turned us around and we started back. My doctor, Commander Sonia Lemaigre, was standing outside the door to my room watching us.

  "Sonia. What are you doing here?" I asked. She hadn't had much to do with my mostly robotic-controlled surgery.

  "I volunteered to be your attending during your transition," she said.

  "How long does transition take?" I asked.

  "We're about halfway through it. I just need to take a couple of readings and you can get on your way," she said.

  "You don't waste much time, do you?" Liam asked.

  "No, Mr. Hoffen. This is a victory lap in my profession. Hold on, Tabitha, and let me get a reading on you," she said. Dr. Lemaigre pulled a small device from her lab coat's pocket and ran it along my skin. "Perfect, just like I'd expect. The nanobots in your skin are healthy and happy."

  "I'm done?" I asked.

  "You're a free woman, Tabitha. You might consider putting on some clothes though," she said.

  I knew she was going to leave, so I hugged her and tried to convey my appreciation for all her care. The Veteran's Hospital staff were such good people, giving so much of themselves to help us recover. If it were up to Commander Lemaigre, all vets would receive reconstructive surgery.

  I watched as she walked away briskly. No doubt she also felt the emotion of the day.

  “You really are going to need some clothing,” Liam said. “Maybe head over to Kathryne’s?”

  “What? Don’t you like what you see?”

  All of my new skin was synthetically grown and easily dealt with a much wider range of temperatures, so I wasn't feeling any particular need for clothes.

  “No. It’s great, but … people are looking,” he answered.

  To be honest, the thin strip of cloth across my chest and the tiny black shorts were a bit risqué. I’d lived as an amputee for almost half a year and I didn’t mind a bit that men and women alike were staring at my new form. I knew the feeling would eventually get old, but for now, I planned to fully embrace it.

  KATHRYNE'S

  When in Puskar Stellar, the only place I was willing to shop for clothing was Kathryne’s Boutique. I’d lost my civvies when the M-Pro Navy ship I was assigned to had been destroyed by a Red Houzi pirate fleet. It was the same battle that had taken my legs and right arm.

  Kathryne Liszt and her daughter, Tali, were good friends. Kathryne had a soft spot for us military types, probably because Tali had been Special Forces and went through reconstructive surgery of her own.

  I carefully pushed open the door to Kathryne’s shop and found her seated in a comfortable chair, reading on a pad. She stood to greet us and we embraced. As I pulled back, she sniffled slightly and looked away as she wiped her eyes.

  “I wondered when I might see you again, Tabitha,” Kathryne said as Liam and I followed her further back into the shop. “It would appear that you are once again in need of my services. Did you really travel over here in that?”

  “Just stretching my legs. Do you like?” I asked, smiling.

  “Your legs are lovely, dear, but I prefer a more demure presentation. What are you in the mood for?” she asked, leading me back to her cluttered office. Reluctantly, Liam followed along behind us. It was amusing how Kathryne intimidated him.

  “Simple red dress, mid-thigh and maybe a jacket,” I said.

  “I’ve a new fabric I’ve been wanting to try out. It has adjustable colors,” she said.

  “Is that a new thing?” I asked. I’d seen plenty of clothing in the markets of Puskar Stellar that changed patterns and colors. I wasn’t sure how that might be special.

  “See for yourself,” Kathryne said, lifting a small wrapped package from her desk.

  I looked from Kathryne to the package and back. I hadn’t told her I was coming, but the woman had a spooky way of anticipating people’s needs. I accepted the small bundle and removed the decorative wrapping. Inside was a thin, black dress, which felt silky smooth. I held it by its narrow shoulders and let it hang in front of me.

  “It’s gorgeous. How did you know?” I asked.

  “Try it on,” she said, ignoring my question.

  Just then, my earwig announced that I was receiving an incoming comm request from an ex-shipmate - Shri Ganguly.

  Before the pirate attack on Colony 40, I hadn’t known Shri other than in passing. We’d connected in the aftermath, both recuperating at the Veteran’s Hospital in Puskar Stellar. We had become good friends, as only people who’ve been through traumatic events together can. Shri had lost both of her legs at the knee and even worse, received third degree burns over most of her body.

  The last we’d spoken, she was getting along well physically with her prosthetic replacements and synthetic skin, but the emotional scars still haunted her. So much so, that she often froze in place when flashing back to the events. I wondered if she'd ever heal from the mental trauma. I counted myself lucky to have had the good fortune of getting knocked unconscious when I'd received my injuries.

  I excused myself and walked out of the office to one of the changing rooms.

  I picked up the comm.

  “Tabby, you’re out of the tank! You were supposed to call me, first thing,” Shri said.

  “Just got out, we’re getting some clothes. They don’t leave you with much,” I said.

  “How do they feel?” Shri asked.

  Shri had shared with me her longing to have her body restored and for life to revert to the way it was before. The attack had taken away more than just her limbs. I wasn't sure when or if that sense of safety might return for her.

  “It’s a lot to get used to. I have to be careful when I’m walking. It’s like my legs want to take off on their own. I’ve fallen down a few times already,” I said.

  “They say that’s pretty normal," Shri said. "You should expect a few weeks of transition. I’ve broken a few of mother’s dishes. She hasn’t said anything, but I know it bothers her.”

  “Any word on surgery?” I asked. Shri’s family ran a fruit farm six hundred kilometers southeast of Puskar Stellar.

  “Maybe next year. It’s very expensive. So, are you ever going to tell me how you paid for yours?” she asked.

  I’d successfully dodged this question before, but Shri was smart and I think she suspected we had been involved in the events leading up to the capture of the Red Houzi dreadnaught. The whole thing had been well publicized and coincided neatly with when I’d arrived back on Mars.

  “Hey, I’ve got to get going. Can I call
you back later?” I asked.

  “Sure. I was hoping you would come out to the farm. We’ve a large house,” she said.

  “Absolutely, just tell me when,” I said.

  “What about next weekend?” she asked.

  “I’ll talk to Liam, but I’m sure we can make that work,” I said.

  “Great. Call me tonight, okay?”

  “I will.” I closed the comm. I stripped off the small amount of clothing I’d worn over from the hospital and pulled on the cute panties Kathryne had thoughtfully provided. The material of the dress was sumptuous and I loved how it felt sliding along my torso. When my right hand refused to let go, I had to focus to release the material. Panic set in, making me afraid I’d damaged something, but looking in the mirror, I didn't see anything wrong.

  “You okay in there?” Liam’s voice filtered into the changing room.

  “Yes. Just a minute,” I replied.

  “Kathryne wants you to try some shoes with that,” he said. “I’m leaving them outside the door, okay?”

  “Yes.”

  I opened the door and pulled the shoes inside - gorgeous, black high heels. I smiled. Kathryne knew her stuff - that much was certain. I stared at myself in the mirror. I’d always thought of myself as gawky, too thin, not much up top and no butt. Losing my legs had taught me that to complain about such things was self-absorbed. I would appreciate what I had because I’d learned what not having it meant. The woman looking back at me in the mirror was strangely whole. Her legs long and gorgeous.

  Walking on heels wasn’t foreign, but in my current situation, I was concerned. I opened the door and held onto the door frame, trying not to fall. I hated being the target of pity and I wouldn’t have Liam and Kathryne see me stumbling. Straightening my back, I concentrated, slowly moving one leg in front of the other. My previous experience in heels had always left my calves screaming. Today, however, I felt as if I was in zero-g. I confidently walked through the store toward Kathryne’s office and almost made it. At the last moment, I lost concentration when I saw Liam stand up. My right leg jumped inelegantly and I dropped in a heap on the floor, unable to find a suitable balance. Worse yet, I’d grabbed at nearby piles of material and pulled two stacks down on myself.