Devil His Due
(Big heaping helping of thanks to Terri and Jay for RPing this with me. Thanks, you two!--Maer)
An excerpt of Peripatetica, M. K. Sebastien, Engr. ret.
Sunday, 24 Sep 2519
Kuiper II class, Summer’s Gift
Bivouac, Miranda
Blue Sun (Qing Long) system
01:47 hrs, local time
The repairs continued and the long list of things left undone dogged my waking hours. I worked like a demon to get through it, despite the heat onboard and off; despite the lack of fabrication tools, now slowly acquired and installed in the aft lounge. Despite the need to baby my arm and the rest of the crew keeping me honest about it. In the week immediately after landing on Miranda I cheated on Arden’s orders whenever I could get away with it, first with the shuttle repairs and later with the Gift. We were now five weeks back from Pala and the healing cut still bothered me, and the combination of the heat aboard the ship and the steady ache from the injury conspired to keep me awake long after I’d retired for the night.
An hour’s vain tossing to get comfortable saw me without a wink of sleep or a scrap of patience left, and I rose from my bunk exhausted and irritable. My shoulder protested. I ignored it. I was hot and sore, and remembered the water we had in the galley fridge.
One bottle, I thought. Just one and maybe an aspirin and I’ll check over that refit in the engine room.
I stood in nothing but the barest minimum for modesty: jog bra and exercise shorts. It was too hot to don a robe or even a shirt. Hell with it. If the cameras catch me, then they catch me. Maybe it’ll kill the series and we can finally kick Jake’s cameras off our boat. For that, I’d happily go naked.
The corridor was dark and empty when I quit my quarters, the emergency lighting dim and red. It was enough to see my way to the galley, little though I needed it. Of late I’d walked the length and breadth of this ship half conscious from overwork and could find my way around it blindfolded. The water was where I’d expected it and the cold bottle felt sinfully good against my forehead. I closed the fridge and leaned against the counter, warming that bottle as I moved it to my neck.
So damned hot aboard... I unscrewed the cap and took a long pull, relished the path the water made down my gullet, chilling my insides. I’d make my way aft in a minute, as soon as the water did its job. If I worked a couple hours more, I might be exhausted enough to sleep despite the heat. One or two items on that list put to bed and then I’d turn in.
I padded silently back to my quarters. After a month of constant repairs and round-the-clock shift changes, we’d learned to sleep through any incidental noise made in passing. As Nika once remarked: busting our tails to get the ship fixed, making sure we’ve got enough food stores for both on the ground and shipboard when we manage to get her up and running, and taking turns watching the comatose patient so Arden can sleep too.... That had become our routine and I made my way as quietly as possible. Gonna need my heavy kit. Been seeing a lot of use with that one lately. I knelt before the bunk drawer where I’d taken to stashing my tools and started packing my bag, moving slowly to avoid waking the others.
“Rina, don’t make me hit you over the head with something,” Nika grumbled from my door.
So much for being quiet.
I looked up and saw Nika clad in nothing but her skivvies and a long tee shirt, her hair tousled and coming loose from its habitual braid.
“Christ, Nika, I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it. “I’ll just be a minute and then I’ll get to the engine room. I’ll shut the door and you won’t hear a thing.”
I quickly zipped up my bag and rising from the deck I slung the strap without thinking around my neck. It hit my collarbone and the pain nearly made me crumble. I disguised it, making a show of adjusting the strap and slipped past Nika. The sooner I got to the engine room away from prying eyes, the better.
“What is it?” Nika shot a hand across the door and blocked my path, her blue eyes narrowing. Even mostly asleep, those eyes of hers missed nothing. “You winced. Is your arm still giving you trouble? And this is not resting.” She pointed at my bag. “Arden said if you don’t quit pushing it, you’re going to do permanent damage, Rina. Is that what you want? Cuz then you could be stuck with no freakin’ fingers to tinker with.”
“Arden worries too much,” I shot back, hot and sore and none too careful with my tone. “Can’t sleep. Too hot. Might as well be useful. Go back to bed. Everything’s fine.”
I ducked her arm and strode aft.
It was warm on the ship, a consequence of keeping the power low to preserve it, and most of us chose the cooler environs of the hospital when we slept. Even so, there were occasions when sleeping aboard was unavoidable based on duties upon our waking. Mine had me aboard pretty constantly, thus my current difficulties. My tools bounced on my hip as I went and I slapped a hand on the bag to still their clanking. The last thing I wanted was a dressing down from the others who might be present. Hearing it from Nika was bad enough. I keyed the lock sequence on the engine room door and shoved it open when it clicked.
Get some work in my hands and I’ll be fine. Morning’ll be here before I know it. I’ll take another cold shower then.
Nika didn’t follow me inside, which suited me fine. I heard her move for'ard and put her out of mind. I closed the door and got to work.
“Stubborn bitch…” I heard Nika grouse a moment later. “Use this. If your temp’s normal, I’ll leave you alone. If it’s not, you’re outta here.”
I hadn’t heard the door open and Nika’s unexpected arrival made me jump, and I lost the wires I’d fished from the snake’s nest overhead. I slammed my hands against the console undercarriage and swore, and pulled myself to my feet. When I saw what she held, I let her have it.
“You can shove it up my frikkin’ ass! Go away, I’m busy.”
“Don’t. Tempt. Me.” Her voice ground out in the heated air between us. “You have two seconds, and then I’ll just get Arden in here to eyeball your stubborn ass.” She held the thermometer out, pursed her lips and gave me the look.
I knew that look. I hated that look.
To hell with that look.
By now I was thoroughly pissed and in no mood for games. I gripped my wrench and pointed my chin toward the door.
“Go ahead,” I growled. “Wake him up.”
Nika shrugged and pivoted on her heel and made for the crew quarters, apparently in no mood for games either. The instant she’d cleared the threshold, I slammed the door shut and locked it, hacked a bypass on the controls outside. If they wanted to get me, they’d have to work for it.
God, what’s a gal gotta do to get some work done around here?
My temperature rose with my growing anger as I crawled back under the console and hunted for the damned wires again. I fished. I swore. I slammed the deck with my wrench. I got those wires and followed them to their coupler and sure enough, it was fried.
Just as I thought.
I fumbled for my bag without looking, keeping a firm grip on the damned wires, and got the box of spares I’d scavved a week back. I plopped the lot on my chest and flipped the lid open, and started squinting at the amps stamped on the couplers. There should be one in the box that could carry the load I had in my hands.
It had been hot in my cabin and the engine room was no better. If anything, it was worse. My head hurt from the heat, making it hard to see. I took a deep breath and clenched my pen torch in my teeth, read the tiny print on the parts and kept on working. Damned if I’d let my headache and a stupid box of parts win.
I finally got everything rewired and coupled and slapped the access panel closed with satisfaction. I rolled out from under and stood up and immediately the trip hammers in my head started pounding again.
Damned heat. Time for some water.
I’d drained my bottle over an hour ago and I bent to grab the empty off the floor, gritting my teeth as my brains shifted inside my skull. There’d be more bottles in the galley, I knew and though it was late, it was still too early for anyone else to be up. I could get that water and a couple aspirin and hit my bunk. Try to get some sleep.
I straightened, endured another internal swamping from my head, and disengaged the hack on the door. I pushed through to the corridor outside, thinking only of chasing down those aspirin with something cold.
Something rose off the floor on my right and I spun, stumbling, and came up in guard position. Then my eyes caught up with my twitchiness, and my brain a second later. It was Nika, holding up a water bottle. Damn, but she must have been sitting and waiting for me since I’d slammed the door on her. Her expression told me enough: not in the mood for games, no, but clearly not in the mood to drop the subject either. Stubborn bitch. I sagged against the bulkhead and slid to sit on the floor.
“Dierma, Nika. Say something next time, willya? I damn near clobbered you.” I let my head fall back to the bulkhead and waited for the corridor to stop spinning. Huh. When did that start happening?
“Say something?” the blonde pilot replied calmly. “How’s this for size: You about ready to act like a fuckin’ adult?” She tossed the water at me. Hard.
“Ow.” I drew my knees up as the bottle hit my lap and clapped my hands over my ears. “I’m right here. You don’t have to shout.” Like the Voice of God. What’s going on with her?
What’s going on with you? the back of my head whispered past the throbbing. I held my breath, hoping it would quell the pain long enough for me to listen to what I had to say. Something important...
“You are sick. You are flushed and sweaty and pale all at the same time, and you look like you’re about ready to croak where you sit. Arden’s in medlab waiting for you,” Nika sat there and told me, making no attempt to lower her voice. “If you go back to your quarters, he’s just going to show up there and check you out. And if you lock him out, I will break into your quarters, and I will beat you severely about the head and shoulders with a socket wrench just because I can.” That drawl of hers was out, ample warning of promised mayhem if I refused to obey. “Some days, darlin’, you ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed.”
“Looks’ll fool ya,” I said, knowing Nika’s assessment to be the truth but too stubborn—or desperate—over matters to care. No way am I letting a scratch lay me out. “Just lemme grab a few hours of sleep and I’ll be fine. No need to wake anyone for this.”
I opened the water she threw me and gulped it down. It slithered to my stomach and coiled there, making me queasy. I swallowed against the nausea and pushed to my feet. Maybe I’ll need something more than that aspirin, I thought. Then the deck slammed into my face and I helplessly watched the bottle empty itself next to me, wishing I could do the same with my head. Nika’s bare feet filled my vision and her voice cottoned my ears and then I knew nothing more...
***
I would like to say here that had I been less feverish, I would not have put up so determined a fight in the face of such compelling evidence of my illness. As it was, I’d refused to acknowledge it and paid for it by planting myself face down on the deck. Nika later told me she’d shouted for Arden and together they’d peeled me off the floor and carried me into medlab, where Arden got me on the table and got to work saving my stubborn ass.
But now I’m getting ahead of myself…
***
I couldn’t move. God help me I couldn’t move. Fire bathed me head to toe. Barbed wire dug through my skull, winding tighter and tighter, shredding my brain until it leaked from my ears, poured from my mouth, choking me. Molten metal had replaced my bones, searing me from the inside out. My collarbone was the worst, melting down through my throat and chest, cutting off my air, slicing me in two.
Incredibly I could still see, albeit hazily, and Arden stood over me with his scalpel. Light gleamed on the blade as it descended and I tried to dodge the killing stroke I knew was coming. Hands held me down, red-hot branding irons impaling me to the table, and I screamed, I gibbered, I sobbed for mercy, for deliverance … for oblivion.
The scalpel found my flesh and I got what I begged for.
What I said of Broken holds true here, too. Like, by a factor of ten. Which you'll find out in Devil His Due, Part 2. See more of Jay's work using the timeline links below.
Go back to Of Shoes and Ships and Sealing Wax | Go to Devil His Due, Part 2
Go to Peripatetica - Rina's Journal entry and RP log
Go to Rina's Russian Glossary
Go to Rina's Crew Page
Go to EPISODES or TIMELINE
