The Widening Gyre by Michael R. Johnston

Author:Michael R. Johnston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Flame Tree Publishing
Published: 2019-01-28T10:18:52+00:00

Chapter Eight

When I came back to myself, I was lying on my back, staring up at a large sheet of cloth stretched between what looked like two large sticks. Beneath me was hard clay soil, swept clear but baked hard from the midday sun I could see peeking through the rents in the fabric above me. There was a hot wind blowing over me, whipping the fabric above into a frenzy of motion.

I turned my head to the right and saw a small brown-skinned reptile, covered in spines, sitting under a rock, watching me. “Hey,” I said – or, rather, I croaked – to it. “Where am I?” It didn’t answer, but just stared at me. “Not a talker, huh?” I asked it. “Well, fuck off, then.” My voice sounded strange to my ears.

It looked at me for a long moment, then jumped at something and ran off, disappearing under the edge of the tent. I tried to sit up, but that was clearly a mistake, according to my back, and I slumped again, fighting the urge to scream, and failing. Panting with the pain, I tried to take stock of my injuries. There was pain in my left arm, both legs, and my head was pounding like a Kelvaki chieftain was beating war drums behind my eyes. That was about all I could really tell, though I suspected my right leg, at least, was broken. It seemed to have been splinted, but without my NeuroNet I couldn’t assess the damage easily.

The flap of the tent was brushed aside and Ben entered, carrying a bundle of something wrapped in a blanket. “You’re awake,” he said. “That’s probably a good thing.”

“Probably?”

He shrugged. “Well, you’re beat all to shit, frankly. And given our situation, you’re going to want to jump back into action, and in case you haven’t noticed, you’re beat all to shit.” He put the bundle down beside me and began unwrapping it. “Not to mention that you’re beat all to shit.”

I laughed, which pretty much immediately became writhing in pain, because like he said, I was beat all to shit. “How bad am I?” I asked after the pain passed.

“You’re pretty bad, but nothing a shower wouldn’t cure,” he said matter-of-factly. I stared at him. “Oh, you meant medically.” He grinned. “Let’s put it this way, you won’t be walking for a few days yet.”

“Days? It feels broken.”

“Oh, it is. In three places. But I found this in the wreckage.” He held up a medkit. “It’s got a full-on nano-surgery unit and it seems to be working. I’ll fuse your bones and take care of the rest of your wounds too.” He looked me over, and grimaced. “Given the extent of your injuries, it’ll take three or four days.”

“That won’t work. Without a medcomp we can’t manage the nanites.”

“Tch. I know you military types sometimes had to do it yourself, but you’re not in the military anymore. And fortunately for you, you’re not the only person with a NeuroNet.” He tapped his temple.

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