Return Fire by Charles Ingrid

Author:Charles Ingrid [Ingrid, Charles]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, General, Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 9780886773632
Publisher: DAW
Published: 1989-01-01T23:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 13

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The ache in his throat and lungs brought him awake. With every breath he took, it felt as though he'd been burned, the air rasping through seared tissue. He coughed, gasped with the pain, coughed again, and writhed with the effort except that he was pinned down and could do nothing more than toss his head. His eyes watered so heavily that he could not see, and he could not free his hands to wipe them.

It was somewhere in the middle of this misery that he realized he was still alive and that it was the suit which kept him so.

Jack wrinkled his brow and eyelids tightly, trying to wring his eyes dry enough to see. When he opened them finally, he got a hazy view of smoke and flame, of metal still hot enough to glow in the dark, and of a jagged portal to the evening sky. He heard low moans and cries. Plastic fumes stank on the raw air. He ducked his chin, found the drinking nipple operative and took a tiny sip of water. It stung all the way down, but the second swallow was easier.

He lay back, cradled in the armor, and concentrated on feeling his body, every contortion and ache, though in the gloaming he could see nothing below his neck. Half the building must have fallen on him. His feet felt numb until he realized it was the double booting constricting him. The realization halted the panicky drum of his pulse—he had thought he'd been crushed from the knees down.

His helmet was gone, torn away. It must lie beyond him, out of view and reach—and, he hoped, unnoticed by the scavengers which were probably already crawling all over the shop. Even as he began to assess his options, he could hear grunts and rattles, and a piece of sheet metal falling away, to crash on the flooring to his left. The noise echoed in his pounding skull. Jack closed his eyes tightly and prayed for the pain to go away so that he could think clearly.

Boss… Bogie's voice, faded to a thready reflection of his normal hardy tones.

Jack realized that the comforting softness he pillowed his sore neck and head upon was Bogie. "Are you hurt?"

No. Hungry—

The sentience was growing rapidly now, and his regeneration took all the sunlight he could absorb. Usually, through the suit and the built-in solars, it was no problem. But having been locked up, Bogie must be feeling drained. Though sunlight was his preferred energy source, Bogie could—and had—taken from Jack. How hungry was the alien?

Jack felt a cold, sweat bead up on his forehead. "How bad is it?"

He sensed a peevish echo as Bogie only answered, Hungry.

His stomach clenched at the thought. "Me, too, Boog." With the helmet gone, he could not see his readouts. "Are we powered up or do we have a red field?"

Being buried would not drain the armor, but damage and shortage might. Although he did not smell the acrid scent of burned out circuitry within the suit, the air was full of it.

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