Chaos Space - Marianne de Pierres [51]
‘You did it, Fedor!’
Somewhere among the tendrils of requests and screeds of location data Mira knew Rast’s twang.
You may relinquish everything now, Mira. I am healed enough.
Insignia sounded disappointed and just faintly amused, Mira thought, like a parent who had watched their child try and fail. She detached herself from the add-ons and plucked the lozenge from the sink. Blinking brought the rest of the buccal into focus. She coughed and manoeuvred her body to the edge of the sink where she sat with her head in her hands.
‘Fedor.’
Rast again. This time, though, the woman stood in front of her, swaying. Her hair was slick with tubercle secretions, her face shiny.
‘Are ... are you well?’ Mira enquired politely.
‘Am I well?’ Rast gave a snorting laugh. ‘You’ve just taken us through res-shift and you’re asking if I’m well?’
‘No, I—’ Mira stopped. Perhaps it was safer for her if Rast believed it. ‘Yes, I mean ... I guess so,’ she finished limply.
‘I guess so?’ Rast laughed again but this one was belly-deep and tinged with relief. ‘You’re even beginning to sound like one of us. We’ve got some bodies to get rid of and then we’ll be up in the mess celebrating. Join us when you’ve got your head straight. How is the ‘zoon doing, by the way? Things were messy down there. Those bastards took a blowtorch to her.’
Mira shuddered. ‘Insignia is stable. I will be along in a while.’
The last flicker of concern left Rast’s face and she managed to saunter out.
Mira sighed. The mercenary seemed to thrive on danger. Why can’t I be like that? Why does each hurdle make me more tired?
She placed her hands on her abdomen and prodded at the lower area. Had the baby been harmed? And why now, when she so craved only solitude, did her body demand food? She could not face the others yet.
Insignia, how are your wounds?
I am depleted of fluids but Scolar is close. I have time to replenish.
What would have happened to us if you hadn‘t recovered sufficiently?
Insignia hesitated. It is deeply instinctive for me to survive resonance shift. Even wounded.
So I was wrong to use Autonomy.
Silence.
But Mira could not let it rest. If I had maintained Autonomy would I have killed us?
Yes. You are inexpert.
A longer silence this time while Mira fretted over her choices. Why would Landhurst cripple you?
It is the nature of some to destroy what they can’t have. But more, he did not think that you would have the courage to attempt an Autonomous shift. He did not count on your resolve.
Mira felt warmth soak from the vein into her aching, weak muscles. You are comforting me. Can I do anything for you?
You can sleep and recover. Then we will discuss my Autonomy component. It is time you had some proper tuition.
Instead, Mira dragged herself to the cucina.
The cellar shelves stood unfolded and bare. The mercenaries were drinking straight from demijohns -the last of the Araldisian wines.
‘Saved you one, Baronessa.’ Rast swung a full bottle up from beside her. ‘Figured you, out of all of us, deserved it.’
Mira accepted the bottle and searched for a flute. She found one in a cabinet full of Pellegrini-crested utensils. Rubbing the stem of the glass gently between her fingers she took a seat on the side of the table opposite the mercenaries.
The first sip tasted harsh, not only because of the acidic wine but because of the memory it evoked. Her last drink had been with Faja. Tears pricked the rims of her eyes.
‘When you came tottering down that docking tube and pulled out a pistol, Fedor, I nearly pissed my pants,’ Rast pronounced. ‘Thought you were going to shoot me. You better watch out or I’ll start counting you as one of ours.’
Mira stiffened at the good-natured comment. ‘I would never kill for a living.’
‘See, Capo, you throw her a bone and she gets all hoity,’ observed Catchut, with a belch.
But Rast ignored him. She lifted her blood-spattered boots up on the table and rocked back on her chair. ‘Do you think your farcast got sent to OLOSS?’
Mira turned away from the disgusting sight of the mercenary