Peter David - After Earth

Kitai followed his father’s instructions. The communication rack had been damaged, which did not surprise him in the least. Considering the pounding the ship had taken upon entering wherever the hell they had wound up, Kitai would have been astounded to find anything intact. Nevertheless, he managed to find the emergency beacon. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands; the bottom of it had been crushed.

Figures .

Disappointed, Kitai climbed down from the cockpit and brought it to his father. As he handed it over, he said in a voice kept deliberately low to hide his emotions, “I don’t think it works.”

Cypher made that determination quickly by trying to switch it on. Nothing. The activity light remained off. Quickly Cypher detached and examined the mangled lower section of the beacon.

Kitai didn’t know any of the construction details of the device, but seeing Cypher’s expression told him how completely screwed they were. For just a heartbeat he saw despair in his father’s face. But just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. Cypher Raige was not someone who gave in to despair, and he certainly wouldn’t do so with anyone watching, much less his son.

Cypher didn’t say anything for a few long seconds. Then, still studying the beacon in his hands, he said, “Kitai, my left shoulder is dislocated. Come here.”

Dislocated? Kitai thought. Oh, God. You’ve got to be kidding me .

Cypher was already positioning himself flat on his back, his face unreadable. He then took Kitai’s left foot and placed it on his shoulder. “Take my wrist with both hands.”

Kitai’s stomach muscles clenched. “Wait… Dad, wait—!”

Cypher ignored his son’s obvious concern. “You need to pull as hard as you can.”

No, I can’t. You can’t ask this of me. You—

Even as all his protests rampaged through his head, Kitai knew there was no point in offering any of them aloud. They all boiled down to the same thing: Dad, please don’t make me do this. I know you’re in huge amounts of pain right now, but pulling on your arm really hard is more than I can take .

And that was unacceptable. Kitai had to do what he had to do.

He took hold of his father’s wrist, grasped it as tightly as he could, and mouthed, “One… two…” before pulling as hard as he could, his muscles straining.

Cypher screamed in agony.

It was such a horrifying noise that it jolted his arm right out of Kitai’s grasp. Kitai fell backward and lay there, terrified, as Cypher spent long seconds gasping for breath. As soon as he had air in his lungs, Cypher said with grim determination, “We didn’t get it. We didn’t get it.”

A pit opened in Kitai’s stomach.

“One more!” Cypher insisted. “Pull harder, cadet. I’ve been through worse.”

Kitai picked himself up. He had no choice in the matter.

Kitai braced himself as he held his father’s wrist. He was going to do it this time. He had to.

This time it was Cypher who did the counting, and he did so out loud. “One,” he said, looking steadily into Kitai’s eyes. “Two.” And then, unhesitatingly, without the least hint of the pain he had to be anticipating, “Three.”

Kitai leaned back and pulled for all he was worth. The cracking sound in his father’s shoulder was awful, like stones grinding together. But worst of all was the long bellow of agony that escaped from Cypher’s lips.

It came from a place so deep inside that Kitai didn’t even want to think about it, and it echoed through what remained of the ruined ship for what seemed like an impossibly long time.

By the time it was over, Kitai was sure it was his own pain. It took him a moment to remember that it wasn’t, to separate himself from it, and to look up into his father’s face to see if his effort had done any good.

Gasping for air as if he had run a sprint, Cypher tested his shoulder. He revolved his arm in its socket—not exactly all the way, but most of it. The movement made him wince, but not as much as Kitai would have thought.

“You got it,” Cypher breathed, sweat streaking down the side of his face in rivulets. “You got it.” He swallowed and looked around. “We need to get me into the cockpit.” He frowned, no doubt trying to figure out how that could be done. Then a solution seemed to come to him. “There’s a cargo loader at the rear.”

Kitai nodded, but he was too wrung out to absorb what Cypher had said. It took him a moment to lock in on the words. Cockpit. Cargo loader .

Got to move…

And he did. He half walked, half crawled in the direction of the loader, glad that he had eased his father’s pain—and even gladder that he wouldn’t have to pull on Cypher’s arm a third time.

Cypher watched his son move down the length of the ship toward what was left of its aft quarters. He wished he had time to reflect on how hard it had been for the boy to do what he had done and how proud he was of Kitai for doing it.

But he didn’t, because it was only the beginning of what was in store for both of them. Pain, hardship, sacrifice… when it came to such things, they hadn’t even scratched the surface.

Clenching his jaw, Cypher propped himself up on his good elbow and assessed the damage to the ship. The hull was twisted like a double helix, completely useless for the purpose of transportation.

All things considered, it was a one-in-a-million shot that either he or Kitai would have survived the crash. A statistical aberration of the highest order but one he was surely grateful for.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t just the ship that had been twisted, maybe beyond any hope of repair. It was also Cypher himself.

He looked down at his left leg and saw what he had kept Kitai too busy to notice: Blood had soaked through his pants, leaving a crimson stain that was spreading with each passing minute. And it wasn’t just his left leg that had been damaged, because he couldn’t turn his right ankle without a bolt of fire shooting up his leg.

I’ve done it now , he thought. I have most assuredly done it now .

Kitai lowered the flatbed of the cargo loader—a hydraulic machine on a set of four tough wheels—next to his father. Cypher looked impatient as he watched the thing descend beside him. But then, he always looked a little impatient, as if he had something more important to do somewhere else.

It was dark outside. Night . The ship’s observation ports had frozen over with ice.

Must be cold out there , Kitai thought. Much colder than anyplace he had ever visited on Nova Prime. Fortunately, it wasn’t cold inside the cabin. There was at least that to be thankful for.

Kitai extended a small ramp from the end of the loader to the ground. Then he hit a button, and the ramp started to move like a conveyor belt. He looked at his father, who was bracing his arms at his sides. He didn’t look happy about being so helpless.

The first step was for Kitai to lift Cypher’s leg and place it on the ramp. Even the slightest touch made Cypher wince, and so Kitai was as gentle as he could be. As the belt started to drag his father’s leg, Kitai lifted the other leg and put it beside the first one. Then Cypher jockeyed his upper body around until that was on the belt as well.

As Kitai looked on, the belt moved Cypher up until he was on the flatbed at the top of the loader. Mission accomplished .

But it also underlined how badly Cypher had been hurt. There was blood from his legs on the ramp and also on Kitai’s hands, and the effort of sliding himself onto the loader had left Cypher exhausted.