Tobias Buckell - Arctic Rising

The door opened. “Chernov, be quiet,” Vy said. Anika struggled to stand, but Vy pulled a small ottoman over and sat in front of her. “Jesus on a Popsicle stick, you look like shit.”

“I’m sorry,” Anika said.

Vy reached for the handcuffs and held her hands. “Don’t apologize. Chernov, get the damn bolt cutters, what are you waiting for, a formal invitation?”

Chernov shrugged and walked out the door, hulking his way down the corridor.

“Who did this to you?” Vy asked. “I have a few more Chernovs I can round up. We can fuck whoever did this up, they won’t ever want to lay a hand on you again.”

Anika squeezed Vy’s hands. “He won’t be a problem anymore,” she said. “I killed him.”

Chernov coughed from the door. They both looked at him, and he held up the bolt cutters.

Vy looked back at Anika. “Chernov’ll keep his mouth shut.”

Chernov grinned as he got the bolt cutters’ bottom blade in between Anika’s wrist and the first cuff. “It’s wax in my ears. Violet always yelling at me, yes? Do this. Do that. Don’t you hear what I am telling you, big stupid man.”

The cuff cracked apart, and Chernov grunted in satisfaction. He turned his attention to the other hand.

Vy kept holding Anika’s hands as she looked at the Russian bouncer. “Chernov smuggled himself to Baffin aboard a sealed shipping container with a shitload of scuba tanks to keep him breathing. He was trying to reach Alaska, but he miscalculated; the crew of the ship luckily heard him banging. He jumped overboard a few days later in some survival gear he found and floated to Baffin, where some friends of mine fished him out of the water. He’s been following me around like a puppy ever since.” She ruffled his hair.

“Woof.” Chernov smiled as he freed Anika’s second hand, and held up the mangled pieces of the handcuffs.

“Make those disappear,” Vy ordered, “and come back up with a doctor who’ll work for cash and owes us a favor.”

“There’s med student, um…” Chernov frowned. “Edward. He’s home from Montreal. Yes. He will do.”

And then the Russian ambled off to make arrangements.

Vy had some oxycodone and gave two to Anika with a bottle of water. By the time “Edward the med student” showed up, out of breath and blinking, the worst of the pain had receded into the background. Anika was struggling to stay awake.

Edward, still a bit pale and sweaty, no doubt from only having had left The Greenhouse a few hours before, swallowed. “I really shouldn’t be doing this,” he said as he sat on the ottoman Vy had pulled up to the couch.

Vy sat on her desk, feet folded, watching them. “It’ll be cash.”

Edward licked his lips and looked back at Chernov. “I could get in a lot of trouble practicing without a license…”

“You have bigger trouble if you refuse,” Chernov grumbled, folding his arms. “We solved problem for you. Remember that problem? Now you solve problem for us. This is how it works.”

Edward brushed a stray blond hair back behind an ear and leaned forward. Anika looked at his green eyes as they flicked over her, taking in the bruises. He took her hands in his, examining her torn-up knuckles.

Then he was looking at the scrapes on her thighs. Had her breathe in and out while he listened, ear flat against her back, then her chest.

She hissed when he pushed at her ribs, one by one.

He leaned back. “Bike accident, then a fight?”

Anika nodded.

“I’d hate to see the other girl,” he said.

She didn’t bother correcting the automatic assumption in his statement, but she saw Chernov quirk an uncharacteristic smile.

Edward focused on the marks on her neck. “Someone tried to strangle you, too.” He frowned. “This wasn’t a bar fight, was it?”

“No.” Anika rubbed her neck.

Edward’s demeanor shifted. “Listen, if this is domestic abuse, you need to report it.”

“It wasn’t domestic abuse,” Anika said. She swam in a world of near sleep due to the painkillers. She wished Edward would hurry up.

Edward didn’t believe her, but turned his attention back to her ribs. “I don’t think anything’s broken. Bruising, strains, maybe a slightly cracked rib—either way the advice is the same. I’d take it easy. Get to a doctor as soon as you can, get some X-rays. What painkillers do you have, Violet?”

Vy rattled a fluid list of names and finished with, “She’s already had some oxycodone.”

“That’s more than necessary. Make she sure takes something anti-inflammatory as well. Ice the ribs. Rest. Above all, she needs to take it easy. The abrasions aren’t too bad, I can clean them off. Get some antibiotic cream on them. If there’s anything too deep, bandage it. I don’t see anything that needs stitches.”

“So she’s okay?” Vy asked.

“She’s going to hurt tomorrow, but yes, she seems okay. But she really, really needs to visit a real doctor. Understand?”

“We’ll clean her up.” Vy nodded at Chernov, who grabbed Edward’s shoulder.

“Time for us to leave,” Chernov said, and led Edward out.

The door closed, and Anika heard Vy moving about. But the sludge of painkillers and exhaustion spun the room slowly around her. Anika lay back into the folds of the couch, sinking further and further into it.

Vy crouched next to her, whispering into her ear. Light glinted from a pair of scissors. “You know you’re in a safe place, right?”

Anika nodded.

“Good.”

Vy’s hands slid down the sides of Anika’s leathers, and then she started snipping them with the scissors, avoiding the road injuries, carefully pulling strips of cloth away as Anika fought sleep.

In brief snatches of lucidity, she summarized everything that had happened, unsure how much it was making sense. “I have to get to Greenland,” she said. “I have to find Braffit.”

“Okay,” Vy said. “But for now, just rest.”

Anika’s legs and forearms had been cleaned up, slathered in antibiotic cream. She realized, suddenly shocked, that her jeans had been entirely cut away. But even as she realized that, and looked for the energy to object, Vy draped a large, soft blanket on her.

Anika woke up and found Chernov sitting in a chair by the door watching a movie on his phone with earphones turned up loud enough she could hear mosquito-like explosions and screaming.

He saw her moving and turned it off. “ Dobry ’veche ,” he said.

“What?” Anika fumbled around, and Chernov rushed forward, handing her a handful pills and a bottle of water.

“Here is more oxy,” he said, “and for inflammation, take as well.”

Anika downed everything, wrapped the blanket around her, and limped toward a door in the back behind the desk. She needed to pee so badly. “Please, is that a bathroom?”

Chernov nodded.

After washing her hands, Anika filled the sink and plunged her face in. Invigorating. But mostly painful.

She dried herself off with a wad of paper towels, and found that Vy waited for her outside when she opened the door.

“You may not remember, but we had quite a chat last night while I was cleaning you up,” Vy said.

“I told you what happened,” Anika recalled. “I told you what Commander Claude found. I need to get to Greenland, to find Braffit.”

“Yes, and I can help you get to Greenland.…”

Anika, standing by Vy’s desk with the blanket wrapped around her waist and legs, her hair flying every which way, a halo of brown around her face, interrupted. “Why?”

“Why am I helping you?”

“Yes.” Anika stared at her.

“Jesus. You have to ask that?” Vy looked hurt.