John Ringo - Against the Tide

“There are several…” She paused and then gestured at the door to the ward. “We need to discuss this outside.”

She led him to the deserted nurse’s station and shook her head. “Most of them can be moved if you’ve got carts. But some of them, and Kalil is one, are probably going to be killed by severe movement.”

“I’m surprised he’s alive at all,” Bue admitted. “I saw the accident; I thought he was a goner for sure. You’re definitely your mother’s daughter.”

“The point is,” she said, ignoring the praise, “that he’s being held together by spit and glue. I had to remove part of his skull and replace it with a plate. If he’s on a bumpy cart down to the camp, and then exposed to all the infections that are standard in camp conditions, he’s never going to make it.”

“He’s not going to make it here, either,” Pedersen pointed out. “New Destiny doesn’t bother with niceties like keeping wounded prisoners alive. If they’re not fit enough for Change they go in a common grave. You hope they slit your throat before they toss you in. And it’s pretty reliably rumored that all of them don’t get graves; the Changed will eat anything. There’s a local power network from the solar nannites; can’t you summon some healing and fix him at least to the point he can be moved?”

“Drained,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “This time of year it doesn’t pick up much power and I’ve drained what little there is. Including for the repair on your soldier’s skull.” She didn’t add that if she hadn’t drained it when the bleeding got really bad he would definitely have died. Without the long-lost dissolving sutures she’d had to drain the field to repair the cranial vascular system.

“We’ll have to take the chance,” Bue said. “They’re not going to survive here.”

“How long until the New Destiny forces get here?” she asked, rubbing her face in weariness.

“No more than two days. We think they’re going to land on the south end of the peninsula and invest the fort. But they’ll send out columns around it. One of those is bound to come here. And by then you won’t be able to get in the fort. You’ll have to retreat inland. I don’t know what’s up there to go to; there’s another legion on the way but they’re not expected for two weeks. Tarson and Harzburg are the closest towns and they’re pretty wild if you know what I mean. We’re still not sure which way Harzburg is going to jump.”

“They’re part of the Union,” Rachel protested.

“Nominally,” Bue said. “But the mayor of Harzburg has declared that he’ll make Harzburg an open city if they get that far. That’s not what I call a ringing endorsement.”

“They’re insane, New Destiny won’t care a flip if it’s an ‘open city.’ They’ll still sack it.”

“No shit,” Pedersen said then grimaced. “Sorry.”

“I’ve heard it before,” Rachel grinned. “Look, after you evacuate those that I think can be moved, leave me two carts. If it comes to it we’ll load the rest on those and head for Tarson.”

“Why Tarson?” the lieutenant asked. “They already went to New Destiny once.”

“From what Herzer said I’ll take my chances with them over Harzburg,” Rachel replied. “And with a couple more days Kalil, at least, will be closer to the point that he might survive the journey.”

“Okay, Doctor,” Pedersen said, uncomfortably. “But watch your ass.”

“I will,” Rachel said. “And I’ll watch your people as well.” She paused and shook her head. “I hope you don’t mind if I say that I wish Herzer was here?”

“Nope,” Bue said, shrugging. “So do I.”

Herzer found Megan in the bow of the ship, looking out over the ocean, Baradur, a bandage around his head, crouched by the butt of the bowsprit.

The Hazhir had finally caught a breeze and was scudding along over light seas, headed southwest with every sail set that the ship could handle.

“I thought you didn’t like open spaces,” Herzer said, walking up quietly.

“Oh, my God,” Megan said, grabbing at her chest as she spun around. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“In that case, you need to keep better situational awareness,” Herzer said, smiling faintly.

“You sound exactly like my father,” Megan said, sourly, then grinned. “But I’m glad you sound like my father.” She turned back and looked out over the waves again, shivering faintly in the cold wind. “I don’t. But I have to get used to it. Again. Being cooped up in the harem… all I wanted was to see the outside world again. Even that moldy old castle McClure was better. I didn’t even mind the ride through the moors. But… this…” She shuddered and turned away from the view.

“Being at sea isn’t for everyone,” Herzer said, shrugging. “It’s another reason that some wyvern riders can’t handle sea duty. If you think it’s immense from down here, you ought to try up there.” He looked at her for a moment, then shrugged out of his cloak, and started to wrap it around her.

“I don’t need coddling, Herzer,” she said, tartly, waving it away.

“You’re cold,” Herzer replied. “And you don’t have my body mass. Hell, what I’m wearing is three times as warm as what you’re wearing and I’m used to being cold. Take it.”

“Yes, sir,” Megan said, smiling faintly as he tossed it on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and shivered again at the brush of his hand and arm. “We have to talk,” she added, quietly.

“That we do,” Herzer admitted.

“I’m… strongly attracted to you, Herzer Herrick,” Megan said, turning back to look out over the waves. She wasn’t really seeing them and at the moment it was a better place to look than into his face. “But… I was attracted to Paul. I don’t trust myself when it comes to being attracted to men. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” Herzer said, stepping forward to stand beside her. He kept a respectable distance between them, however.

“I was… with Paul for a long time,” Megan continued, carefully. “Many times. I did not like it. At first. Later… I came to enjoy his company. I fell in love with him, Herzer, and I had to kill him. That was hard. Very hard. And knowing… feeling how wrong it was to fall in love with…” She stopped and shook her head.

“Your rapist,” Herzer said, clearly.

“Thank you for pointing that out,” she replied, angrily.

“It’s called psychological trauma,” Herzer said. “There are those that think that you don’t have to talk about it. Strong people will just ‘get over it.’ ‘Talking about it just makes it worse.’ Bullshit. Everyone who lives through psychological trauma, who really lives through it, finds a way to talk about it. Hell, that’s half the purpose for debriefings. It’s the reason for ‘trooper blasts.’ That’s why when the fleet got its ass handed to it the first time, the duke made sure there was one hell of a party when they came in. People get hammered and they talk . You get some of it out of your soul by sharing the pain with others, even if they’re people who have had the same pain. There are dark things that happen in people’s heads. Everyone who has been in a traumatic situation has them. One of the main reasons to talk about it, especially with people who know what you have been through, have been in the same situation or have studied the reactions, is to learn that others have the same dark things.” He sighed and shrugged.

“I’m gonna tell you a little parable,” he said, glancing at her.

“Am I going to like the story?” Megan said, smiling faintly.