The Used Child, CH 44 (Patreon)

The silence was oppressing.

Alex wanted to say something to break it, but his anger had fueled his courage, and when he’d buried that, he’d lost the other. He focused on his screens, which showed him outside, not that there was anything worth looking at right now. The heat of their reentry was burning off the asteroid’s surface and giving out a sheet of colored gases.

Another screen had information about the outside of the ship—pressure, radiation, pieces of the asteroid they were hiding in breaking off and hitting the hull, and more. Anything needed to inform them of potential trouble to the ship.

One of those readings was the temperature of the hull, but he didn’t look at it. He didn’t need a number to know it was hot; even the inside of the ship was getting uncomfortable. Tristan was still running the ship on minimal power, and the life support needed more to cope with this heat.

One of the screens was the readout from the passive scans. There was nothing on them now—the ionization from the surface of the asteroid insulated them from the outside—but before they entered the atmosphere, there had been a lot of ships scanning their rock.

Tristan had picked it well because with them on minimal power and the asteroid around them, no one came rushing to shoot them down.

When he got a view from the cameras outside the asteroid, Alex appreciated Tristan’s obsession with using only the best, even with cameras. They’d not only survived the heat of reentry, but were now compensating for the gases. That, in conjunction with the programs he’d written—and stolen—to turn the computer in a broadcasting rig let him get a composite view of where they were heading.

It was nowhere near as clear as what Tristan had used to further impress Emil, but he could make out the ocean, as well as the specks in it—islands, Alex realized.

A lot of islands.

He looked at Tristan and he could imagine the grin on his face. This was mission-related, so Tristan wouldn’t mind the interruption.

“Didn’t this landing call for being in water?” He checked and sent the visual to Tristan.

The Samalian muttered something that sounded like a curse. Alex mirrored Tristan’s screen, and text scrolled faster than he could read. Planetary information was the best Alex could make out. A few images of water appeared, stills.

“There aren’t any mentions of islands.” Tristan cursed again. The text was replaced by calculations. More cursing. “Secure the boy, we’re going to hit land.”

As he stood, Alex saw what looked like a trajectory that had them bouncing, or was that breaking apart? He barely heard Tristan muttering.

“You knew I tied my ship in the asteroid, that’s why you put those there, isn’t you?” It continued, but he couldn’t hear from inside Emil’s room.

Emil was seated at the desk, reading his datapad. He’d taken off his jacket, but hadn’t made any other concession to the heat. His shirt was covered in sweat, but he didn’t seem to mind.

He looked at Alex and only then grew concerned. “Is something wrong?”

“We’re heading for a rough landing. I need you on the bed.”

“Am I going under cryo again?” Emil lay on the bed.

Alex checked the controls. Why weren’t there any escape pod functions? Any living quarters should have that. He checked the cryo system. In minimal power mode, there was only enough power in the capacitor to turn it on for a few seconds. Not great, but it did have an emergency activation feature—another reason Alex preferred field systems to any other.

“Only if things turn out worse than they look. I’m just going to strap you in. The cryo is set to turn on by itself if needed, so keep your limbs on the bed, okay?” He pulled the straps out of their compartment at the edge of the bed.

It was a fully mechanical system, which was for the best. If he and Tristan died in the landing, Emil would be able to get himself out of it. Alex did his best not to think about dying, reminding himself that Tristan was a master at surviving death.

He locked the straps in place, and tightened them until Emil was secured to the bed.

“It’s going to be stressful for a while. Do you want me to turn the ceiling in a screen so you can watch a vid?”

“I’m okay,” Emil replied.

Alex studied him and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s going to be fine.”

Emil smiled. “I know. Tristan is going to keep us safe, he promised.”

The faith in the child’s eyes made Alex feel sick.

With another squeeze, he left the room and took his seat. The display now showed him details of the closest island, rocks with a few sickly trees.

“Any chance you can alter the trajectory?”

Tristan didn’t reply.

That said plenty.

Alex wished the Samalian said something, anything, to let him know what was going on. He hated not knowing.

“Lock yourself in,” Tristan said.

Alex looked for a command that would activate the emergency restraints.

“Back of the seat,” Tristan said, pulling his out. “Strap system, same as the boy’s bed.”

Alex felt over his shoulder for the compartment and pulled the straps out, locking them around him and tightening them.

He kept his eyes on the screen showing the approaching island. He couldn’t look away, wondering if this was where he was going to die.

Buried with one of those things, his father said, just what you deserve.

Alex closed his eyes.

* * * * *

It lasted for hours, or maybe only a second. He’d been shaken so hard he didn’t know if every part of him were still attached. Metal had whined, broken—a sound so loud that afterward, he thought he’d gone deaf. Something hit his shoulder, and he realized his eyes were still closed. He opened them in time to see nutrient packs hit the wall.

Then everything was still.

Gravity was at an odd angle and slowly shifting. The only lights were on the control board.

Someone grunted, fell. Alex saw a large form move in the cockpit. Metal whined again, closer, then broke. Lights came back, gravity righted itself.

Things fell to the floor. Alex looked around. One of the cabinets was open, the door hanging by one corner. The relief kept him from breathing. If that had gone flying in the cockpit, someone would have died. Instead, nutrient packs littered the floor.

Had he been in charge of that one? Had he forgotten to lock it? Tristan would kill him if this was his fault.

“Alex!”

He snapped his attention to the Samalian, had to fight to focus on him.

“What’s the status of the hull?”

The hull? Right. He looked at the boards, and for a moment he couldn’t remember what they were, how to use them. Then it came back, and he was entering commands. Information came up.

“There’s a rip in the hull on the…” The term wouldn’t come. He pointed. “That way.” He doubled checked what he was reading. “We’re taking on water?”

Tristan grabbed Alex’s chin and looked him in the eyes. With a curse, he went out of the cockpit and returned with a small pack and dropped it on Alex’s lap.

“Take care of your head.”

His head? Was there something wrong with his head?

He felt around until he winced at a spot, and his fingers came away red. That couldn’t be good.

His hands were moving without having to think. He pulled two pills from the pack and popped them in his mouth, then he was holding the sealant and applying it, probably making a mess of it in his hair.

Years of treating his injuries had ingrained the motions so that he could do this even while concussed.

Which was what he was, he realized.

“How are you feeling?”

“Huh?” How had Tristan gotten wet?

“I’ve sealed the rip, how are you feeling?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He rummaged through the pack and pulled out an injector. He checked it and applied it to Alex’s neck. “The hold’s dry. Go sleep this off.”

“I have a concussion,” Alex said.

Tristan showed him the injector. “You’ll be fine.”

Alex couldn’t focus to make out the symbol on the vial, but Tristan said he’d be fine. He went down, found his bedroll among the scattered crates, lay down on it, and was gone.

* * * * *

He had a headache and was famished. He crushed nutrient bars in pushing himself to a seated position, and didn’t care. He devoured four of them. He found two water bottles with them and drank them.

He remembered being shaken, but the rest was fuzzy.

Checking the chrono didn’t help; the last time he’d looked at it was days ago. He got up, found he was steady on his feet, and went to the cockpit.

Tristan had Emil on his lap and was showing him images on the screen. Alex only made out browns and grays.

“Finally awake, I see.” Tristan’s voice was jovial.

“How long was I out?”

“A day and a half. Don’t you remember me waking you up to take another Heal All? That was your last one, by the way.”

Alex shook his head.

Tristan touched his head and indicated Alex’s. “You’re going to want to take a shower.”

Alex felt his hair, and it was caked together. He had made a mess of applying the sealant.

He checked his injuries in the shower. The cut was sore, but closed. Whatever bruises he’d gained in the crash were gone. Heal Alls did an amazing job.

He sat back at his board, still damp, but feeling better. “Where are we?” He brought up images of outside. Blue-gray skies above, brown and gray rocks around, with maybe a little green in the distance.

“Artus One,” Emil replied.

“I’m looking for a safe place to meet with my buddy’s father.”

“Did any of the ships around the planet detect us?” Alex asked.

“No. I’m keeping the ship close to the ground and moving slowly. The atmosphere is diffusing the energy emissions, and since they don’t know we made planetfall, they’re still looking up, instead of down here.”

“Tristan is smarter than the bad men,” Emil said.

“That I am, Buddy.”

“Wait, the ship is moving? After that crash?”

Tristan smiled and patted his board. “I choose tough ships. It only needed a few repairs to get moving. It’s going to need more before we can hit vacuum, but I expect once this is all over, we’ll have the time.”

Alex nodded. “So the search is visual.” He indicated the screen. “No scans to alert the bad men?”

Tristan brought up texts. “I have a few promising locations based on old surveys. Hopefully they’re more accurate than the ocean survey. One of them should give us a place to hide the ship and a secure place to meet with my buddy’s father. I bet you’re excited.”

Emil nodded. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

‘Meet him’? Alex raised an eyebrow at Tristan. Hadn’t Emil met his own father before? Alex forced a smile. “So what’s the plan once we find the right spot?”

“Set up a security perimeter and wait. I don’t know how long it’ll take him to reach us.”

“Are the bad men going to cause my father trouble?” Emil asked.

Tristan smiled at him. “Don’t worry about that. Your father’s a smart man. He’s going to find a way around them.”

Right, since Masters wasn’t who the mercs were actually after. All he had to do was get here in a banged-up ship and no one would pay him any attention.

* * * * *

It took two days, and four sites, before Tristan was happy with one. The multiple decommissioned buildings that comprised the old mining complex provided ample locations to hide if things went bad, Tristan explain to Emil. And there was a hangar at the edge of the complex where the ship would be secure.

Once landed, Alex did a walkaround of the ship. It was in bad shape. A lot of the outer plating was gone, exposing systems that shouldn’t be exposed.

Tristan wasn’t worried. He pulled Alex away and took him along with Emil around the complex, indicating where the cameras would go to get full coverage so they could tell if any of the bad men tried to sneak in, he told Emil. Alex noted to himself those locations meant they would be almost impossible to see without a serious search.

Emil nodded and smiled. He acted like this was just another adventure, that he couldn’t get hurt, that it was all in good fun. Alex wished he felt that way, but he could see the multitude of ways this could go wrong.

Mercs could find them long before Masters arrived. Masters could decide not to come here in person. The mercs might not believe the broadcast was genuine.

Tristan acted confident that everything would come about as he’d planned, but it had to be an act. He had to see the holes in the plan, same as Alex.

Alex went along with the joviality for Emil’s benefit, all the while trying to come up with ways around the problems, and how he was going to keep Emil safe once this was all over.

* * * * *

It took two weeks for everything to be in place to Tristan’s satisfaction. During the day the three of them worked amongst the buildings, and at night, once Emil was asleep, he and Tristan installed the cameras in the warehouse where the meeting with Masters would take place. And because this was Tristan, he added explosives in strategic places.

With all of it done, all that was left was to wait.

Tristan did repairs on the ship, with Emil’s help. If he didn’t know better, Alex would swear Tristan was enjoying Emil’s company; he was certainly smart and inquisitive, qualities Tristan appreciated. He also worked hard and didn’t give up. And, just like Tristan, he didn’t seem willing to let anyone stop him.

Alex wondered if the Samalian could learn to care for someone so similar to himself. Of course he couldn’t, Alex berated himself. This was all an act. All Tristan cared about was for Emil to get attached to him, not the other way around.

Alex turned the screen off. He couldn’t take watching them any longer. He went down to the hold and practiced his knife-handling, imagining cutting Tristan to pieces as he protected Emil.