Night was cold in Centra.

It was a continental phenomenon--whether in the sands of the Kashkabald Desert or on the coasts of the Cape of Good Hope, the night never failed to be chilly. From being a pleasant cool in the summer to a deathly frost in the winter, the only variation was how low the temperature had a mind to drop.

Taiga shifted slightly, feeling the weather settle into his joints and cybernetic enhancements. Something inside was burning away at his energy, heating up his torso and relying on his heart to spread the warm blood throughout his limbs--it was keeping him in the range of tolerably cool, but that was all that could be said for it.

He groaned, and pushed himself to his knees. Flexing stiff muscles, he rocked back and surveyed the area.

The remnants of the earlier fight were still there--the disturbed dust, the gun, the corpse lying nearby. And--Lu.

Catching his breath, he made his way to her side and gently turned her over onto her back. "Directive," he murmured in the night.

Directive accepted.

"Analyze subject." Don't let her be--

The program kicked in immediately, moving his hands without his own volition. After a moment, the ICI announced its findings.

Hali Lu, FO; 82% probability. Biomechanics, Fifth Level. Respiration 15.4 bpm. Pulse 70.3 ppm. Temperature 34.6 degrees celsius.

Taiga appraised her visually, noting the impressive split lip he had given her. Putting a hand on her side opposite her heart, pressed gingerly. "Directive. Analyze subject region."

Programming clicked in, and his fingers performed an examination he didn't have the skill to do. Three lateral fractures along the ribcage, the ICI informed him. One compound fracture on the second lateral.

"How do I fix this?" he asked her, pensive. "I need to get you to a hospital. But the moment I show my face, it'll be over for me. You're so damn sure of these ethical problems. Why don't you tell me?"

He sat back, thinking. A paramagical dressing might soak through the skin and affect the bone--if he could find the components and mix one up. He could bind it up using the cloth the Patrolman had been wearing--but it was unlikely he would be able to really immobilize it, especially given that he had to keep moving and was unwilling to simply leave Lu behind. By the time he was in a position to get her any sort of care--

He sighed heavily. Soldiers like himself were issued small medical packs and data on how to use them, but he hadn't kept track of his. As far as he knew, it was somewhere in the Kashkabald Desert.

"Well," he said, forcing himself to go through everything logically. "Let's think about this. You got me into this mess, why don't you tell me how to get out? Query."

Query accepted.

"Patient. Rib fractures. Recommended procedure?"

Patient should be brought to nearest medical facility.

"Option unavailable."

Immobilize patient. Use available resources to reduce swelling in region of injury. Bind injury as well as circumstances permit.

"Nothing I didn't already know." He groaned, massaging his forehead. "Directive."

Directive accepted.

"Cross-reference local indigenous fauna with any mention of healing properties, disregarding drawn paramagical spells. Practical application only."

Fastitocalon species. Meat has a healing effect on 23% of tested individuals when ingested. Jelleye. Secretes a clear substance popularly referred to as "healing water" from a gland within the central joint. Acts as a localized anesthetic and metabolic accelerator when applied topically. Acts as an anesthetic and soporific when ingested. Refinement yields--

"That's enough. Thanks. ...cancel directive." Taiga stood, glancing down at Lu. "Don't go anywhere, he admonished wryly. "I have to go find a Jelleye or three."

-

After a nearly fruitless scour of the wasteland, Taiga came back to the battlefield with the oozing central joints of four juvenile Jelleyes held in his hands. They were small--hardly larger than apples--but luck hadn't been on his side in the hunt. It seemed that Jelleyes weren't the most nocturnal of species.

He wasn't exactly sure how to go about doing things, so he shrugged it off and did his best to improvise. And first was the most unpleasant task--taking the patrolman's shirt from him.

Robbing the dead.

If there was one thing he had retained from Basic Training, it was to disregard death. Death was everywhere, in a war. Death was his profession. It didn't matter how many corpses piled up around you--attend to the enemy, attend to the wounded, and if need be leave the fallen where they fell. Speed was the forte of the cyborg corps. Efficiency was their trademark. It was the cyborg battles where everyone was left unburied--the victors simply didn't care enough to take the time.

Still, it had been a long time since the war. And Taiga had never found the comfort in the callousness that some of his compatriots had.

He didn't wince when he took the man's shirt, exposing the fatal wound.

He did wince when he undid Lu's, exposing the similar mark on her side.

He had no idea what to do, aside from "apply the substance topically." He cracked open one of the Jelleye joints, looking distastefully at the mucous substance. Digging his fingers into it, he withdrew what seemed to be a clear, thing membrane.

"The things we do for medicine," he muttered to himself, wrinkling his nose at the sharp astringent smell. "Fungus, leeches, and now this."

Placing the membrane on Lu's side, he spread it carefully over the injured area. He was careful--he didn't have much experience working on non-cybernetic humans, and he had less of an idea than he'd like to of how fragile they were. He didn't want to hurt her more severely while trying to undo the damage he had already done.

The goo was beginning to absorb into her skin, which surprised him somewhat. He continued to apply it, noting with relief that the bruising was beginning to lose its color. It was a subtle change--he might as well have been imagining it--but on this point, at least, he trusted his enhanced mental faculties to recognize what was going on.

He worked methodically, covering the injury and the surrounding skin with the healing water until he couldn't scrape any more from the joint. He discarded the shell, cracking open another one.

"I'll save two," he said to Lu, smiling crookedly. "You can tell me how it tastes next time you need a soporific. And I might have to bind you up again, too."

Lu, not surprisingly, said nothing to the information.

Taiga's smile faded. "ICI," he said. "...directive."

Directive accepted.

"Tell me a story?"

There was a moment's pause. Directive not recognized.

"Access the historical accounts of... something," he said. "The most recent Sorceress War. Recount the news articles from the Esthar Broadcast News Center from its reactivation when the Lunar Base came down."

There was another moment's hesitation. "The Sky Is Falling!" it announced, without any tone. "Kirin Ru, EBNC. Seventeen years of security have come tumbling down today, as Sorceress Adel's tomb came unexpectedly into contact with a Lunar Cry...."

Taiga listened with half an ear to the canned report, finding thin comfort in the words as they were deposited into his brain. His mind was filled with someone else's words and he could feel Lu breathing beneath his fingers--but, even so, the world seemed strangely empty. He felt oddly alone.

He spread the healing water over Lu's side, ripped up the Patrolman's shirt to make wide bandages, and prayed to gods he didn't even believe in that she wouldn't die.