"Hoshi," Archer said, his voice almost supernaturally calm. "Get down behind the driver's seat, put your head down, and assume the crash position. This won't be a soft landing."
"Yes, sir." She did what she was told, and folded herself in half, hands covering her head.
Archer grimly checked his altitude and attitude out the side windows. He guessed his airspeed to be at least a hundred miles an hour still. He had to slow the craft down. The brake pedal, mercifully, was located on the floor, just in reach of his right toe. He hyper-extended his leg, trying to keep the sedan straight at least, and applied a little pressure. He felt the speed drop off slightly. He could see, about two miles away, an area of smaller bushes surrounded by thick-trunked trees. If he was lucky – very, very lucky – the bushes might provide enough of a drag to stop the sedan before it hit the trees. The landing gear, even if he could find it and engage it in time, would be unnecessary. He concentrated on decreasing his airspeed while keeping the altitude steady.
The engine stalled. "This is not good," Archer muttered to himself. "Come on, baby, come on," he coaxed through gritted teeth. But whatever pilot luck he had tapped into had run out. They were still coming in too fast, and now they were falling out of the sky.
"Hang on," Archer shouted, just before touchdown. The measure of his skill was proved in his ability to keep the nose of the craft slightly elevated as they slid into the surface, saving them from drilling into the ground like a hammered nail. The bushes scraped the underside of the sedan with a sickening crunch, and friction did its job as the branches hugged the aircraft and stole its speed. The sedan hit a tangle of limbs that sent it spinning ass over teakettle toward the now very close line of trees.
With no steering wheel to hold onto, Archer became airborne inside the vehicle. The sedan smashed into a large tree, which became the immovable object to the vehicle's irresistible force. Archer, unrestrained, slammed into the windshield almost horizontally, head and right shoulder first, then flopped back to tangle with Dlvec's lifeless and also unanchored body.
After the scream of engines and the deafening crash of trees being ripped from the ground, the silence was eerie. Hoshi took a quick inventory of her injuries; she could tell they were minor – no broken bones, and she was fully conscious, at least. With difficulty, she pushed open her door and crawled outside. There was no movement anywhere. Unsteadily, she reached for the driver's side door and wrenched it open, afraid of what she would see.
It was worse than she had imagined even in those few seconds. Archer lay crumpled, covered in bright red blood, half on and half off of the seat. Dlvec was sprawled on top of him with a gaping burn hole in his chest. The entire front of the vehicle was crushed inward; the craft had hit a giant tree head-on. The windshield was spider webbed and splintered.
Only semi-conscious, Archer instinctively began to crawl out of the vehicle. She could not see his face under all the blood gushing from his head wound and a myriad of facial lacerations. He reached a hand out toward the ground, but, pinned, could not move his body.
Already sore, Hoshi grabbed Archer underneath his arms and tugged. It took a few minutes just to extricate him from the wreck, which was now beginning to smoke. Her movements became more urgent as she pictured the sedan catching fire and blowing up. "Focus, Hoshi," she commanded herself, trying to fight down her spiraling panic. One last tug, and Archer tumbled from the sedan, sprawling on the thickly leafed ground. She dragged him a few feet away from the vehicle. His breathing was shallow and labored, but there. She sprinted back to the sedan.
Dlvec showed no signs of life, so she grabbed the phase pistols, and then, on impulse, opened a glove-box-like compartment underneath the accordioned dashboard. There was a device she assumed and hoped was a transmitter, so she took that, too. She stuffed everything into the case that had held the phase pistols and slung it over her shoulder.
Retracing her steps, she found Archer trying to raise himself on one arm. "Captain," she said, "let me see how badly you're hurt." He got one leg bent underneath himself, and tried to push himself up with his left hand. It was then she saw his right arm dangling uselessly by his side. "Captain," she said again, "let me help you. Your shoulder's dislocated. Don't lean on it." Looking around at the devastation, she knew their position would not be difficult to see from the air. "Captain," she tugged urgently at his now bloody formal jacket, "we have to move."
He lifted his face to her, but did not otherwise respond. Concussion, she thought, relieved that the scanner she had been using at the banquet was still attached to the belt of her trousers, under her robe. She tugged again. Archer was barely conscious now.
"Come on," she pleaded, trying to pull him to his feet. He swayed on his knees. Desperate, she placed her mouth directly next to his ear and screamed, "ON YOUR FEET, SOLDIER! MOVE IT, MOVE IT!"
Archer drew a deep, deep breath in through his nose, and heaved himself to his feet with one push. Leaning heavily on her, he blindly placed one foot in front of the other as she pushed, pulled, and cajoled him deeper into the forest. The sun was setting, and in the growing darkness, knots of plant roots seemed to reach out and grab his feet. He stumbled often, moving on sheer willpower, trying to orient himself through the haze of pain and blood. All he knew was the solid warmth of Hoshi's shoulder, her sharp insistent teacher's voice prodding him onward, and the piercing agony of each breath he drew.
Hoshi kept walking until she found exactly what she was looking for: a small clearing under a canopy of branches and leaves, invisible from the air. A tiny spring gurgled nearby, and a few fallen trees formed a nook in which they could hide. She urged her exhausted captain to sit, but he resisted.
"We've got to keep going," he said, even though it was obvious that his strength was gone. It was ridiculously easy to push him down to his knees.
Hoshi dropped to the ground beside him. "We're hidden here, sir, and it's too dark to go any farther. Besides, I have to reduce your shoulder before it swells any more. Stay here." She rose and headed over to the water source, taking out her scanner. To her relief, she found that the water was within drinkable limits for humans. Cupping her hands, she found that it was cold and sweet.
Next, she stripped off the heavy robe and, with some effort, tore the lining into long strips, plunging some into the cold water. These she took back to the captain's side. "Sir, let me take a look," she said quietly, gently opening the formal jacket and sliding it off his shoulders. Like her, he was wearing a black t-shirt and trousers under the formal gear. Raising the t-shirt, she saw the livid bruise and swelling that indicated at least one broken rib. She freed his left arm first, then stretched the shirt opening over his head and down his useless right arm. His face tightened with pain, but he said nothing.
She sighed. "I have to pop the shoulder back in, sir. It'll hurt really bad for a minute." He lay on his back and turned his face away from her. From her basic first aid course, she knew what had to be done. Bracing herself, she took hold of the straightened arm, and with one mighty motion, lifted, pulled and shifted the joint back toward the center of the body.
She didn't use enough force, and Archer's strangled cry almost made her lose her grip. "Sorrysorrysorry," she bawled, and tried again, before she lost her nerve. This time, the shoulder snapped back into the socket, leaving Archer gasping and shaking on the ground, swearing quietly in every language he could think of.
After a few minutes, she coaxed him to a sitting position and wrapped his ribs with the strips of her robe. She laid his injured arm against his chest, bent at the elbow, and secured it tightly with more make-shift bandages. As she helped him back into his t-shirt, and wiped the blood from his forehead with a wet cloth, she noticed how pale and clammy his skin was. Beads of perspiration ran down his cold face. Shock was setting in.
Archer's voice was strained. "Are you hurt, Hoshi?"
"No, sir, I'm not. That was some landing, though."
"Dlvec's dead?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
He closed his eyes as she probed the matted hair covering the deep gash on his head. "There's no way of knowing where we ended up."
"I found an emergency transmitter in the car, I think. Maybe it has a GPS in it."
Archer opened one glassy eye and peered up at Hoshi. "Good job. We just need to find a high point for you to try to pick up a signal."
She stared at him. "I can't leave you, sir."
"You need to. You'll move much faster without me. Most likely, the insurgents are closer than the authorities are, and the longer we stay out here, the worse our chances get. The government forces probably think we are still in the Parliament building somewhere." He didn't relish the idea of being left alone, but there was no other alternative. He took as deep a breath as he dared, continuing in a thready voice. "Find a high point, set the beacon, and see if you can pick up a signal. Maintain radio silence. Don't broadcast anything but the beacon, in case it's intercepted. Even if the rebels hear it, they may think it's an automated distress call."
"But what if they find you while I'm gone?" Fear and fatigue gave Hoshi's voice a plaintive edge.
Then I'm a dead man, Archer thought, but he answered aloud, obliquely, "It's a big rainforest. I'll be very careful. You'll have to leave at first light. Try to get a little sleep."
"I have to keep you awake, sir. You have a head injury."
He glared at her. "You're not going to be of any use if you can't walk any distance. I'll be fine. Go to sleep. That's an order, Ensign," he added, noting the mutinous line of her mouth.
In the end, she settled behind him, with her back against the fallen log and her arms lightly around his torso, him leaning on her chest, both covered by her robe. The warm, silent night settled around them as they each tried to outlast the other. Less than an hour later, they were both asleep.