Chapter 20
Let Bygones Be Bygones
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The sheet felt cool against Jon's cheek. He lay hunched over the side of Pilot's bed, his hand gently covering hers. Even in the fog of a restless nap, he was aware of the rhythmic sounds of the respirator that was helping her to recover.
The chaos of the triage area was bad enough, but when Jon found Jennifer in much the same condition as before, it was almost too much. After Holcomb had finished working on the casualties, he met briefly with Jon to explain that all the previous measures were put back into place to give her body the time it needed to heal. She had been taken off the support systems far too soon to accomplish the mission, and it had nearly been a fatal decision.
Holcomb had assured him that she would be all right. He offered only that small explanation before shuffling off to get some much-needed sleep.
The medical ward was full. Lyle was in worse shape than it first appeared, but he would recover in time. He was out of pain and resting comfortably, sleeping the sleep of the dead.
Scout had awakened but was still ordered to bed for observation. He was sore from his ordeal but had not suffered nearly as much as if he had not had on a suit. He requested to be moved into Kasich's room, which was granted. Power would have demanded it had the medical staff not been so obliging.
Kasich, by far, had taken the worst of the hits. Holcomb had worked for hours to save her life, without the assistance of Helene Tobias to employ the tricks of the medical trade and modified Dread gadgets. They nearly lost Kasich twice, but Holcomb's diligence won out, sparing her life and putting her on track to recovery. It would be a long road, one shared by Jennifer Chase, Lyle, and for a short time, Scout.
A hand on his shoulder made him jump. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and found Hawk standing there.
"Don't you ever sleep?" he asked the major quietly, still foggy.
"It's okay," Hawk replied in a near-whisper, "I slept last year."
Jon smiled, welcoming the ironic humor. "What's up?"
"You wanted to know when we were ready to move the jumpship."
"Dread patrols out of the area?"
"No sign of them. I'm guessing they're regrouping at Volcania trying to figure out who the new leader is."
"Seems like we have the same problem ourselves."
Hawk shook his head in disagreement. "Hey, buddy – we know who our leader is. It's the folks around here that don't know what's going on."
Jon was afraid that Hawk still did not get it. "They had a leader, Matt, and a damned good one. You may have had a bad history with her, but she died saving us. She died taking out Dread."
Hawk looked away and clenched his jaw. When the muscle eased again, he said, "It's hard to forget the past, Jon. All I can do is promise you that I'll try to keep my mouth shut around her people, but there's a big part of me that isn't the least bit sorry she's gone."
Jon could not argue a man's feelings. Hawk had every right to the opinion that Tobias had been a killer, since Tobias had admitted it outright to Jon on the roof.
"That's fair," Jon said. "Let's just try to make this work until we can get our bearings, okay? We're strung out and hurting. We need to make sure we can fight, and that's going to take teamwork with everyone here."
Hawk nodded reluctantly. "I'll let you know when the ship has been moved."
Jon said nothing in return. Hawk turned on his heel and walked slowly out of the room, the stoop of his back belaying his exhaustion.
Jon turned to Jennifer. Holcomb had assured him she would recover, but it was still difficult to see her in such a state. Machines that were keeping her alive did not seem so vulgar now. She should have been dead. Technology created by the enemy he despised had saved the lives of good people who were willing to die for a cause – the cause of freedom.
He did not know what would happen to the team, and he really had no energy to give the question. His bones ached with exhaustion and soreness. Jon realized belatedly that he, too, had taken his share of shots from mech weapons. They all had. Burgess seemed to be the only one to escape unscathed. It had been a blessing, too. They never could have made it out with the entire team intact had he been taken out of commission.
There was a pall over the entire facility. Tobias' death had hit many of Sanctuary's people hard. There would be others in the future who would never benefit from her expertise and willingness to help the less fortunate among the surviving human race. That much was certain, and Jon found it the most tragic result of all.
What was not certain was Dread's fate. There was no way to know for sure at that point if he had been put down for good. Blastarr and Soaron were still in the equation, as well as a maniacal corps of Dread Youth and the overunits in position to carry on Dread's commands from the grave. Once they could regroup and determine new leadership, assuming Dread was was truly dead, they would be back and in full force with all the resources of Volcania at their disposal. The charges had been set in the computer core, but there was always the chance that they had been discovered and would not be in place to do the job should a new detonator become available.
Jennifer moved slightly in her induced sleep. Jon pushed away the questions buzzing in his mind and picked up her hand in his, putting a gentle kiss on it. He watched her for a while, studying every feature, wanting to memorize each facet in case the chance never came again. There would be time to fight the war later, but this moment he had in his possession was fleeting. He felt he must make the best of the opportunity while it was still there. He had nearly lost her. In his heart, he knew he could again, or she him. It was a fact of being at war where so many had already died.
Tomorrow, he would have a plan. Tomorrow, he would assume some sort of leadership role to make sure that what Tobias started did not end. But for the moment, he was content to sit and watch Jennifer Chase sleep, alive and warm to the touch and finally out of the reach of death's long grasp.