Tension and release

The narm growled, low and feral. Ben saw three more creatures stalking up on his left, and another moved just outside his eye line to the right. They were closing in.

Ben tightened the grip of his shaking fingers on the 'saber hilt, and stared back, bold and unbroken.

"Come on, then," he hissed, spitting blood. "I don't have all night."

The narm crouched, muscles bunching beneath its spiny hide. Ben tensed, ready for jaws to come flying at his throat.

There was a commotion at the back of the pack, outside the circle of 'saber light. Ben heard barks and snapping, and saw shapes moving in the dark. The creatures near him turned their heads. A narm had appeared from the darkness at the edge of the road and seemed to be barking at the others. The newcomer had a 'saber scar down its muzzle.

Something was going on. Ben tried to keep track of what was happening, but he accidently drew in too deep a breath and the world swam. Little daggers of agony speared into his lung. He closed his eyes, gasping, trying to concentrate on not dying. Around him, the barks and howls echoed strangely across the empty street. Through his racing, thready pulse and oxygen-deprived brain, it was as if in those howls he could hear the word gone over and over again.

Ben dragged his eyes open. The scarred creature was facing off against a large green narm with a dark stripe down its spine. They were circling him on the edge of the ring of 'saber light, though their yellow eyes were fixed on each other. Scarface barked, and the large narm answered with a howl of gone!

"Yes, they've gone," Ben said. "The Kheelians have gone – they won't be coming back."

The pack turned their eyes on him. Scarface snarled, low. It sounded like the word stole. Soon the sound was taken up by the rest of the pack. Stole! Ben heard on all sides. Stole! and Taken!

"What was taken?" he mumbled as his vision swam. There was a rushing sound in his ears.

Taken! Stole! Gone! came the barks on all sides, and then from somewhere he heard the word kill.

The green narm, the leader perhaps, set up a great howling, and one by one, the rest of the pack added their voices. Ben shivered. The sound chilled him to the bone, but not with fear. With sadness. At last the melancholy noise fell quiet, and Scarface looked at Ben with its yellow eyes. It yipped out a short phrase, and Ben heard;

We die.

The rushing in Ben's ears turned into a roar. His abused lung failed to take in one breath, and then another. It felt like the end.

The roaring got closer, and he realised it wasn't his own struggling heartbeat, but the sound of an engine. The narms realised at about the same moment, and ran forward, howling. Lights flickered in the distance, bouncing strangely off the empty houses and the narm's hides, and then blindingly bright headlights seared down the road. Even as Ben threw up his arm to cover his eyes, he saw a landspeeder racing up the street from the direction of the distant fields. The narms barked and howled, and he heard shouting, far off. Narms fled past him into the dark, and Ben gave one last push, and dragged himself up to one knee. Two narms were bowled aside by the speeder, and it screeched to a halt at Ben's side. A voice that seemed familiar yelled his name, but he could see nothing against the streaming lights.

"Ben, Come on!" The voice cried again, and large hands seized him and hauled him over, and up, and the ground fell away. There was a confusing rush of sound and light and pain, and then voice shouted "Go! Go! For stars' sake…." and there was a thrum of engines and they were moving.

"Pakat?" He mumbled.

"Ben! What happened? Where is Chana? We've been searching for you and..."

Ben groaned, and pushed his arm out blindly. "Can't breathe," he managed to say. "...Up..."

Pakat grabbed his arm and pulled him up into a sitting position on the floor of the landspeeder. Ben leaned forward, curling up around the pain, tucked against the edge of the vehicle. He was panting, gasping, anything to try and pull in air. It was a crowded; there were several other Kheelians crammed into the small craft. Pakat was crouched at his side, lit weirdly in the swaying lanterns.

"What happened? Where are you hurt? The children..."

Ben gripped Pakat's wrist, tightly. "They're safe," he gasped. "Chana took them ahead...Thet..."

"Oh, I give thanks!" Pakat was trying to move around in the small craft, while it jolted and shook.

"Nenka, pass me the lantern...Oh trzk, Ben!"

Ben's eyes drifted shut against the flickering light. He could hear the horror in Pakat's voice; he didn't need to see it on his face as well.

"Is that a Pechnar?" said a Kheelian voice he didn't recognise. "It does not look very well..."

"He's hurt," said Nenka, on the other side of the craft.

Pakat seemed to ignore the other voices. "Ben, do not worry. You are going to be fine." And then, in a quieter voice to the driver, he said; "Better step on it, Porra."

"Where's Shaarm?" Ben whispered, realising the family was not yet all accounted for.

"She is fine," Pakat reassured him, in low, calm voice, as he checked over Ben's chest and head with a feather-light touch. Ben was reminded of the night Pakat had calmed him after that first nightmare.

"She is at the village, treating the injured. When we realised neither you nor Chana had made it, I...Anyway, it looks like we found you just in time."

"Pakat, listen to me...the narms..." Ben had to tell Pakat what he had just learned. It was dreadfully important. He opened his eyes, reaching for the Kheelian, but just then there was a light ahread. He saw dull metal gleaming in the dark and realised that they had finally reached the Fence. Porra gave a shout, which was echoed somewhere ahead. Hinges creaked, and the speeder passed through. There was a 'clunk' as the gate shut behind. They were safe.

There were Kheelians everywhere. Ben saw them on all sides as they sped down Thet's main street – crammed into the doorways of houses, or peering shell-shocked into the night. Some were crying. Porra drove them up to a large building that Ben vaguely recognised, before Nenka was carefully lifting him. Moving hurt even more this time, probably due to the loss of the adrenaline which had keep him going for the last who-knew-how-many turns. He didn't fight it when the world went cloudy and indistinct; in fact, it was rather pleasant not to hurt for a few moments. He was jolted back into awareness as Pakat eased him down onto a floor, propping his back against a wall. Something was wrapped tightly around his leg. Ben coughed weakly a few times, but he could feel his strength deserting him by leaps and bounds. Pakat frowned and wiped what must have been blood off Ben's chin.

"Stay with him," Pakat instructed his nephew. "Let me know the moment he gets any worse. I have got to find Shaarm and see if Chana made it."

Pakat disappeared. Someone who must have been Nenka wrapped a blanket around Ben and tucked something soft between his head and the wall.

"Do not worry, I will be right back," Nenka said, and he too disappeared.

Ben opened his eyes and took in his surroundings for the first time. He had been brought indoors, inside the building which had previously housed the village shop where Nenka worked. Shelves and tables had been shoved to the walls and the large space had become an impromptu refugee camp. The room was filled with Kheelians who had fled from their homes in the valley. He could see a few clusters of family groups, and a number of elderly. Some were clearly injured, clutching bandaged limbs or huddled over the forms of loved ones. Children darted here and there. A few Kheelians were eating. No-one was sleeping. In the distance he thought he could see Grandmother moving around, checking off names against a list. Making sure everyone was accounted for, perhaps. He couldn't see any other members of his family.

Nenka reappeared at his side with a bottle of water. He held it up to Ben's mouth. The man managed a few sips.

"Shaarm is out by the gates," the teenager said, in an apologetic tone. "I know she'll be here as soon as she can."

Ben nodded, and managed to ask; "Chana? The girls?"

"They are around here somewhere," Nenka evaded. "I'm sure they are fine."

"The narms...are they in the village?"

"Oh, no," Nenka reassured him. "They can't get past the Fence. There are still some loitering outside the gates, but they won't get in. They will have gone by sunrise."

"Tell me...what happened."

The teenager launched into a full narrative of the night's events, clearly glad for an instruction he could easily follow. "Well, Choha was up in the Broadfield with a sick caprius, and he saw the first flare go up. By the time he got back here, a second flare had been lit on the other side of the valley and he decided it was serious. He sounded the alarm and got everyone up out of their beds in the village. Everyone thought he was imaging things, of course...it is well known he likes a few cups of vok before a cold night in the hills. But then Taknat got a call on the wire from Niko to say they were being attacked, and then the line went dead; we think the narms tore up the cables -"

Nenka stopped suddenly, mid-sentence. He peered at the man's face, frowning with concern.

"You've gone a very strange colour," he said, sounding worried. "Is that meant to happen?"

"Oh," Ben gasped, not really paying attention. "I have?"

"Your skin is sort of white and cold. Your mouth had gone blue."

"I think, perhaps," Ben whispered, "I might need you to get Shaarm now..."

He was still conscious when Shaarm arrived, but not very. He heard her call his name across the room, and rolled his head towards the sound. Nenka leapt up on his back legs beside him, waving.

"Here! He is here, Shaarm."

She crossed them room with the apparently unhurried pace of medics everywhere, and crouched down at his side. He was unbelievably glad to see her.

"Ben? Can you tell me what happened? Ooouli said that you fell."

He opened his eyes at the name. "You've seen Ooouli? Tiki?"

Shaarm smiled a little. "They are fine, Ben. Chana too. I was just with them."

Ben let out a sigh of pure relief. Pakat and Nenka had been so vague he was starting to worry that the trio had never made it.

Shaarm, in the meantime, had not been idle in the moments since her arrival, spreading open her medical bag and laying out various items.

"You were telling me about the fall," she prompted, sliding his left arm with meticulous care from where it was wrapped across his ribs, and laying it gently in his lap.

"From a roof," Ben said, trying to conserve his breath. "Kadat's house. Broke some ribs, lung…"

She pushed the ragged remains of his coat and tunic aside and inspected his chest, palpating across the delicate ribcage gently with her large hands.

"Kadat's house? How long ago did this happen?"

Ben considered. He didn't really know. It felt like a lifetime.

"A turn?" he guessed. Shaarm's mouth tightened. She grabbed a stethoscope and listened to both sides of his chest and his back. Then she took his pulse and temperature using the zol device, stood up, and dragged Nenka aside where he had been hovering anxiously.

"Find that drunkard Choha," she snapped at him. "Get him here right now, and tell him to bring whatever oxygen and analgesics he has. Go!"

The teen sprinted off, and Shaarm dropped back down at Ben's side. Despite everything, he was trying not to grin. Shaarm was a wonderfully gifted and caring surgeon, but she was clearly used to her patients being asleep when she was working, not listening to every word.

"Ben," she said, sounding a little stern. "This is quite serious. I believe that you have re-broken your ribs. One has punctured your right lung, leading to a pneumothorax. I need to make a small incision in your chest to release the pressure of air filling the pleural cavity."

Ben nodded. He had been correct in his self-diagnosis then. "All right," he said, surprised she hadn't gotten on with it already.

She shook her head, a little impatiently. "I know where to make the incision on a Kheelian. However, your physiology...It is just too different. I could guess, but I could make things worse. I need a second opinion from the veterinarian. He will hopefully have some pain medication we can try. I am concerned about your blood pressure and oxygen saturation, but you just need to stay calm and still for a little bit longer."

Ben would have groaned if he had the breath to spare. He had never been one to shy away from a challenge, but his spate of bad luck recently was starting to get ridiculous. Shaarm occupied the time by cleaning and dressing the torn skin of his bitten leg, they layering him in blankets, and finally checking his pulse every few moments. Ben just tried to think of anything but the pain.

Fortunately it was not long before Nenka came bounding back into the hall, dragging behind him a tall but slightly mournful and bedraggled-looking Kheelian, clutching a large bag. This must be Choha, the vet who had treated Ben when he had first limped down off the moor.

"At last," snapped Shaarm. "The oxygen?"

The new Kheelian, Choha, pulled a small canister and rebreather mask out of his bag, handing them over distractedly. He was staring at Ben. "Oh yes, it is definitely the same Pechnar. But I thought he had left the village last week?"

"Does it look like he left the village?" Shaarm retorted, ramming the small canister of compressed gas onto a re-breather mask. "Now either shut up, or help me. Preferably both."

The breathing mask was made for who-knew-what shape of creature. It covered almost Ben's entire face when Shaarm slid the mask on, and didn't seal to his skin, but it worked. Ben took his first oxygen-rich breath; felt the coolness of it pour down his airway and some of the tightness relax.

The two medics fell into a speedy debate mainly comprised of medical jargon and acronyms that Ben was too busy breathing to try and work out. The discussion was focussed on three main issues: the location of the incision, the possible need for a chest drain, and what dosage of the caprius tranquilizer Choha had brought it would be safe to give Ben as pain relief. At this stage, Ben would happily have taken the lot, consequences be damned. Nenka hovered by Ben's side, holding his hand. Within minutes, the surgeon and the vet seemed to come to an agreement, and Shaarm was laying out a scalpel.

"We need to lay you down, Ben," she said. "Nenka."

Nenka and Choha between them carefully helped him slide down the wall until he was lying flat.

"Ready?" Shaarm said, pulling on a pair of white three-fingered gloves. Choha leaned forward, and suddenly pressed down on Ben's shoulders firmly. Ben actually felt the rough ends of the collar-bone he didn't even know he had broken grate together. If he could have, he would have screamed.

For the third or fourth time in as many turns, his vision faded to an indistinct grey as pain robbed him of his ability to think and to breathe. He could vaguely feel hands on his chest, distant voices, and then a small sharp little pain high in his chest. There was a faint sound like a small pop, a hiss of air, and sudden, incredible relief. The pressure which had been squeezing his lung like a wet rag been to seep away, and one after another, his breaths began to work again. He lay for a long while just revelling in his own breathing, before he noticed a sensation of cooling comfort flowing through his veins, and the pain began to bleed out of him. He felt his over-taxed and exhausted muscles relax for the first time in turns. A slightly too-deep breath caused him to cough, and he went to push the oxygen mask aside.

"I'll get it." That was Nenka, still at his side. The teenager wiped the blood off Ben's mouth and gave him a sip of water before returning the rebreather mask. Ben opened his eyes and took in a small IV pouch now hanging off a nail in the wall, and followed the tube to his arm. Glanced to his other side, he saw Shaarm was crouched with her stethoscope pressed to his side. She had a slight frown. Turning over her shoulder, she called to the distant figure that was Choha.

"Yes, it is working but I think we still are going to need to drain. Get everything prepped." She started rummaging her medical bag, cursing.

"What's wrong?" Nenka asked, above Ben's head.

"He is just too small for our tools and I do not have any paediatric equipment here. The chest incision was larger than I hoped. I need to partially cover it to stop more air getting in...Something plastic, flexible..."

Ben didn't want to attempt to interrupt his breathing by talking, but luckily Shaarm noticed him fumbling at his right-hand coat pocket. She reached in, and pulled out a rectangle of laminate flimsiplast the size of Ben's palm. His new MedIdent card that he had put into his pocket only the previous night. She smiled a genuine smile.

"Perfect," she said. The flimsiplast was taped over the incision on three sides, forming a valve to allow air to pass out of his chest. His blankets were returned, and a cooling-patch placed over his broken collarbone. Ben was starting to feel the combined effects of oxygen, pain relief and warmth dragging him into lethargy, when Shaarm gave his wrist a gentle squeeze.

"Look," she said, and pointed to the distant entranceway. Ben rolled his head, and saw Chana standing in the doorway. Tiki was tucked into his right arm, and Ooouli was pressed into his side.

"No, Ooouli," he was saying, quietly, "Ben is resting at the moment, so we should let him be for now. You can come and talk to him in the morning, I expect. You've seen him now, so perhaps you might finally consider going to sleep?"

They were all filthy, caked from shoulder to foot in mud, and they looked exhausted. But they were alive, and really, nothing else mattered. Ooouli saw his open eyes and he saw her wave, shyly. Ben raised his right arm and waved back. Shaarm pushed his wrist down, firmly. "Stop that," she snapped, but he was too busy smiling, loopily. Chana led the girls round the other side of the room and out of Ben's line of sight, presumably to find some space to sleep.

They were safe. Everyone was safe.

Ben let himself sleep too.

TBC next week!