Eternity, Book 1 - "Queen's Gambit"

Chapter 5 Coming in from the cold

Three Unities

Life holds no domestic hope; no creative act.

Jesus, she clipped into berth faster than Hannah. "Not so fast, Lawson, you'll break the damn pad."

"Cool it, it's already broken. We'll have to idle the core. Should support human weight."

"Damn, there's someone there already!"

"I see it, Toombs. Turian, two women, no environment suits. What the hell? She's all over that one–"

"Turian's pulling her off. Other one's laying intravenous–"

"The tracker's peaking right there!"

"Oh, we're not having this. Take over! Ernesto, grab a stretcher, Toombs, with me!"

Miranda stormed out so fast he could hardly follow, but Zabaleta remembered to grab the winch line, too, and trailed after as best he could. Toombs was following behind with a corporal and two troopers, armed to the teeth, a bit of an overreaction to the Turian with the old gun in his view but entirely typical of the man… Wait a minute, he recognized the hysterical bint crying on her knees now, Miranda was pushing her off. The other woman must be a medic, but the crispy looked pretty far gone, was it him, was it even human? Oh. N7 tags. Shit. On the other hand he could tell his Mom he's been found. But Christ, what's left of him? Better off dead.

"Doctor! I want him on the stretcher NOW."

"He's in no fit state–"

"He's dead again if we don't GET MOVING. Toombs, get on the winch! Hover here. Ernesto, fit up the stretch splint, right, good, GO. Mate, if you wave that in my face again you're a dead Turian. Doctor, you good? Others on the winch now! Slower, slower, okay. Doctor, you're up! Keep him alive–"

"It's only postponing the inevitable, he might only have minutes. I can stabilize him a little but it will be a miracle if he makes it…"

"You'd be surprised."

"If you can do one… I could chill him. Medium term, you, the Captain and Hackett then have options, long term – there's nothing left that can fix this."

"This is no time to argue, but don't bet on it. On board, now!"

"I'm coming with him!"

"You? You damned spy, you should be dead."

Never in the rest of his life would Tactus forget that boot smashing into her chest. She went flying. Only the rope stopped another orbital organic satellite. Five seconds' frantic grapple… he heard the hatch close, but couldn't look till he had the girl safe, then eyes watched the shuttle leave the platform until ears reported sobs at his feet.

"Babe." More sobs.

"Hannigan. The codes. What would Anderson have done? Would he have lain there?"

The sobs subsided. "Anderson? No. You're not wrong. The man who lay there would not have lain there. We have a job. Help me."

"Attagirl." It took three minutes to clamber over four metres of jagged quasi-metallic rip-rap. The haptic console chimed to her touch. There wasn't any sound crossing the vacuum to the retention field, but some of the wards moved, a little. More importantly, the thrusters visibly blew off the peculiar ragged blob attached to the spire. Some relative movement was happening here. Would it be enough?

Tactus watched Hannigan sit, pull up her legs, lock her fingers around them and lay her forehead against her knees. Winded–

Quiet sobs.

Some strange human quirky reaction to stress? "Look, I don't understand any of this–"

"Please."

"… alright."

The world turned.

"The platoon will be here soon. We have to get back."

"You go."

"Spirits."

There was a fragment of raised dais. He pulled her to her feet, and almost carried her there, vaguely protesting, sat her down. She lay down, curled up, the same position.

Tactus found a cloth bag full of torn sheet strips. It sort of made a pillow. There was a sedative in Michel's bag. And water. "Babe. Sit up. I know, just for a minute. Take this. Okay. I've got first watch."

It seemed like forever since he last sat down.

Pentimento

Sure is the torture of patient science

"Christ on a crutch, Lawson, what have you done?"
Miranda stared at Zabaleta. "Ernesto – "

"Don't you Ernesto me. I saw who that was."

"Doesn't matter anyway, she's a spy."

"The hell you say. More importantly, the guy she might have spied for is dead."

"She was a civilian seconded for the Illusive Man's purposes. Generally I shoot spies. At least I let her live."

"That wasn't her only job on the crew. She didn't know better anyway. But even that's not the point. Shepard was working for him when she knew them both. And you were reporting to the same guy!"

"Not those details."

"Just how could you possibly know that? The commander thought there were too many electronic bugs, remember. Mordin and the AI dug them out."

"Yeah. After the collector mission I told them where to look."

"But did you really think your boss told you about all of them? Remember the Cronos station video? "We need Shepard invested." I'll bet you're annoyed because she was a live bug not under your control. You must have been real happy she never came back."

"Only because she was the world's worst soldier."

"She didn't have practice. Anyway she had other talents. Shepard didn't want her as a soldier."

"And how could you possibly know any of that?"

"His mother, how else! Your client!"

"Hackett's my client, or at least he pays the bills."

"Tell that to Hannah next time you see her."

Another beat. "I'd have found him for my own reasons anyway. Shepard would have let Wilson live, but dead spies are good for him. Look, I'm not going back–"

"Oh yes you are."

"Doctor, this isn't your business."

"My patient, my business."

"I fail to see how–"

"Ms. Lawson, stop. I have heard of you. Have you heard of me?"

Miranda looked fiercely at Dr Michel: "Perhaps Garrus said one or two things…" – but the daggers bounced off.

"Pay attention then. He's had a life and an afterlife, no rest in either. Did you love him?"

"Garrus?"

"Don't be obtuse. This is important, not least for you."

"Well… storge, agape, eros, or philia? I admit nothing."

"All of the above, but you understand me perfectly. Did anyone else love him?"

"I think we all did. I mean they did. I'm including the men. And most of the aliens. Even if he killed their mother."

"Meow. Next question. Did he love them?"

"Of course. He'd never admit it. Even the ship, likely dead now, he killed that too."

"She understood. I'm sure Hackett's working on that. But what about you?"

"He did his duty. Socializing meant dinner with paparazzi, brokers, secretaries or cops. Ancient military protocol meant no affairs within the squad, especially with subordinates. Squadmates were mission-critical, so that never happened."

Miranda sighed, and continued: "Even equal rank was dodgy."

With deliberate speed, Chloe Michel finished the cold packing and monitors. She stood up and looked Miranda in the eye:

"You don't fool me." Miranda went scarlet. "I know another secret," Michel continued slowly, "involving a non-affair with a non-squadmate, basically a civilian."

"You're not suggesting – " Miranda vibrated in denial.

"Sure am. Ms Goto mentioned it. And you would have known it too, had you been honest with yourself."
"Oh, no. Never in life. She always kept a little distance."
"Oh, yes. Well brought up, but after rescue? All she had to give was her charming self. Just ask around the crew. Or… his mother maybe." (Michel jabbed a thumb at the quasi-corpse:) "Ask him, when – if – he wakes up. Do you have the nerve? He'd have to choose."

There was a pause. Miranda's face worked; finally Michel shook her head.

"Look, I'm done arguing. Operative Lawson: you have left a crewmate, on that rock. You are going back. Or I promise you, if he ever speaks again, it will not be to you."

Silence, then– "Toombs."

"On it, ma'am."

– Next chapter will be #6, "Buster" –

Wednesday, July 15, 2015