Returning to the
casket, he sidled around it to get a good angle, flexing his right
hand.
"What's he
going to do?" Estrelle whispered to Matris.
"You're about
to find out."
Sabre leant
over the casket, drew back his fist and punched the floor with a
terrific bang, making Estrelle jump and squeak. He recoiled with a
curse, shook and wrung his hand, then nursed it against his
chest.
"Damn, that
hurts."
Estrelle
stared at him, her hands clamped over her mouth. He paced around,
rubbing his hand. Returning to the casket, he leant over it again,
positioning himself. His fist hit the floor with another loud bang,
and he swung away once more, nursing his hand.
"Shit!"
Estrelle cast
Martis a wide-eyed look, and he grimaced. Sabre inspected his hand,
pulling off the glove to suck the split skin of one knuckle, which
bled. Replacing the glove and returning to the casket, he leant
into it and tested the floor. He punched it again, swung away with
another curse and held his hand clasped to his chest. When he took
off the glove to inspect his hand, blood oozed from his knuckles,
and he grimaced, frowning.
"You're
hurting yourself," Estrelle pointed out.
"You don't
say?" Sabre muttered.
Martis touched
her arm. "Leave him alone."
"But he's
-"
"Estrelle,
please!"
"Okay! Sheesh!
I just thought maybe there are some tools on this tub he could use
instead of his fist. A hammer, maybe?"
Martis shook
his head. "Why would there be tools on an unmanned ship?"
"I don't
know."
"If there
were, Sabre would know. He has all the information about every ship
every built, so if he's using his damned fist, there are no tools,
okay?"
"Fine."
Sabre put the
glove back on and returned to the casket. Reaching inside, he
tugged at something. Estrelle moved closer and peered in, horrified
to find that he had hooked his fingers around the sharp edge of the
torn metal square and was pulling it up. The edge cut through the
glove and into his fingers, and he grimaced, biting his lip. As
soon as the metal bent a little, he eased his hand further in,
getting a better grip, then pulled on it again. The metal creaked
and ripped free with a screech, flew up and hit the ceiling with a
clang before clattering to the floor.
Sabre pulled
off the glove and inspected his hand, which now bled from deep cuts
in his fingers and grazes on the back of it. Estrelle frowned at
him, chewing her lip. Sabre gripped one of the exposed oxygen
cylinders and ripped it free. Oxygen hissed from the broken pipe,
and he squeezed the end of it half shut, cutting down the flow to a
trickle. Reaching into the casket again, he pulled out a square
object and placed it on the floor. It hummed, and air moved through
it. The cyber went over the medical kit he had removed from the lid
of the casket and found a roll of bandage, starting to wrap his
hand.
"I'll do that
for you," Martis volunteered.
Sabre nodded,
returned to the console and sat on the floor beside it. He rested
his head against it and closed his eyes. Martis took the bandage
and wound it expertly around Sabre's hand, the clean white cloth
turning pink. Estrelle pondered the cyber, then sat beside the
rack.
"So we're okay
now?"
"For a few
hours."
"And
then?"
"Then I'll
open the other one."
"But now we -
you have to change our course, so we can reach an inhabited planet,
right?"
He sighed, a
tired smile curving his lips. "Yeah."
"So how long
before -?"
"Estrelle,"
Martis interrupted. "If you don't shut up, I swear, I'll gag
you."
"What's wrong
with asking -?"
"Enough!"
Estrelle
glowered at him, mutinous. Martis bandaged Sabre's hand and came
over to sit beside her, leaning against the rack.
"Look, leave
him alone, okay? He doesn't have to help us, and all you're doing
is pissing him off. He'll do what's necessary, when it's necessary,
but he doesn't need your constant carping."
"You really
think he'd let us die, just because I ask too many questions?"
"I don't know.
I very much doubt that he likes us, given what
casket, he sidled around it to get a good angle, flexing his right
hand.
"What's he
going to do?" Estrelle whispered to Matris.
"You're about
to find out."
Sabre leant
over the casket, drew back his fist and punched the floor with a
terrific bang, making Estrelle jump and squeak. He recoiled with a
curse, shook and wrung his hand, then nursed it against his
chest.
"Damn, that
hurts."
Estrelle
stared at him, her hands clamped over her mouth. He paced around,
rubbing his hand. Returning to the casket, he leant over it again,
positioning himself. His fist hit the floor with another loud bang,
and he swung away once more, nursing his hand.
"Shit!"
Estrelle cast
Martis a wide-eyed look, and he grimaced. Sabre inspected his hand,
pulling off the glove to suck the split skin of one knuckle, which
bled. Replacing the glove and returning to the casket, he leant
into it and tested the floor. He punched it again, swung away with
another curse and held his hand clasped to his chest. When he took
off the glove to inspect his hand, blood oozed from his knuckles,
and he grimaced, frowning.
"You're
hurting yourself," Estrelle pointed out.
"You don't
say?" Sabre muttered.
Martis touched
her arm. "Leave him alone."
"But he's
-"
"Estrelle,
please!"
"Okay! Sheesh!
I just thought maybe there are some tools on this tub he could use
instead of his fist. A hammer, maybe?"
Martis shook
his head. "Why would there be tools on an unmanned ship?"
"I don't
know."
"If there
were, Sabre would know. He has all the information about every ship
every built, so if he's using his damned fist, there are no tools,
okay?"
"Fine."
Sabre put the
glove back on and returned to the casket. Reaching inside, he
tugged at something. Estrelle moved closer and peered in, horrified
to find that he had hooked his fingers around the sharp edge of the
torn metal square and was pulling it up. The edge cut through the
glove and into his fingers, and he grimaced, biting his lip. As
soon as the metal bent a little, he eased his hand further in,
getting a better grip, then pulled on it again. The metal creaked
and ripped free with a screech, flew up and hit the ceiling with a
clang before clattering to the floor.
Sabre pulled
off the glove and inspected his hand, which now bled from deep cuts
in his fingers and grazes on the back of it. Estrelle frowned at
him, chewing her lip. Sabre gripped one of the exposed oxygen
cylinders and ripped it free. Oxygen hissed from the broken pipe,
and he squeezed the end of it half shut, cutting down the flow to a
trickle. Reaching into the casket again, he pulled out a square
object and placed it on the floor. It hummed, and air moved through
it. The cyber went over the medical kit he had removed from the lid
of the casket and found a roll of bandage, starting to wrap his
hand.
"I'll do that
for you," Martis volunteered.
Sabre nodded,
returned to the console and sat on the floor beside it. He rested
his head against it and closed his eyes. Martis took the bandage
and wound it expertly around Sabre's hand, the clean white cloth
turning pink. Estrelle pondered the cyber, then sat beside the
rack.
"So we're okay
now?"
"For a few
hours."
"And
then?"
"Then I'll
open the other one."
"But now we -
you have to change our course, so we can reach an inhabited planet,
right?"
He sighed, a
tired smile curving his lips. "Yeah."
"So how long
before -?"
"Estrelle,"
Martis interrupted. "If you don't shut up, I swear, I'll gag
you."
"What's wrong
with asking -?"
"Enough!"
Estrelle
glowered at him, mutinous. Martis bandaged Sabre's hand and came
over to sit beside her, leaning against the rack.
"Look, leave
him alone, okay? He doesn't have to help us, and all you're doing
is pissing him off. He'll do what's necessary, when it's necessary,
but he doesn't need your constant carping."
"You really
think he'd let us die, just because I ask too many questions?"
"I don't know.
I very much doubt that he likes us, given what
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