The Terminal War: A Space Opera Novel (A Carson Mach Adventure) by A. C. Hadfield Page B

acknowledgment.  

Chapter Ten

    As quick as the pain had arrived, it had gone. The torture device on Mach’s wrist eased its grip. He shook his arm, trying to get the blood running again and ease the ache. He pictured Kortas’ smug face and then pictured it after he had blasted it with his Stinger. The vestan would pay for this one way or another.  
    On the ground beside Mach, Beringer lay curled into a fetal position, sobbing quietly through a tense jaw. His right hand shook with the pain. The light on the manacle had changed back to a blinking light and sat visibly loose on the older man’s wrist.  
    To Mach’s right-hand side, Adira got to her feet and leaned back against the semi-frozen wall. Her face was passive through her helmet—never a good sign; this was her ‘I’m gonna murder every fucker in the room’ face. She shook her arm, clenching and unclenching her hand.
    “Are you two okay?” Mach asked them.  
    “I will be in a minute,” Adira said. She looked at Mach, a silent question on her face that Mach had come to know to mean, ‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ Her single raised eyebrow had the amazing ability to communicate both disdain and genuine query.  
    Mach simply nodded to her, knowing she knew he was full of shit. He had no idea how this was going to go down. Kortas seemed out of control for one of the most revered of all vestans. This episode had affected him, and his fellow Guardians, far more than he was letting on. But that was fine, Mach thought, he’d just see this through, one way or another, and get some answers at the end of it.  
    Just as soon as he figured out how to remove these damned manacle, or at least find a way of disabling the signal to them. It was situations like these he wished he had Babcock with him.  
    Mach looked down at Beringer, who was now slowly getting to his feet, and wondered if he had made the right decision to bring him along after all. Back in the war, Mach wouldn’t have been so sentimental to consider the idea that he owed someone. And it wouldn’t have even crossed the old Mach’s mind to feel that he ought to make it up to someone and bring them along as a way of assuaging their frustrations. Beringer’s mission could have waited.  
    Mach didn’t need to have brought him along. His archeological skills were clearly of no use here.  
    Feeling bad for thinking like this, Mach helped Beringer to his feet and steadied him by gripping his shoulders. “Are you all right?” Mach asked.  
    Beringer wouldn’t look up, presumably shamed for his sobbing.  
    “Couldn’t be fucking better,” Beringer said, shrugging Mach off and bending down to pick up his laser. He then wandered a few meters further down the dirt- and ice-encrusted tunnel.  
    Mach was about to tell him not to go too far, but it was clear the older man needed some space. Mach would keep him in sight, but would let him have a moment to himself.  
    “Kortas,” Mach said, speaking into his manacle, “you there? We get your message loud and clear. But if you keep incapacitating us, we won’t be able to complete your task.” It was an effort for Mach to remain civil and in control, but it was clear Kortas had all the power in this situation, and it made no sense to antagonize the Guardian any further. It was quite obvious to Mach now that the Guardians were panicking about this whole situation, which made them unpredictable.  
    “I needed to show you the severity of the situation,” Kortas said, his voice even, almost distant now as though his thoughts were somewhere else—perhaps communing with the Saviors. “And the consequences of failure to do as we ask. We have requested your help and have made an exception to have you here. But you also need to respect our customs. Work with us, Carson Mach, and you’ll get out of this alive.”
    The alternative was obvious. “Fine,” he said. “Then let us do our jobs. You want this thing found and destroyed; we