Arin.
She cut again. There was the staccato sputter of gunfire not far now, just down the corridor from the operating room.
“Hurry.” Saad, by her side, his body angled, trying to shield her.
“Do what it takes,” said Arin. “Don’t hurry. We’re not going anywhere.”
“There’s no time!” Saad scuttled closer. “I want you out of here, Elizabeth! Leave Bashir. You and Arin just get out.”
“And go where?” asked Lense. She didn’t look up. She was through muscle now. Under the smashed xiphoid, she saw the pulse of the bluish-brown pericardial sac, streaked with fat. The sac ballooned with blood being forced out with every beat. She rooted in a clutch of instruments. “I can’t stop now, and I won’t leave Julian. So we just take our chances.”
“Elizabeth.” She heard the anguish in his voice. “Don’t you understand? I can’t let them take you, or Bashir. Or me.”
“I know that. So, don’t shoot me until I’m done.” And now she did look at him. “Deal?”
He looked at her for a long moment, then kissed her hard. “I love you.” His voice was ragged. “Hold that in your heart, Elizabeth, and remember.”
The pock-pock of sniper fire was so close it made her jump. So she said everything she could with her eyes before turning back to her work—because there was more to do and very little time left.
She fished out a slim pair of surgical scissors. “When I cut through, there’s bound to be a clot and a lot of blood, Arin. Better hope it’s through and through so I can close. You’ve got to plug the hole, then tell me which suture to use.”
“Don’t worry about me,” said Arin. “I’m ready.”
Hollow thuds, then bangs against the door. Muffled curses and then a grate of metal as whoever was on the other side tried, unsuccessfully, to push open the door.
“They’ll come around to the scrub room, or blow that door,” said Saad. “You’re almost out of time, Elizabeth.”
One chance. Lense made first one, then two, then three cuts. A dark brown clot spilled out along with fresh blood, and then Arin had his thumb over the tear in Kahayn’s still-beating heart.
“That’s got it there.” Arin squirmed his index finger around back, searching for another tear. “Got it. Bullet can’t be in the heart. Okay, you need suture for—”
But that was the last thing Arin said that Lense ever heard.
Because then, suddenly, she felt a tingling along her skin, one that raised the hackles on her neck. She gasped but knew this was no dream.
The combadge in my pocket; the transporter; they found us; only seconds left!
“No!” she screamed as the air broke apart. Kahayn’s blood was warm, but her hand was cold because, in another instant, Lense knew she wouldn’t be there at all. “No, please, let me finish!”
“Elizabeth!” Saad, spinning around, stopping dead, the glow of the transporter reflecting off his skin, turning it white as bone. “Elizabeth!”
She saw them all in that last crystalline second and knew she’d never reach or save them all: not Julian and Saad and Arin. And even Kahayn.
One chance. One choice.
She took it.
Epilogue
W ell, at least the stars were right again. But so many questions with no answers. A sense of things left undone.
Ship’s night now. She prowled the corridors of the da Vinci. She was listless, no appetite. She slid into inky shadows splashed in the well of a bulkhead and let the sturdy metal brace her up.
Gomez and her people had rescued them, doping out some kind of alien device that had access to other universes. She didn’t understand half of it—and from the sounds of it, neither did anyone else, though Tev seemed to think he did—and when they got through and detected gunfire and Bashir’s vitals in such poor shape, they beamed them out quickly. Standard procedure.
She hadn’t wanted company. After Gold debriefed her, no one pressed. She gathered a lot had happened—phrases like Empok Nor, Rec Station
She cut again. There was the staccato sputter of gunfire not far now, just down the corridor from the operating room.
“Hurry.” Saad, by her side, his body angled, trying to shield her.
“Do what it takes,” said Arin. “Don’t hurry. We’re not going anywhere.”
“There’s no time!” Saad scuttled closer. “I want you out of here, Elizabeth! Leave Bashir. You and Arin just get out.”
“And go where?” asked Lense. She didn’t look up. She was through muscle now. Under the smashed xiphoid, she saw the pulse of the bluish-brown pericardial sac, streaked with fat. The sac ballooned with blood being forced out with every beat. She rooted in a clutch of instruments. “I can’t stop now, and I won’t leave Julian. So we just take our chances.”
“Elizabeth.” She heard the anguish in his voice. “Don’t you understand? I can’t let them take you, or Bashir. Or me.”
“I know that. So, don’t shoot me until I’m done.” And now she did look at him. “Deal?”
He looked at her for a long moment, then kissed her hard. “I love you.” His voice was ragged. “Hold that in your heart, Elizabeth, and remember.”
The pock-pock of sniper fire was so close it made her jump. So she said everything she could with her eyes before turning back to her work—because there was more to do and very little time left.
She fished out a slim pair of surgical scissors. “When I cut through, there’s bound to be a clot and a lot of blood, Arin. Better hope it’s through and through so I can close. You’ve got to plug the hole, then tell me which suture to use.”
“Don’t worry about me,” said Arin. “I’m ready.”
Hollow thuds, then bangs against the door. Muffled curses and then a grate of metal as whoever was on the other side tried, unsuccessfully, to push open the door.
“They’ll come around to the scrub room, or blow that door,” said Saad. “You’re almost out of time, Elizabeth.”
One chance. Lense made first one, then two, then three cuts. A dark brown clot spilled out along with fresh blood, and then Arin had his thumb over the tear in Kahayn’s still-beating heart.
“That’s got it there.” Arin squirmed his index finger around back, searching for another tear. “Got it. Bullet can’t be in the heart. Okay, you need suture for—”
But that was the last thing Arin said that Lense ever heard.
Because then, suddenly, she felt a tingling along her skin, one that raised the hackles on her neck. She gasped but knew this was no dream.
The combadge in my pocket; the transporter; they found us; only seconds left!
“No!” she screamed as the air broke apart. Kahayn’s blood was warm, but her hand was cold because, in another instant, Lense knew she wouldn’t be there at all. “No, please, let me finish!”
“Elizabeth!” Saad, spinning around, stopping dead, the glow of the transporter reflecting off his skin, turning it white as bone. “Elizabeth!”
She saw them all in that last crystalline second and knew she’d never reach or save them all: not Julian and Saad and Arin. And even Kahayn.
One chance. One choice.
She took it.
Epilogue
W ell, at least the stars were right again. But so many questions with no answers. A sense of things left undone.
Ship’s night now. She prowled the corridors of the da Vinci. She was listless, no appetite. She slid into inky shadows splashed in the well of a bulkhead and let the sturdy metal brace her up.
Gomez and her people had rescued them, doping out some kind of alien device that had access to other universes. She didn’t understand half of it—and from the sounds of it, neither did anyone else, though Tev seemed to think he did—and when they got through and detected gunfire and Bashir’s vitals in such poor shape, they beamed them out quickly. Standard procedure.
She hadn’t wanted company. After Gold debriefed her, no one pressed. She gathered a lot had happened—phrases like Empok Nor, Rec Station
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