sheriff dashed forward, his pretend gun put away, his hand nothing but a hand. It swiped sideways with dizzying speed, and when the gun went off, a puff of smoke leapt out of its barrel, and a matching cloud drifted down from the wounded ceiling.
Molly collapsed from the suddenness and shock of it all. She sank to her knees and leaned against the bars with her arms wrapped around them. Hugging them. The sheriff stood over the gurgling deputy, a smoking gun in his hand. The Wadi jumped off and ran in a brief circle around the sheriff’s feet.
“You go on back,” the sheriff said, waving the Wadi away.
The Wadi dutifully obliged, scurrying toward Molly and leaving behind a trail of tiny red prints.
Sheriff Browne turned to her. He slowly placed the deputy’s gun inside his empty holster, then patted it fondly like a son returned home from war. Molly looked up and saw him tip his hat in her direction. The Wadi climbed her shirt and curled around her neck. She could feel the creature vibrating with energy, or fear—maybe even excitement.
“We got us a no-pets policy for a reason,” Sheriff Brown said. He nodded at her Wadi and tapped his temple. “Wouldn’t be so paranoid about critters reading my mind if I didn’t know what was in here, myself.”
48
Cole sat up on the operating table and moved his arm in slow circles. He grimaced from the soreness in his back, his other shoulder, and all the other and
Penny watched him from behind the tray at the foot of his bed. “Looks like you managed to get that new shoulder you always wanted,” she said as she gathered up surgical instruments and power tools—both specked with blood and hydraulic fluid.
Cole looked up, expecting to find her smirking at him, teasing him, but she wore a solemn, sad, expression.
“Would’ve saved it if I could,” Arthur said. He glanced up from his portable computer. “And the next time you overpower the limiters, it’ll be your collarbone and ribs that give way. So please—on behalf of my spares cabinet— don’t do anything like that ever again.”
Cole nodded, suppressing a grin.
Mortimor walked into the operating room with a towel in one hand, his hair sticking up from having recently been soaked and then dried off. “You are one crazy sonofabitch,” he said, shaking his head.
“We were just going over that,” Arthur said, “and attempting to correct some personality defects.”
Mortimor stepped around Penny and came to Cole’s side. He took Cole’s new arm by the wrist and looked it over. “You shore up the collar-bone?” he asked Arthur.
Arthur sighed. “Yes, but please don’t tell him that.”
Mortimor smiled and nodded.
“How did the salvage go?” Arthur asked Mortimor.
The smile faded. “Not good,” he said. “What’s left of the skimmers, usable anyway, could fit in a bucket.”
“Sorry about that,” said Cole.
Mortimor sat on the edge of Cole’s cot and gave him a stern look. “Apology accepted. Now, I don’t know what you were trying to prove, but you don’t rush off by yourself like that. You wait for help, understand?”
Cole peered down at his lap and nodded.
“No more flying solo, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Alright.” Mortimor patted Cole’s knee and stood up. “Having said that, you did good out there. If those two had gotten clear…” Mortimor left the sentence unfinished. He looked from Cole to Arthur.
“Speaking of those two, what
Arthur laughed and shook his head. “Above my pay grade, I’m afraid.”
“A Bern?”
“Made by the Bern, from what you described. A tool they like to use.” Arthur finished his adjustments and put the computer away. He turned to Mortimor. “Maybe we should call off this raid and do another sweep through the crew to look for moles. Among the Humans, especially.”
“We can’t abort,” Mortimor said. He rubbed his beard with the towel and leaned back against the wall. “I talked to the Seer and let her know what happened. She said we should go as planned. Seemed insistent, actually.”
Penny finished loading the tools and surgical instruments into a drum sanitizer. She looked up at the mention of the Seer. “Did she say anything else?”
Mortimor glanced her direction, then looked to Cole. “Just that she enjoyed her visit with our new friend here.” He set his towel aside and scanned the room. “And…”
“And what?” Penny asked.
Mortimor nodded to Cole. “She reiterated what you told me. She said everyone goes. I’ve already told Ryke to plan accordingly.”
“Everyone goes on the raid?”
“That’s right.” Mortimor frowned. “She said not to leave anyone behind.”
“What does that mean?” Penny asked.
Mortimor shook his head. “I think it means we’re done here, for good or bad. It probably means we were too late, or there were too little of us, or that this whole blasted enterprise has been an exercise in futility. It means we’re giving up. Running away.”
Arthur stepped back, as if physically struck by the words. “Did she say when?”
“As soon as we can. I’m ordering a synchronized sleep schedule effective immediately with a briefing at oh six hundred. No more shifts. No more perimeter defense. Everybody is resting up for this one and it’ll be our last.”
Arthur shook his head. “I can’t sleep. There’s too much to do.”
“Don’t worry. You and I are exempt. Ryke and his boys will be working straight through as well to finish the boxes and make sure they haven’t been tampered with in any other way.”
“I should go help them,” Cole said. He made to get up from the cot, but Mortimor stepped forward and pushed him back.
“Actually, you need to get your rest.”
“But those are
“And you’ll be happy to hear you’re getting your wish. You’ve proven yourself in combat, and frankly, we need every able soldier we’ve got. So heal up in a hurry. If Arthur clears you, you’ll be a part of this wild-ass plan of yours.”
“I am?” Cole looked to Arthur for confirmation. “I will be?”
Arthur shrugged.
“Get some sleep,” Mortimor said. He picked up his towel and walked away, slapping Arthur on the back as he went. Arthur startled out of whatever he’d been thinking. He shot Cole a brief glance before turning to Penny.
“Better tape up that bandage on his other arm a little tighter, then.” He pulled out his computer, gave Cole one more serious look, then turned and hurried after Mortimor.
Penny and Cole were left alone in the small operating room. A machine in the corner whirred softly, its presence revealed by the new silence. Penny pulled her blue gloves off and crossed from the sanitizing machine to a low counter. She fumbled in a drawer, her actions tense and hurried.
“Is everything okay?” Cole asked.
Penny pulled out a roll of tape and slapped it to the counter. Cole cringed as the sharp noise rang out in the small room. He sat quietly while Penny stared down at the back of her hand, which covered the roll of tape.
“If I hadn’t noticed the wiring,
