That bit of inattention cost me dearly.
Tens got in close, slamming me back over the calf he’d hooked around my legs, and trying to pile-drive his heel into my mid-section as I went down. I hit the mat, hard, and rolled enough to my side to avoid his foot, lashing out with a hand to grab his supporting leg and pull it out from under him.
This was usually where I bounced back to my feet, and out of Mack’s reach—but I wasn’t fighting Mack; I was fighting Tens. He still hit hard, but wasn’t quite as likely to wrap my spleen around my spine. This time, when the timer went to end the round, neither of us backed away.
Instead of going back to my feet, I dived on top of Tens’s chest and tried to pin him down with an elbow across the throat. That didn’t work out so well for me, as Tens gut-punched me twice for leaving too much room between us.
That. Hurt.
I tried to return the favor, but he wrapped his free hand around the pressure point above my supporting elbow and the arm went numb. That round finished pretty quickly with me seeing stars as the crewman that had volunteered to referee the fight called an end to the round—and the fight.
Seeing as we’d drawn the first round, and fought past the end of the second, the third round was the decider. Two draws and a win, with me pretty much coming out the loser. I just lay on the mat and sucked air, wondering how mad Doc was going to be with me for cracking another couple of ribs.
It was little comfort that Tens was in the same boat, judging from the way he was pressing his hand to his side as he tried to stand up straight. Around the edge of the mats, cred sticks passed between hands, and people gloated or commiserated as needed. I rolled slowly onto my butt, and pushed up onto my feet, wary as Tens moved towards me.
“Not bad,” he said, offering me a hand up. “You’ve come a long way since the first time we did this.”
He was right. I had. I hadn’t lasted a round the first time. Come to think of it, that had been about computers, too. In fact, I think I’d borrowed his system, and he was explaining just how much he hated it when I hacked through his passcodes.
“Yeah, that’d be it,” he told me, and even his mind voice sounded breathless.
Breathless, huh? I’d done better than I’d thought I could—and I wasn’t even juiced.
It wasn’t exactly a surprise to find Mack standing at the edge of the arena, Rohan by his side. My guess was Mack had decided the fight would be more educational than any fitness drill or sparring match he could devise... either that, or they were about to get started.
Tens wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and leant on me like he needed the support. Come to think of it, so did I. I returned the gesture, and we helped each other off the mats. Neither of us bothered putting out boots back on.
“See you in the caf when you’re done,” Tens told Mack, as we passed. “I’ve found us a job.”
I caught Mack’s nod, and the expression of interest that flitted across his face too fast for him to hide, and then Tens and I stumbled past, heading for Medical. Doc was probably not gonna be happy to see us.
3—Pre-Ops
I was right, which wasn’t exactly a good thing.
Doc wasn’t happy to see us. In fact, he was downright annoyed.
“I ought to put you both in tanks and leave you there until you learn some common sense,” he growled, and I figured he couldn’t mean it.
The Shady Marie had only one tank. There was no way he could put us both in a tank and leave us there. Most tanks only took the one patient—this one included, if what I knew of tanks was right.
“I could have fun tryin’,” Doc muttered, picking the thought right out of my head, because, of course, he had as much access as both Mack and Tens. There was no way I was getting any privacy, any time soon.
He strapped Tens’s ribs, and then strapped mine, and then he looked at where Tens was sitting beside me, and dipped his head in a single nod. I was moving before he was done, but I was never going to be moving fast enough. Even a sore Tens was fast, and he’d been expecting the good Doc’s signal.
He had me wrapped in his arms and pinned at about the same time as Doc came up and stood beside me.
“You really need to get the Hell over this,” Doc scolded, and slid the needle through the bandages, and into my skin.
My legs were moving as the cold burn of nanites flowed over my ribs, and Doc slid the needle back out. I felt it withdraw, and watched as Doc went back over to the medical cabinet. He discarded the used needle and picked up a second one, but he didn’t turn around.
“You can go wait outside, Cutter,” he said. “Tens will join you in a minute.”
I could, and I did, and I waited, tense and hurting, until Tens came out of the medical center.
“You okay?” he asked, when he saw me, standing up against the wall. “Only you look like you’re waiting for a firing squad, and I don’t have one with me.”
“I’m fine,” I told him, and came off the wall to walk with him down the corridor.
“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
Well, we both knew that. I nodded, the fear leaching out of me.
“Yup.”
Mack was waiting in the small room that served as an officer’s mess in the caf. He’d already ordered a light meal, and was busy glaring at Rohan’s dog when we came
