Blaedergil's Host C.M. Simpson (first e reader .TXT) 📖

I looked at Mack.

“Your galley got any Cherry Red?”

It was a flavoring. You mixed it with water, and it formed a sweet drink... or you mixed it with your medicine to hide the taste. I usually avoided it like the plague, because it was too sweet, but I figured it would be an improvement on whatever this stuff was.

Mack got that far-off look in his eye that said he was communicating via implant, and one of the kitchen hands arrived with a bottle of the stuff. They handed it to me, and then took one look at the mess I’d made of the observation deck, and left, returning with a mop and bucket. I ignored them, and got to mixing.

I wasn’t particularly scientific about it. I just filled Doc’s canteen to the brim, and started drinking. Five swallows in, and I was battling with my stomach, again. Doc leaned in, his breath tickling my ear.

“You chuck that lot up, and I’m gonna have to go intravenous.”

Well, there was an incentive if ever I heard one. I got my stomach under control, and topped up the canteen with more of the magic red. I was going to have one hell of a sugar hangover when I was done, but, if it meant avoiding another of Doc’s well-placed shots, it was worth it. It took a good few minutes of continuous sipping, but I eventually got the whole canteen down.

“Done,” I said, and returned the canteen... which was exactly when everything that had gone down, came right back up.

I looked for the bucket, but the kitchenhand had already taken it away. Well, sheeit. Wasn’t he just going to be ten times so impressed with me? Cherry Red stains like a bitch.

Doc didn’t wait for me to recover. He pulled that derm from whichever coat pocket he’d been hiding it in, and got me good and fast. Right then, I was too busy throwing up to care. I figured if I saw a glass of Cherry anything this side of the next decade, it would be ten decades way too soon.

“You done?” Mack asked, when I’d finally stopped, and was trying to catch my breath.

“Sure,” I said, but I stayed right where I was, until someone passed me a mug of water.

“Try and keep it down,” Doc said, and I nodded.

The water settled my stomach enough for me to get to my feet, without losing anything more. I wiped my mouth, and looked at Mack.

“What next?” I asked.

“You stick with Doc in the med bay, while we get under way. Tens should be able to tell you if Doc’s gunk worked, come morning.”

I nodded, and watched as Mack headed for the door, Tens falling into step behind him. Doc stood up, and came alongside me.

“You need a san unit,” he said, and I wanted to ask him whose fault that was, but didn’t feel up to an argument he’d win hands down.

“Just show me which one’s mine,” I said.

An hour later, I settled into a med-bay bed and closed my eyes. Stars only knew how I was going to feel in the morning, but I wasn’t betting on good. It didn’t help, when Doc came in an hour later, and ran a hand scan over my head, and then over the rest of me.

“What was that for?”

“Seein’ if you’re goin’ to explode,” he said, but he didn’t explain, and he was grinning as he left.

“Sonuvabitch,” I managed, as the door closed behind him, but I didn’t bother chasing after him and demanding answers; I figured I’d find out more than I needed, when I woke up in the morning.

I was right, again, but I didn’t feel like I’d won a prize. I was facing down Delight, Mack, Doc and Tens, and none of us were happy: me because I wanted to say ‘no’, and knew I couldn’t; Doc, because I was being uncooperative; Tens and Delight, because Mack said it was my decision, and they had to wait for me to make it; and Mack, because he knew I was stalling, and we really didn’t have the time.

Finally, I just leant my head back on the wall, and rolled my eyes at the ceiling.

“Sure,” I said. “Go for it.”

And I closed my eyes.

Because I didn’t want to see this coming, and I didn’t want to run, and I knew my body wouldn’t want to stay. So, I sat, and I kept my head tilted back and my eyes closed, and I tried to not think about what was about to happen.

It almost worked. I hated needles. I hated being under. And I really didn’t want to sit there, while they replaced the implant and my head exploded... and I really had no choice. The implant needed to be out of my head; it was contaminated with whatever toxic sludge the explosive had mulched down into, after Doc’s chemical concoction had done its work.

They were all there when I agreed to let them take it out—and they were still all there, when it was done, and I came back around. That was kinda nice of them. I hadn’t realized just how dangerous the procedure was, until I opened my eyes, and found them all staring back.

“That bad, huh?” I asked, and Delight rolled her eyes.

“Hurry up,” she said, “or you’ll miss the briefing.”

There was a briefing? Since when was there a briefing?

I hurried as much as Doc would let me, while Mack and Tens waited outside the door.

“It’s not like she’s going anywhere!” Doc had snapped, when they’d looked like they might stay. It had been Tens who’d led the way out of the room.

“Old habits die hard,” Mack muttered, and followed after. “Don’t keep me waiting, Cutter. We’re meeting in the caf, before the briefing starts.”

I rolled my eyes at his departing back.

As if I’d ever!

11—Round Two Briefing

The meeting before the briefing was short, and not so sweet. The rest of the crew cleared out, and we discussed the situation on Costral,