"I'd kill you, Murph. I'd kill you if it wouldn't leave me all alone."
"Gotta think. Gotta think."
"It's your fault, Murph. We never shoulda come, damn you!"
Check the damage, Kea wanted to say. The urge was desperate... Check the damage.
He felt his lips tighten to speak.
A wave washed in and took him away.
He was thirsty.
God he was thirsty.
A voice. Ruth's.
"Hell, I don't know. He's broken up, or something. Inside. I'm no physician."
"What about Fazlur?" Murph's voice.
"Who cares?" came the twitter—Vasoovan. "He got us into this."
"Castro's worse," he heard Ruth say. "I followed the directions in the medkit best I could. The stump stopped bleeding, if that's any consolation." Her voice was cold.
"Still out?"
"Still out. Thank God. Those screams were awful."
Water, Kea thought. I'm so thirsty.
"We've got practically no rations," Vasoovan shrilled. "And very little water."
"I say we put them both out of their misery. And we can live a little longer."
"That wouldn't be right," Ruth said. Perfunctory.
"Naw," Murph said. "Guess it wouldn't... Besides, long as they're out, they ain't costin‘ us anything. Except air. And we've plenty of that."
The tide lifted Kea up again and carried him off.
Pain. Waves and jabs of it.
But it was bearable pain. And there was no numbness.
There was still no light. Eyes... felt... crusted shut. Dried... What?... Blood? Yes, blood.
"Jeez, this suit stinks," he heard Murph say.
There were sounds of fastenings being opened. The clank of equipment falling.
"Did you get back as far as the drive unit this time?" Ruth asked.
"Yeah. Wasn't hit too hard, either. And the input to the controls checks out."
"Can we run it?" Came the twitter.
Kea heard Murph sigh. "I said it wasn't hit too hard. Meaning... it's fixable. But not by me. And not by anyone else here."
Kea struggled the word out "Water."
"Hey, it's Richards." Murph said.
"What's he want?" Vasoovan asked.
"Water. He said water," Ruth said. "I'll get it for him."
"Hey, Murph," Vasoovan said. "We didn't talk about this, Murph. Last we talked, you said they ain't costin‘ us anything. Remember?"
"I remember."
Kea was suddenly frightened that a decision was being reached. And even more frightened how it would come out. Where was Ruth? Why wasn't she speaking up for him?
Don't wait for Ruth!
"I can fix it," Kea croaked.
"He really is awake," Ruth said. Meaning: he heard us talking.
"What's that you say, partner?" It was Murph. Jovial. Kea felt him move close. Imagined him peering down. "You say you can fix it? Fix the drive?"
Kea wanted to say more. A lot more. But he hadn't the strength. So there was only one response. "Water," he croaked. Then he fell back. It was his first and final offer.
A rustling. Then cool water touched his lips. He lapped it until he'd had enough. Perfume floated down to him, along with a voice. "Oh, darling," Ruth said. "I'm so very happy you're alive." A kiss brushed his cheek.
He slept.
Kea hoisted himself on his good arm to get a better view. The other was strapped tight to his body. "That's a good seal," he said. "That's a keeper. Now... lift it up and you'll see a Y-shaped impression."
On the screen he saw Murph's suited hands do his bidding. He was crammed into a space between the drive unit and a bulkhead. "Got it," Murph said.
"Good. You'll find a tool that matches in your beltpack. But before you open the cover... make sure you set up the shield."
"Damn straight," Murph said as he went to work.
"No sense worrying about cancer," Vasoovan twittered. "None of us are going to live that long."
"Humorous," Ruth said. "How jolly you keep us all."
Kea ignored the start-up of another bickering match. He fell back into the cot. "Get me some soup," he said. Ruth turned a deadly look on him.
"You had your ration," Vasoovan said.
"Soup." Kea said. He was sick. He needed more. End discussion. Kea looked up at Murph working in the drive room. When the cover was off, the next step should go pretty easy. Hunger knotted under his ribs again. As sharp as if they were broken clean. Instead of cracked.
He lifted himself up to look for Ruth, his back barely supporting him. She was still sitting in the chair. Vasoovan was watching, enjoying herself. "Who are you to give people orders?" Ruth snarled. "Who are you to break rules and eat and drink more than the rest of us?"
"Doesn't matter," Kea said. "Do it—or they'll make you." Hysterical twitter. "No eat. No work. Guy drives a hard bargain."
All four of Vasoovan's eyestalks turned on Ruth. "Get him what he wants," she said. "Or we'll put you in the soup with Fazlur." Ruth did as she was told.
Kea settled in to wait. Murph should be ready for the next little step in about four hours. Then Kea would trade yet another bit of knowledge for nourishment. And another. Until it was done. Two more weeks, he thought. And then we shall see what we shall see.
Fazlur had died three days earlier. He'd tossed and groaned for an eternity, never quite conscious, nor quite out enough to not feel pain. No one had moved to help him, much less feed him or bring him drink. Kea hadn't spoken up for Fazlur. Why bother? They would have refused him help. Kea's bargain would not be stretched to include Fazlur. Murph, Vasoovan, and Ruth were the strong here. Kea was helpless until his injuries healed.
Besides, in Vasoovan's predator logic of survival, Fazlur was the most expendable. "We get lucky and make it," Vasoovan had said, "we don't need him. Not alive. We got his proof. His absolute proof. All in his data file."
"I just wish he would get it over with," Ruth had said. "I can't stand his infernal groaning. He used to sound like that sometimes when we made love. A pig." Kea had turned away from them. To his own thoughts. And sleep.
Sometime later, Kea had come to semiconsciousness. Fazlur was groaning. The others made the noises of sleep. Then he heard movement. A softer patter of feet. The smell of sweet perfume. The groaning stopped. Abrupt. Then the soft pad of feet.
They found Fazlur dead the next day.
"Run him through the reclaimer," Vasoovan had twittered. "Add him to the soup." He was referring to the sort of nutrition stew produced by their own waste and the dwindling supply of plant protein being produced in the damaged hydroponic room.
"Why not?" Ruth had said. "Make some use out of him. It seems so fitting, somehow."
Kea had watched them lug the corpse out of the room. Hunger gnawed at him again. He heard light footsteps. Ruth's perfume. He took the mug from her without looking up. He drank. There was no taste at all.
Poor Fazlur.
The curtain between universes hung before them, beckoning. If things had worked out differently, Kea supposed it would have been called Fazlur's Discontinuity. He looked about the room. Vasoovan. Murph. Ruth. No one here would give Fazlur a drop of the credit. As for himself... well, he had ideas of his own. Just formulating.
"We're ready," Vasoovan said.
Kea struggled up. Some life was returning to his bound-up arm. He was getting stronger. Barely. "One thing more," Kea announced, "before we go through."
They turned to him, alarmed.
"Don't worry. The drive unit's fine," he said. "But what I want you all to remember when we get to the other side is that it's five months home."
"Yeah? So?" From Murph.
"So now that everything's working okay, some of you might get the idea you don't need me anymore. That the chief engineer is expendable—like the chief scientist." No protests. No offended denials. Only silence. "I took out insurance to keep us friends," Kea continued. "I fixed the drive unit, okay. But I slipped Murph a little extra task to do. An extra step."