“Can she have some more water?”
“OK, same as before. Not too much.”
I went out to the locker alcove and into the head for a paper towel. Now that the fumes from the pressurizing fluid had cleared, I could smell the air. It smelled wrong. Light machine oil and burnt metal, like the smell of a metalworking shop. I wondered whether they had overloaded the airco. That had happened once before, after the first time we’d used the acceleration chambers.
Marygay took the water without opening her eyes.
“Do you plan to stay together when you get back to Earth?”
“Probably,” I said. “If we get back to Earth. Still one more battle.”
“There won’t be any more battles,” she said flatly. “You mean you haven’t heard?”
“What?”
“Don’t you know the ship was hit?”
“Hit!” Then how could any of us be alive?
“That’s right.” She went back to her scrubbing. “Four squad bays. Also the armor bay. There isn’t a fighting suit left on the ship.. . and we can’t fight in our underwear.”
“What-squad bays, what happened to the people?”
“No survivors.”
Thirty people. “Who was it?”
“All of the third platoon. First squad of the second platoon.”
Al-Sadat, Busia, Maxwell, Negulesco. “My God.”
“Thirty deaders, and they don’t have the slightest notion of what caused it. Don’t know but that it may happen again any minute.”
“It wasn’t a drone?”
“No, we got all of their drones. Got the enemy vessel, too. Nothing showed up on any of the sensors, just blam! and a third of the ship was torn to hell. We were lucky it wasn’t the drive or the life support system.” I was hardly hearing her. Penworth, LaBatt, Smithers. Christine and Frida. All dead. I was numb.
She took a blade-type razor and a tube of gel out of her bag. “Be a gentleman and look the other way,” she said. “Oh, here.” She soaked a square of gauze in alcohol and handed it to me. “Be useful. Do her face.”
I started and, without opening her eyes, Maiygay said, “That feels good. What are you doing?”
“Being a gentleman. And useful, too-”
“All personnel, attention, all personnel.” There wasn’t a squawk-box in the pressure chamber, but I could hear it clearly through the door to the locker alcove. “All personnel echelon 6 and above, unless directly involved in medical or maintenance emergencies, report immediately to the assembly area.”
“I’ve got to go, Marygay.”
She didn’t say anything. I didn’t know whether she bad heard the announcement.
“Estelle,” I addressed her directly, gentleman be damned. “Will you-”
“Yes. I’ll let you know as soon as we can tell.”
“Well.”
“It’s going to be all right.” But her expression was grim and worried. “Now get going,” she said, softly.
By the time I picked my way out into the corridor, the ‘box was repeating the message for the fourth time. There was a new smell in the air, that I didn’t want to identify.
5
Halfway to the assembly area I realized what a mess I was, and ducked into the head by the NCO lounge. Corporal Kamehameha was hurnedly brushing her hair.
“William! What happened to you?”
“Nothing.” I turned on a tap and looked at myself in the mirror. Dried blood smeared all over my face and tunic. “It was Marygay, Corporal Potter, her suit.. . well, evidently it got a crease, ub.. .”
“Dead?”
“No, just badly, uh, she’s going into surgery-”
“Don’t use hot water. You’ll just set the stain.”
“Oh. Right.” I used the hot to wash my face and hand, dabbed at the tunic with cold. “Your squad’s just two bays down from Al’s isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see what happened?”
“No. Yes. Not when it happened.” For the first time I noticed that she was crying, big tears rolling down her cheeks and off her chin. Her voice was even, controlled. She pulled at her hair savagely. “It’s a mess.”
I stepped over and put my hand on her shoulder. “DON’T touch me!” she flared and knocked my hand off with the brush. “Sorry. Let’s go.”
At the door to the head she touched me lightly on the arm. “William. . .” She looked at me defiantly. “I’m just glad it wasn’t me. You understand? That’s the only way you can look at it.”