Air seeping into her chest cavity had allowed one lung to collapse, aggravating the fact that the other was half-full of clotted blood. Besieged with such a wide variety of injuries, Darcy's white blood cell production had kicked into overdrive. The monstrous flood of white cells was choking out any room for red cells to bring life-giving oxygen. Darcy was sinking under an endless chain-reaction of medical failures as her shutdown became increasingly systemic.

Ridgeway looked up as Taz limped across the pitched floor. A grey pallor sapped the hue from normally tan skin. Amidst the undressed contusions that sprawled across his frame, a small gauze patch clung to his left arm just below the black tattoo that read 'Oz'.

Taz drew up alongside the medic and leaned close. "Listen mate, I'm not mucking about here. You know we're the same blood type. If the LT needs more then let's have another go. I can run on a half a tank."

The medic was deadpan. "You're already down to half a tank."

The Aussie's cadaverous tone testified to the recent drainage. Taz shouldered closer, his voice a forced hush through clenched teeth. "Then b.l.o.o.d.y well run me to a quarter dammit, run it dry. We're not losing anybody."

Ridgeway saw St.i.tch flare for an instant before just as quickly deflating, too exhausted for anger. The medic said with a weary sigh. "Taz, if I thought I could save her by cutting your heart out with a dull spoon, you'da been on the table already."

"Too right!" Taz spat out. He blinked once, then his gaze fell to the table. His amber eyes had dulled to a shade of burnt copper. The Aussie ran a scarred hand across the veneer of stubble that covered his skull and added with a solemn nod, "If it comes to that, you let me know, right?"

St.i.tch gripped him coa.r.s.ely on the shoulder. "Count on it."

Ridgeway saw the medic grin just once, a feeble attempt that did little to ease the suffering that smoldered in both men's eyes. Then the moment faded and both faces fell back into furrow.

Taz looked once more at Darcy and sighed, his grey skin losing yet another shade. With a slow shake of his head he turned and limped away.

St.i.tch yawned heavily and backed away, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. He abruptly slipped on the angled deck and dropped hard to one knee. "s.h.i.t!"

Ridgeway grabbed a flailing arm and hauled St.i.tch back to his feet. Ignoring the weary protests, Ridgeway manhandled him to a chair. The medic fell into it with a huff.

"I'm running out of fixes Major," St.i.tch slurred. "She's in a spiral. I don't know what kind of Sickbay this is, but it hasn't got s.h.i.t in terms of equipment. The supply lockers have been stripped. The f.u.c.king walls have more computer screens than an air traffic control center, but there's nothing for them to display. If there's something here that can help, I'll be d.a.m.ned if I know what it is."

"What are her chances?" Ridgeway's question bordered on the far edge of optimism.

"Of surviving the next ten minutes? Half decent. Push that to an hour and they drop to zilch."

Ridgeway caught the note of resignation in St.i.tch's voice and fought his own growing sense of hopelessness. He drew a deep breath and groped for answers. The frigid air smelled of antiseptic, blood and old sweat.

"Any chance we can gut this pommy b.a.s.t.a.r.d for parts?" The unexpected question cut in from the left side of the room, laced with derision. Both Ridgeway and St.i.tch turned towards the sound.

Taz stood over the battered figure in Alliance coveralls. The orange survival suit had been cut away, strips of the material used to fashion splints for one arm and both legs. Hands and feet were swathed in bandages, but the coal-black stumps of fingers and toes stood testament to the brutal effects of frostbite. The lapel tape on the stained grey coveralls read JENNER.

The trucker looked up from the floor through eyes dull with pain. Another weary moan rattled in his chest.

Taz slid a combat knife from his boot as he expanded on his offer. "I'd be happy to fish you out anything you need; lungs, liver, you name it." The razor-edged blade glinted as the Aussie rolled his wrist as though making the first brutal incision.

Jenner's eyes widened, either the sight of the knife or the tone of Taz's voice piercing the shroud of his limited consciousness. A ragged sucking sound rose from his throat as his limbs wriggled aimlessly.

Ridgeway glanced at St.i.tch, their eyes locked for a brief instant. They replied in unison.

"NO!".

Taz slumped at the rebuke while the Rimmer flopped like a fish trying to walk. Ridgeway could see the Aussie's thumb flick absently across the blade's edge. The copper eyes didn't blink, fixed with a shark's malevolence on the figure at his feet. Alarm snaked its way up Ridgeway's spine as the blade lingered outside of its sheath.

The moment was shattered by a sudden electrical thrum that surged through the walls. A hoa.r.s.e yet defiant shout broke sharply from the next room. "OORAH!"

Ridgeway spun as a flood of activity rippled across the walls. Computer monitors everywhere flickered to life and data spooled out in volumes too great for the human eye to track. A torrent of clicks and whirrs resonated from within the walls as countless systems initialized. Overhead, a gush of stale air belched from the grated vents near the ceiling. The steady breeze that followed was decidedly warm.

Merlin appeared in the doorway, holding a charred metal box like a trophy. Strands of blackened wire splayed from the component like the shriveled legs of a dried insect. "Friggin phase inverter. I replaced it with one from the--"

A harsh, steel-guitar spang stopped Merlin in mid-sentence. In the midst of the round room, a cube of blue energy shimmered around the steel and gla.s.s table, and the unconscious form of Darcy Lonigan.

CHAPTER 17.

Monster exploded from his chair, shifting from seemingly dead-asleep to full charge in the blink of an eye. Launching himself up the short flight of stairs, he slammed into the radiant pane like a fullback hitting the two-hole on a quick opener.

Ridgeway winced at the sound of impact; Monster might as well have hit a steel bulkhead. With a stunning concussion, the force field bounced him like a rubber ball, catapulting the ma.s.sive figure back across the room. The big man covered nearly two meters before he slammed into the floor with a crash and tumbled down slope into the tangle of debris, arms flailing, eyes ablaze and a vicious snarl deep in his chest.

The whine of high-powered weapons spun up around the room as CARs and exothermic pistols snapped to bear at the ceiling just above the force field. A lone voice broke sharply against the lull.

"Hold it, HOLD IT!"

Ridgeway turned to the sound of the medic's voice. St.i.tch stared at what until now been a bare wall of curved black gla.s.s. The entire surface was alive with text and graphics. Columns of color-coded numbers and symbols washed down the screen at a breakneck pace.

St.i.tch was fixed on a portion of the display but Ridgeway drew nothing from the symmetrical blocks of data. Information slid across the screen in color-coded pairs, descriptors and numerical values in side by side columns. The ones in red rapidly diminished.

"Some kinda sterile field," St.i.tch concluded as he reached out in a palm-down waving motion. "Bacteria's dying off, dust particles--"

With a caustic snap, a blinding bar of light flared to life within the head of the table, shining up through the smooth black gla.s.s. The harsh white plane began to slide down the length of Darcy's body, traveling at a smooth and even pace. As it did, a translucent apparition of a human skeleton resolved in the air above her.

The sweeping obsidian screen exploded with light and color. A huge schematic of Darcy's skeleton splashed across nearly five meters of wall. The ribs flexed almost imperceptibly with the sniper's shallow breathing. Details ranging from breaks to old fracture seams blossomed in magnified call-outs, injuries taking on artificial tints of varied intensity. Color-coded text appeared along the skeletal outlines, matching those in the floating phantom. Linked to each point of injury, data spooled out in rapid bursts.

Cla.s.s 3 Tibial Fracture with disangulation. Cla.s.s 1 stress frac...

Ridgeway was no medic, but he'd seen enough trauma to follow along. He scanned the list, mentally ticking his way through the catalog of injuries when the table emitted a sharp whine. The white bar of light vanished, only to be replaced by a second of crimson hue. In like manner, the red bar of light tracked it's way down the sniper's form. As it did, the ghostly floating bones above her began to sprout web-like strands of blood vessels. The intricate network of veins and arteries materialized along the plane of moving light. Ridgeway could see the faint pulse that fluttered weakly in her neck. Once more, colored auras highlighted every damaged capillary.

"Triage." St.i.tch spoke the single word with a hushed reverence. "Son of a b.i.t.c.h its doing some kind of triage, checking system by system, prioritizing the damage. Look," he pointed out, "the minor bone break is blue, but the torn artery is orange; more life threatening."

The medic groaned aloud when the system shifted to organ level. Angry red spread like an oil slick across Darcy's lungs and abdomen. Points of crimson light shimmered brightly in her gall bladder and throughout one kidney.

Without warning, the machine fell silent. Every screen was jammed with information, every wound weighed and measured. The ghostly form in the air was complete, coursing with a rainbow of colors beneath its translucent skin. It looked to Ridgeway like Darcy's disembodied spirit floated ethereally.

"Right, well sod the light show," Taz muttered contemptuously, "what the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l does all this do to help?"

As if in answer, a new sound erupted from the table, a wet, gurgling noise like a drain backing up.

Maybe four drains, Ridgeway realized as the sound grew louder.

A thick, grey sludge vomited up through the four openings. the mud-like material pooling rapidly across the table's steel corners.

At once, an anomaly caught Ridgeway's eye. The table was pitched at the same slant as the floor but the viscous flow avoided the table's lower edge, moving as if on it's own accord towards the inert form in the table's center.

"What the f.u.c.k?" Taz spat the words that ran through the mind of each Marine.

As more of the material erupted in thick gouts, Ridgeway could see that the sludge was less a liquid than a slurry of metallic sand. The grey ooze sparkled with a prismatic sheen as it crept up across Darcy's skin. His gaze followed the leading edge of the spreading slick. As it pushed forward unevenly, individual grains of sand broke free from the ma.s.s and scuttled ahead on their own.

"Oh s.h.i.t!" Monster snarled, his own recognition matching Ridgeway's. "They're f.u.c.kin' bugs!"

A wave of revulsion pa.s.sed through the Marines as they watched the growing tide of tiny crawling specks swarm rapidly across their fallen comrade. Every curve of Darcy's body began to glisten with a metallic sheen as the four opposing waves closed together. Moving like ravenous army ants, they swept across her torso and poured into the gaping hole in her ribs.

A weak gasp slipped from Darcy's lips.

"Oh no way," Taz hissed, the whine of the CAR renewing. "No f.u.c.kin' way..."

Merlin slapped the barrel down towards the floor. "They're not bugs," he barked, "they're machines, little machines, some kinda nanorobotics." He pointed to the hologram as a single word escaped his lips, hushed and breathless. "Look."

Deep in the cavity of Darcy's chest, the swarm spread out. Tiny specks crawled over and through damaged organs. With growing frequency, pinpoints of ruby light rippled through the sludge, giving Darcy's interior the look of a glowing ember.

Ridgeway was transfixed, his attention darting from the open wound to the hologram. Even at such a tiny scale, the crimson starbursts of laser light were unmistakable.

"Sonofab.i.t.c.h," he muttered, his gaze locked on a spot midway down the shimmering image. The bright red stain on Darcy's kidney had already begun to dim, softening in both hue and intensity. As he watched in stunned silence, the palm-sized slick of light faded down through the color spectrum to a soft blue haze.

The cycle repeated itself throughout Darcy's body. Severed nerve cells reconnected, the flicker of neural messages sparking once more along repaired circuits. The sea of blood within one lung receded as the other lung slowly re-inflated. A shard of b.l.o.o.d.y shrapnel floated up from within the ma.s.s of torn tissue, pushed out through the entrance wound. It clattered to the table surface.

"I do not believe this," Merlin whispered under his breath. The hesitant smile that creased across his face proved the hushed words a lie.

For almost two hours the bugs swarmed through the near-lifeless Marine. More shrapnel was extracted, along with tiny bits of frangible ammunition that had broken apart in Darcy's body. Each sc.r.a.p of bloodstained debris was added to the growing pile on the table surface. As each point of damage was repaired, the imaging system would shift from one systemic level to the next, continually addressing the most pressing threat. One by one they faded away.

The last glimmers of holographic yellow dimmed to a hazy grey. Only a final, lingering wound could be seen on her ribcage. The crimson shimmer between the silver grains was even more visible on the surface. As though watching a movie in reverse, the torn edges methodically drew together, leaving an expanse of raw, fresh skin where a gaping hole had been just hours before.

Ridgeway stared at the silent hologram. It slowly cycled through each system at an even pace, only soft grey cloudiness breaking the translucent crystalline hues that made up most of the ghostly figure. The image of Darcy's heart beat steadily, her lungs rose and fell in the gentle rhythm of sleep.

"Is that for real?" Ridgeway prodded cautiously.

"I can't tell you for sure Major," St.i.tch replied softly, "but it d.a.m.n sure looks that way."

With a soft crackle, the force field unraveled. The Marines inched forward like awestruck kids at Christmas, tentative and filled with antic.i.p.ation.

The sniper's eyelids fluttered softly. Ridgeway gently took her hand, "Hey Darce, you with us?"

Darcy sluggishly opened one eye. The blue orb ticked from one hovering face to the next before it closed. She sighed wearily.

"For crying out loud guys," Darcy mumbled, "you act like you never saw somebody get shot before."

An explosion of cheers and high-fives erupted, exhaustion forgotten in the wake of a genuine miracle. Darcy's face wrinkled in confusion before her old smile tugged tiredly at one corner of her mouth.

"Hey, I'm touched and all, but give it a rest." she motioned them back with a weak, dismissive wave, "It's not like I came back from the dead or anything."

CHAPTER 18.

Four in the morning.

Ridgeway squinted at the blurry digit, a fairly meaningless distinction given their current environment save that a full twenty hours had pa.s.sed since Darcy's resurrection. In that brief time, their situation had steadily improved, if only by a modest degree. Still, the change of pace was welcome.

The now-functional environmental control system had raised the once frigid temperature in Sickbay to a balmy fifty-six degrees. That alone was a huge boost to both comfort and morale. Consistent power remained an elusive goal that hampered the last stages of armor regeneration, but the overall process had gone well. Merlin and Taz were well into the internal repairs, drawing from spare parts when possible and improvising where they could.

Monster had organized a two-on, four-off watch cycle that allowed everyone to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Aside from ravenous hunger, a shortage of ammunition and a brutal stiffness in his entire body, Ridgeway's world felt a h.e.l.l of a lot better.

There is that lingering problem of being buried alive, he mused gravely, but he'd take his wins where he could get them.

Ridgeway rose to his feet, giving his aching legs a chance to steady before he took on the uphill hike to Monster and Merlin. The two knelt studiously on either side of Monster's armor where it lay stretched out on the floor. They looked up in tandem as Ridgeway approached.

"Morning Major," Monster tossed out, adding with stereotypical sergeant bravado, "Great day to be a Marine."

Ridgeway grinned back, mirroring Monster's nonchalance. Morale flows from the top down. Clapping Merlin on the shoulder as he took a knee, Ridgeway spoke with feigned gusto. "Yeah, I figure we've been on vacation long enough, how about we pack our s.h.i.t and go home?"

"h.e.l.l yeah, Major." Merlin replied with an energetic nod.

"'Bout d.a.m.ned time," Monster concurred.

Ridgeway leaned forward and looked at the largest of the armored suits. The badly dented chest plate had almost completely reformed. While the surface still carried a blackened scorch mark, only a minor depression remained. Ridgeway knew that before his eyes, carbon nanotubes slid over one another to fill in the gaps.

Monster himself was another story. A band of syntheskin encircled his ma.s.sive left bicep, a dark bloodstain on the elastic material. Ridgeway shrugged toward the injury and gave Monster a reproachful look.

"Y'know, two minutes on the table would clear that up."

Monster's face wrinkled forcefully. "Bull-s.h.i.t!" he said, emphasizing the syllables. "You can dump my a.s.s in a tank of bugs when I'm dead and gone, but ain't no way in h.e.l.l them little b.a.s.t.a.r.ds gonna crawl inside me while I'm watching, that's for d.a.m.n sure."

Ridgeway's lip curled up in a wicked smile. "Monster", he chided reproachfully, "I've seen you stand up to tanks. Are you telling me that you're afraid of a few little creepy-crawlers?"

A poorly suppressed chuckle burst from Merlin as his face turned up to Ridgeway. "That's pretty good Major, Gunny afraid of a bug." Still laughing, the corporal turned left and ran nose-to-nose into a crocodile smile stretched below a pair of dark eyes that looked back with anything but mirth.

"Funny huh?" the big sergeant prodded, one eyebrow arched dramatically. Then his voice dropped a full octave, the smile belying a simple question that reverberated with menace. "You wanna go first?"

Ridgeway fought the tug of his own grin as the engineer blinked rapidly, all hint of amus.e.m.e.nt evaporating.

"I'm thinking there's a repair job that can't wait," Merlin improvised, "I'm gonna go find it."

"Uh-huh," Monster affirmed, the carnivore's grin glued to his face as he nodded firmly. Merlin scooped up a pack of tools and eased down slope in obvious search of a less hazardous environment.