Chapter 27: Death Grip — Part 7

“I’m done. How do you feel?” Devon hovered next to him.

“I feel fine.” He said loud enough for people in the other room to hear, and then added in a whisper, “I feel like I’m going to wretch. But if my crew is reminded that I’m a scientist, and not a military diplomat, I might lose their respect.”

“I think your crew would follow you naked into Grison’s living room.” Devon set him onto the hover cot.

The medical drone strapped him down, speaking quietly. “Please remain calm and try not to move. I will take you to your quarters and put you to bed. Stay in bed until we reach Vodia, please, where you will receive further medical treatment.”

“Why are we going to Vodia, and not Antans. I’ve strong information that Antans is the technological stronghold for the Coalition.”

When Devon remained silent, and began leading him down the linkage between ships, the Baron assumed that he had asked the wrong question. Devon smiled and patted him gently on the top of his right shoulder, one of the only places on his body that wasn’t gashed, bruised, or burned. In actuality, the delay was because he was in telepathic contact with several people at once. The Baron let out a quiet sigh, wondering inwardly if he had blundered everything with his incessant curiosity and penchant to ask questions at the most inopportune time.

We’ve got three dead. We left the two most severely injured for you to deal with. All five mentioned are in stasis. Kris sent thought to Devon.

Why didn’t you treat them immediately? Devon asked curiously.

We aren’t the ones with advanced medical training. We’re foot soldiers in this vicious game called war. Jerem explained.

Devon frowned, regained his composure, and walked over to the two separated crewmembers. A man lay unconscious, a tach-stasis field having stopped all his vitals. Stasis was a temporary solution to shock. Unlike cryostasis, it couldn’t be used for more than few hours, but it could be used more safely on an injured person. In stasis, the human body was frozen at the metabolic level. The man before him had been stopped at a point of incredible suffering, his face expressing rending emotions. The man in stasis was also one of the largest men Devon had ever met. Shrapnel had been blown between his legs, and had emasculated him and gouged out a good portion of his pelvis as well.

His crotch was little more than a gaping hole. Next to him was what little remained of his masculinity, a testicle, properly stored, and a good portion of his penis. Still, it was not enough to salvage by surgical means, and certainly not enough to work with on the ship. Nearby, in another stasis field, a smaller woman, her body badly crushed, would probably never walk again, if she survived at all. Rather than worry about her, whom he couldn’t immediately help, Devon decided to deal with the castrated man first. Devon disabled the man’s tach-stasis field. The man locked eyes with Devon, putting his beefy hand on Devon’s fingertips.

“Kill me now.” He said weakly.

“Whyever for?” Devon asked.

“I don’t want to be like this, castrated like a gelding.” The man admitted.

“We saved a testicle. Even if we couldn’t restore your body, you could still have children.” Devon paused.

“Okay, don’t kill me then, just tell me I won’t want to have sex after awhile.”

“You know, there is a chance we could restore your genitals, and your fertility, given the circumstances.” Devon tried not to smile, studying the frozen contents of the bottle as he spoke. “We have the original tissue here, we should be able to clone it and replace it, giving you pretty much the same function as you had previously. If that fails, you have the same option as your friend with the broken back — symbiotic exposure will repair the damage readily enough.”

The man’s eyes brightened. “You wouldn’t lie to a dead man, would you?”

“Of course not.” Devon said.

“Since you’re cloning it, maybe you could improve on it a little?” He asked.

Devon pretended to be perturbed. “The man gets a miracle of science and biology, and then wants two. Please, be happy with what you might someday have. You’ll be asleep for awhile, so try not to fall back into stasis worried, okay?”

The man, his skin as brown as raw sugar, smiled and closed his eyes, and the tach-stasis field stole his consciousness one more time. Devon fine tuned the field, and readied the man for transition to a cryochamber for long-term storage. After installing a bladder bag and sterilizing the wound, Devon focused his attentions on the girl. She was young, and her back reduced to a mass of crushed tissue and bone. He brought her back to consciousness, noting her fever, and the condition of her body, above and below the crush point. She moaned in pain, but could not move or say much, immediately. Hers was the worst damage he had ever seen in a person still breathing.

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