The gruff good humor of it—my friends died, and I got injuries I may never heal from, ain’t that a laugh?—hid a symphony of mourning and grief, but she could hear it. That wasn’t new. She could feel it with him, and that part was.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Tanaka said. She felt pins and needles shoot through her arms and legs. She tested clenching her fists. She felt weak as a baby, but her fingers moved when she told them to. That was a good start.
“Yeah,” Gravel Man said.
I’m sorry for your loss was just the bullshit you say to someone you’ve just met when they tell you their sad story. Gravel Man knew it. Tanaka knew it too.
“I lost my brother,” she said, her voice thick with an overwhelming grief. She didn’t have a brother.
“Bomb?”
“Climbing accident,” she said. She saw his face, the image of him twisted at the cliff bottom. The rope looped around him like a snake. The vast sorrow that came with the image threatened to wash her away.
What is happening to me? she asked the voice in her head. Stop lying to this guy. But she wasn’t lying. The only answer was a sob that shook her chest.
“Hey,” Gravel Man said, “it’s okay. They’re putting me back together all right. I mean, yeah, sucks about Rick and Jelena not making it, but that’s the job, right?”
I’m not crying for you, Tanaka wanted to tell him, but part of her was. Part of her was remembering the brother who fell down the cliff, remembering the way his limbs twisted around the rocks at the bottom, his empty vacant eyes. And that part was sobbing for Jello and Ricky and the people they left behind when a bomb snatched them out of the world. But most of her was just scared. What is happening to me?
“Hey, I’m Chief Byrd,” Gravel Man said. “Lias Byrd. You are?”
I don’t know.
Before Tanaka could answer, the door opened and Gagnon walked in furiously tapping at a terminal in his hand. When he saw that she was awake, he slapped the terminal against his arm and it curled around him.
“Glad to see you alert, Colonel,” Gagnon said.
“Shit, sorry for talking your ear off, Colonel,” Byrd said. Tanaka could hear in his voice the way the revelation of her rank instantly changed the nature of their relationship. She felt an unfamiliar pang of regret.
Gagnon ignored Byrd entirely and began checking over Tanaka’s vitals on the wall screen above her bed.
“Hey, Chief,” Tanaka said.
“Aye, Colonel?”
“You hang in there, sailor. We’ll both be walking out of this place. I’m just going first.”
“Copy that, sir.”
Gagnon looked down at the terminal wrapped around his wrist for a moment, then patted Tanaka on the hand. “Everything looks good. You get some rest now, and we’ll get you discharged tomorrow. We’ll want to schedule some follow-up in the next—”
“What about Chief Byrd?” Tanaka said.
“Who?” Gagnon looked baffled.
“Chief Byrd. He’s in the next bed. How’s he doing?”
Gagnon shot a look at Byrd’s bed, barely registering it. “Oh, I see. I’m afraid he’s not my patient.” He went back to tapping on his wrist terminal.
When it happened, it happened without conscious thought. Like running a preprogrammed sequence in her power armor. Suddenly her limbs just snapped into action and she was merely along for the ride. One moment she was looking up at Gagnon tapping on his wrist.
Blink.
She was on top of Gagnon on her bed, her knees on his shoulders, his bloody and terrified face looking up at her as she slammed her fist into it again.
“Did I ask if he was your fucking patient!” she heard herself yelling as she drove her left fist into his eye, the IV tube torn out and blood flying off it as she swung. “Did I fucking ask if he was your patient!”
Her blood was singing in her veins. She felt wide and tall and alive in a way that violence often gave her. And then, like a pail of cold water thrown in her face, she was wide awake and very afraid. She climbed off the bed and stepped back. Gagnon slid off and to the ground, making soft, pained animal sounds.
“Colonel?”
Her gaze cut over to Byrd. Now that she was standing, she could see his face. His pale blue eyes were wide. She pointed at him.
“I’m going to make sure they take care of you,” she said. But in the privacy of her mind, the small, still part of her that watched all the rest was thinking: I am fucked.
“Th-thanks,” Byrd said. “I’ll be okay, Colonel. I’m all right.”