Read Online The Diving Bundle: Six Diving Universe Novellas by Kristine Kathryn Rusch - Free Book Online Page A

shit, I don’t know.”
    His voice sounds too breathy. I glance at the digital.
    56:24
    Where has the time gone? I thought he was moving quicker than that. I thought I was too.
    But it takes me a while to suit up, and I talked to Squishy, and everything is fucked up.
    What’ll they say when we get back? The mission’s already filled with superstitions and fears of weird technology that none of us really understand.
    And only me and Jypé are obsessed with this thing.
    Me and Jypé.
    Probably just me now.
    “I left him some oxygen. I dunno if it’s enough…”
    So breathy. Has Jypé left all his extra? What’s happening to Junior? If he’s unconscious, he won’t use as much, and if his suit is fucked, then he won’t need any.
    “Coming through the hatch…”
    I see Jypé, a tiny shape on top of the wreck. And he’s moving slowly, much too slowly for a man trying to save his own life.
    My rules are clear: let him make his own way back.
    But I’ve never been able to watch someone else die.
    I send to the Business : “Jypé’s out. I’m heading down the line.”
    I don’t use the word help on purpose, but anyone listening knows what I’m doing. They’ll probably never listen to me again, but what the hell.
    I don’t want to lose two on my watch.
     
    ***
     
    When I reach him six minutes later, he’s pulling himself along the guideline, hand over hand, so slowly that he barely seems human. A red light flashes at the base of his helmet—the out of oxygen light, dammit. He did use all of his extra for his son.
    I grab one small container, hook it to the side of his suit, press the “on” only halfway, knowing too much is as bad as too little.
    His look isn’t grateful: it’s startled. He’s so far gone, he hasn’t even realized that I’m here.
    I brought a grappler as well, a technology I always said was more dangerous than helpful, and here’s the first test of my theory. I wrap Jypé against me, tell him to relax, I got him, and we’ll be just fine.
    He doesn’t. Even though I pry him from the line, his hands still move, one over the other, trying to pull himself forward.
    Instead, I yank us toward the skip, moving as fast as I’ve ever moved. I’m burning oxygen at three times my usual rate according to my suit and I don’t really care. I want him inside, I want him safe, I want him alive , goddammit.
    I pull open the door to the skip. I unhook him in the airlock, and he falls to the floor like an empty suit. I make sure the back door is sealed, open the main door, and drag Jypé inside.
    His skin is a grayish blue. Capillaries have burst in his eyes. I wonder what else has burst, what else has gone wrong.
    There’s blood around his mouth.
    I yank off the helmet, his suit protesting my every move.
    “I gotta tell you,” he says. “I gotta tell you.”
    I nod. I’m doing triage, just like I’ve been taught, just like I’ve done half a dozen times before.
    “Set up something,” he says. “Record.”
    So I do, mostly to shut him up. I don’t want him wasting more energy. I’m wasting enough for both of us, trying to save him, and cursing Squishy for not getting here, cursing everyone for leaving me on the skip, alone, with a man who can’t live, and somehow has to.
    “He’s in the cockpit,” Jypé says.
    I nod. He’s talking about Junior, but I really don’t want to hear it. Junior is the least of my worries.
    “Wedged under some cabinet. Looks like—battlefield in there.”
    That catches me. Battlefield how? Because there are bodies? Or because it’s a mess?
    I don’t ask. I want him to wait, to save his strength, to survive .
    “You gotta get him out. He’s only got an hour’s worth, maybe less. Get him out.”
    Wedged beneath something, stuck against a wall, trapped in the belly of the wreck. Yeah, like I’ll get him out. Like it’s worth it.
    All those sharp edges.
    If his suit’s not punctured now, it would be by the time I’m done getting the stuff off him.