Assessing Survival Read online

  “Did they find out who planted the bomb?”

  “They did. It was the War Opposition Front—those idiots who wanted to hand over Earth and beg for mercy from the Splice. They didn’t know that mercy would never be coming from that front.”

  “What has happened?”

  “We sealed the Earth. A defense net of weaponized satellites was launched three months ago. It has repelled one Splice attack, but now, they are gathering in numbers. It won’t be long before they crack through.” He grimaced.

  “What is being done about it?”

  Captain Blue shrugged. “Whatever we can do. We are trying to cut them off.”

  Stitch nodded. “Great. When can I get out of bed?”

  “As soon as you are ready. Sit with your legs over the side and slowly get up. If you feel weak, fall back. The bed is designed to hold fully tricked-out cyborgs. You won’t even make it tremble.”

  He stayed near her while she moved her heavy legs to hang over the edge. It was difficult, but once her body knew what she wanted, it cooperated. She waited until she could swing her legs to her heartbeat, and when she was ready, she stood.

  Her balance was off. They hadn’t installed a counterweight along her left arm. Stitch twisted and slowly bent. When she straightened, she looked at Captain Blue. “Okay, where can I get some clothes?”

  He stopped staring at her naked body and blinked. “Uh, in your quarters? We don’t have a lot of call for clothing in your size.”

  “Find me a t-shirt, perv. I am not here to entertain you.”

  “I had to assess the connections.”

  “Yes, and now that is done and there is no medical reason to keep me in here anymore, I am not going to sprint through the halls like this.”

  The captain inclined his head and left her to get her a t-shirt.

  Well, that is where Stitch hoped he was going. He could be leaving her on her own.

  She flicked the screen out and went looking for her friends. Lucky, Lacey, Windy, Cracker and Alphy were all reported as on active medical leave. Their locations were not listed, but they were alive.

  Stitch nodded and noted something amusing. Her rank was now that of major. She outranked the good captain, and he was hoping she didn’t know it.

  After their procedures, all cyborgs were promoted to sergeant or higher. Her rank must not have sunk in yet.

  She checked on the investigation of the bombing, and the WOF had indeed claimed responsibility. Several members had been prosecuted, but it didn’t answer the question that Stitch had. How had they gotten the bomb onto the station? Who had hated the girls enough to try and kill most of them in one shot?

  She walked slowly down the hall with a man named Sergeant Trent escorting her. Half his face had been replaced with metal, and he had the easy gait of a long-time cyborg.

  After five minutes of pacing silently, he said, “So, you are one of the survivors?”

  “More or less. A dozen good women, skilled women, died that day. Part of me died with them.” She was grim about it, but it was true. She hadn’t had time to grieve, but it was coming.

  “Your arm?” Trent gestured to the silver melded with her skin.

  “My soul. I don’t know where my friends are or what kind of shape they are in. It has been two years for the world, but for me, it was just a few hours ago.”

  “You have been out that whole time?”

  “I have. I desperately need to brush my teeth, get dressed and find something to eat.”

  “I will wait outside your door and take you to the commissary when you are ready.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant.”

  “Call me George. You held my hand while we waited for me to be prepped for surgery. You even cried a little when I told you I was scared.”

  She had only cried for one patient. Her first. She turned to face him and looked into his human eye. “Oh my god. It is you.”

  She reached up and stroked the scar over his eyebrow and followed it as it curled down to the corner of his eye.

  He chuckled. “I remember that touch. You fought for me to keep the eye, and for that, I thank you. The Splice might be able to fool sensors, but they can’t fool human sight.”

  It had been her first fight with the doctors. They had wanted to put in a full ocular prosthetic set and call it a day. She had argued to keep whatever they could. His skin had been torn, but the nanites had sealed it. It was cosmetic damage.

  She smiled. “I am glad that I helped them to the right decision.”

  “As am I. Your quarters are this way, Major Carter.”

  She chuckled. “Call me Stitch. Everyone does.”

  They started moving down the corridor again. “You are Stitch? Seriously? I never put that together with the woman I met during my stay at the station.”

  “Put what together?”

  “The guys who come from the station all have a crush on the woman named Stitch who stayed at their bedsides and fought to keep them as whole as was possible. That goes a long way with these guys. Many have family back home, and going back as a cyborg will be hard enough. The more of them that can stay human, the better.”

  “That was the theory I was operating under. We tried to give them the best mods with the most useful applications and enough to make them feel as normal as possible.”

  He nodded. “I know. How are you enjoying being on the other side of the process?”

  “I wish I had had a Stitch of my own working with the team. I need a counterweight on my left side to balance the metal hand and forearm.”

  “They will be able to manage that here. Alpha Base is fairly well equipped for repairs.”

  She grimaced. “I want my team back. I don’t know what my role is going to be here, but I know I want my team.”

  “You are going to have to make a new team. Yours is scattered across the system.”

  They were in the living quarters now and catching quite a few amazed glances. The guys might have known she was coming, but seeing her was a separate matter.

  “These are your quarters. Alpha Base doesn’t have separate rooms for females, so you are stuck with the guys. Don’t worry. We all respect the role you are going to play at the base, Major Carter. I mean, Stitch.”

  “Yeah, I have been on bases before. Let’s see how long that lasts.” She had no illusions about what could happen if she let her guard down.

  She looked for a way to open the door. “How does this work?”

  “Oh, there is a bio scan. Step right up to the door.”

  Right, of course. There would be no way for half of the population to use a palm scanner, and even less could manage an ocular scan. Even breath was out of the question. Having the scanner compare them to their med files was the fastest way.

  Her door hissed open, and it was like being back on the adaptation station. Her room was exactly as she left it. Her terminal was a little more advanced but in the same place. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make this feel like home.

  “I will be out here when you are ready to get your meal.” George nodded and turned his back to the closing door.

  She found her private bathroom and pulled off the black t-shirt. Her shower was quick, but she felt better after it.

  A series of uniforms had been added to her wardrobe. She supposed that she should put one on.

  Her lingerie drawer had only been manhandled a little, and she put on her bra and panties before sliding on the black cargo pants, tank top and button-down shirt. The boots were a little clunky but nothing compared to the battle gear that the guys had to put on.

  She straightened, brushed her hair and scrubbed her teeth.

  Stitch fastened her hair back in a bun and headed to the door. Time to get started; she had slept long enough.

  Chapter Three

  The food at the base was just like the food at the station, but instead of the view of the stars, there was a huge planet looming above them.


  Stitch could almost feel the pull of Jupiter and its hypnotic spot.

  George sat across from her, and they ate their meals off stamped, metal trays.

  Stitch’s meal had appeared after she let the scanner check her identity. That was when she knew that there was a chip of some sort in the new hand.

  “The scanners will only give you what your body can handle. You are lucky. You seem to be on a standard diet.”

  Stitch eyed the contents of her tray. “If you call this luck.”

  She ate a few bites of what appeared to be stew that had already been chewed by someone. It didn’t taste too bad, so she dove in with a little more enthusiasm. It was something she was willing to get used to. There wasn’t really a choice.

  Stitch made a list of things she needed to get done to her own body. As long as she was focused on something, the images of the party didn’t rear up in her mind.

  George was quiet while she ate, and when she got to her feet with her tray, he simply directed her down a hallway.

  “We just had an incoming ship when you woke up. If you are feeling up to it, would you take on your duties?”

  “Sure. As long as I can put in an order for my counterweight while I am there.”

  “Of course.” He nodded.

  “You have no clue, do you?”

  George chuckled. “You still have skills at reading people, so that is good.”

  Stitch sighed and listened to the hollow thud of her boots on the deck plates. She could smell the recycled air, the metal everywhere and the unmistakable scent of men in every direction.

  When she smelled blood, she knew they were close to the med centre.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out her com unit. She checked that she had scanning authorization so that she didn’t get stuck with her foot in her mouth. Trying to scan a bleeding man without being able to check his file was a waste of time and possibly life.

  George opened the door to the med bay for her, and she straightened her shoulders and walked inside.

  Six men were on the med beds, and the first attending physician looked at her with a scowl. “Who are you?”

  “Major Carter, Assessment Officer. May I be of assistance?”

  The doctor frowned, but one of the men leaned up on one elbow, the other arm was missing. “It’s Stitch!”

  Suddenly, she had the attention of every conscious man in the room. She waved. “Hi.”

  Those that could waved back.

  “We have a virgin in the back corner. Tell me what you would recommend.” The doctor seemed to accept the recognition as her credentials.

  Stitch headed to the corner where a man was lying and shaking with panic. “Hey, soldier. My name is Stitch, and I am going to be checking your options.”

  She stroked his forehead, and his eyes fluttered closed before they opened and pierced her with a panicked gaze. “Is it bad?”

  “It isn’t the worst I have seen.” She stroked his cheek softly.

  She flicked open her scanner and ran the vid system down until she had seen all of the deep tissue scans that had been run on him.

  She kept one hand on his face and ordered a nanite booster for him as well as several rounds of weaponry and high-stress legs that would enable him to move easily and leap twenty feet.

  “I am going to check on the structure supplies and make sure that everything will work together.”

  He looked at her with wide eyes. “Don’t leave me.”

  “I won’t. I will do it all from here. I just have to stop touching you for a moment. You will still be able to see me.”

  He nodded. “Well, I guess I won’t be a virgin much longer.”

  Stitch chuckled. “Nope. We all have to lose it sometime.”

  Everything she needed was in stock.

  The doctor came over when she nodded, and she held out the order.

  “Does he need that power pack?”

  “To keep the legs functioning and using the boost option, yes.”

  He blinked. “You actually are that Stitch.”

  “Yes. Now, since he needs the nanite booster, you might want to get on that.”

  The physician grinned and left her alone. A med assistant came over with the booster and gave it to the young man who had lost both legs and one arm. The other was shattered. She stroked his cheek over and over until the sedatives took over. He didn’t need to be alone right then.

  Keenan Lukai was her focus until the team came to take him away.

  She walked to the side of one of the cyborgs who had suffered a crushing injury. He patted the side of his bed, and she hopped up. “So, lazy. What are you in for?”

  He laughed, and so did the man in the next bed.

  Stitch spent the next few hours chatting with, flirting with and generally cheerfully tormenting all the men waiting to go into surgery or for replacement installation. When the damage warranted it, she upgraded their implants.

  Finally, they were all out of the triage area and she could breathe.

  George came in, and he smirked. “The ones out of surgery are requesting your attention, Stitch.”

  She nodded. “Right. Of course.” She brushed at the front of her trousers, straightened her shirt.

  This was what she did. She was the advocate for the wounded, trying to do what was best for them.

  Keenan was still in surgery, but the others were out and getting their software upgrades.

  There was a man in a bloodstained uniform speaking with one of the patients. Something was familiar about him.

  She shrugged and went to check on the sergeant who was learning how to move his new hand.

  “How is that going for you?”

  He looked at it. “It feels different.”

  “It should. It has a blade extension that runs up the back of your wrist. It will come on line when you have mastered feeding yourself.”

  One of the other guys called out, “He will settle for being able to jerk off without ripping his dick off.”

  Stitch kept her expression bland. “It will be a good control test.”

  It was a little odd to see the men after their implants were attached. The nanites were building seamless silver skin over the structures, and the men were rapidly becoming battle ready.

  As she made the rounds to check on them, they all started to show signs of increased mobility. Feet flexed, hands flexed and their chests shuddered as their new organs kicked into play. The medical staff uncoupled them as the implants took their place in their bodies.

  Stitch wondered what had taken place in her own system. Waking up with the implants functioning meant that they had had time to grow into her system. The hand felt like hers. It was even warm to the touch.

  One of the men reached up with his silver right hand. She clasped it with her own.

  His grin was one of pure joy. “It’s a great fit.”

  “It is. I will send a letter of admiration to the manufacturer. Maybe I can get a long-distance thing going.” She winked.

  The other men laughed and jeered at the man still holding her hand. He flexed and pulled her toward him, so she responded with careful pressure.

  His expression was shocked as she pulled him up and out of the bed. He was hanging from her grip, and the hoots from the other patients drew the angry eye of the medics.

  “Major Carter, please put him down.”

  Stitch relaxed her arm, pulled away, and he settled back into the med bed.

  “Why are you pestering the medic, Danforth?”

  The voice was a new one. Stitch turned and looked at the brunette man wearing a skintight, sleeveless top and bloodstained black pants tucked into combat boots. The amazing thing was the colour that was riding the cybernetic arm. She had never seen designs on the silverwork before.

  To her astonishment, the men in recovery snapped to a sort-of attention while lying down.

  Danforth cleared his throat. “This i
sn’t a medic, Captain. This is Stitch.”

  His features were sharp and reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t quite place it.

  The man walked right up to her and glared down at her with deep-brown eyes. She stared up at him, and he growled, “What will you give me if I go through with this?”

  Recognition flared in her. “I will let you watch me eat a hot dog. Slowly.”

  He barked a laugh and hugged her. Stitch squeaked as he lifted her off her feet.

  She patted the metal of his shoulders. “Nice to see you again, Nikolai.”

  He looked at her and confusion came to his features. “Why are you here?”

  “The explosion. All cyborgs must be shipped to the front lines as soon as they are mobile.” She tapped him with her silver hand.

  He set her carefully on her feet. “The base that blew? That was two years ago.”

  She smiled up at him. “Did all the beauty sleep work?”

  Six men burst into applause. More hooting ensued.

  He realized he was holding her, and he stepped back. “You look fine. Good. Lovely.”

  Danforth chuckled. “Maybe you should get your tongue replaced, Captain. You seem to have hit a stumbling block.”

  The others chuckled.

  Nikolai glanced away from her, and he was seeking someone. “Danforth, where is he?”

  Stitch tapped his chest. “If you are talking about Keenan Lukai, he is in surgery, but let me check on it.”

  Nikolai was suddenly tense. “Is there a problem?”

  “Let me find out.”

  She eased away from him and headed for the operating theatre. The door was sealed, but she was able to check the vid of the surgery. It was way outside of her paygrade, but she saw the surgeries and implants of the skeletal frameworks that would soon be his silver limbs.

  The surgical team moved smoothly, and when Stitch had cut off the vid display, they came out with Keenan on the gurney, moving him to the recovery unit. The skeletal bases of his legs and his arm were visible, but the extra nanites were already moving through his system and grafting skin over the metalwork.

  Three days and he would be up and running again.