Chapter 12

The base hospital was clean, bright, and sterile; if it wasn’t gleaming metal, it was covered with white paint. The air smelled cool and refreshing without that medicinal tang that Corey half expected. Clutching the small stuffed toy she had brought, she crossed the waiting room to the counter and the medtech responsible for this ward.

“I’m Squadron Lead Corey Andersen,” she said, presenting her ID. “I called an hour ago. I’m here to see Svetlana Federova. Which room is she in?”

The young woman pointed down the brightly lit hall to Corey’s right. “It’s down that way,” she said. “Now, I want to prepare you for what you’re going to see,” she continued as she led Corey to the room. “Svetlana is not going to look the same as she did when you last saw her.”

“I know.”

“She caught a lot of radiation, and we have a number of health issues we’re working on.”

“She’s going to die, isn’t she?” Corey asked in a whisper.

The medtech hesitated. “She’s not getting any better,” she said at last. “The prognosis is not entirely favorable, but we’re still working with her. The important thing is to encourage her. At times like this, a patient is her own worst enemy. If she’s convinced she’s going to die, then she will, and there’s nothing we could do to stop it. I’ve seen it happen too many times.”

The medtech stopped outside the room and faced Corey. “I’ve seen it work the other way, too. If she wants to live, it helps everything we try.” She gave Corey an encouraging smile. “Someone to see you,” she called into the room as she knocked on the door.

“Send them in,” said a querulous voice. It sounded like Svetlana, but it was older and tired.

“Hi, kid,” Corey said, sticking her head around the door.

The gaunt skeleton with yellowish skin pulled tight across her face was a caricature of Corey’s Second. But the eyes were the same. “Hi, yourself,” Svetlana croaked from the bed. “C’mon in and have a seat.”

The medtech checked the monitors before smiling at both of them and leaving. Corey settled on the front edge of the only chair. “How are you doing?” she asked. The figure under the covers was too thin.

Svetlana’s eyes hardened. “They’ve taken another of Morosini’s children,” she said. “I’m not dead yet, but it won’t be long now.”

“That’s not what I’m hearing.”

“Then what you’re hearing is nonsense, and I don’t care what the doctors say. I’ve seen enough death to know when it’s coming for me.”

Corey suddenly felt small and helpless. The stuffed doll Heather had found for her, a silly little bear with a white scarf and wearing the ancient leather helmet and goggles from a time when flight was new, suddenly seemed like a useless thing. She had hoped it would cheer her Second up, but now ... now it seemed so pathetic.

“I don’t know what to say, Svetya. I thought ... what happened? They didn’t tell me.”

“Too much radiation,” Svetlana said. “I was too close to a kin-stealer when it blew. It didn’t kill me outright, but it’s only a matter of time. I’ve got more life support under this bed than I did in my fighter.” She turned her head slightly, looking out the window. “At least I’ll die when the flowers are blooming.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Corey said. “Others have beaten radiation sickness, you can, too.”

“I hate to disagree with my boss, but this isn’t a sickness. I was just unlucky, that’s all.”

“I--I brought you this,” Corey said, holding up the doll. It was a little stuffed bear wearing a leather helmet and a long white scarf, a throwback to the days when flying was a great adventure. “ ... I...” She choked, overwhelmed by emotion. This was her Second lying here, her alter ego, someone as close to her as her sibs.

“You’ve got to get better, Svetya,” she whispered, clutching the doll tightly. The medtech said to give her a reason to live. “You haven’t killed enough of them yet.”

“You’re a good lead,” Svetlana said. Her face turned slowly toward Corey. “You’re crazy in combat, but you get results and you don’t waste people. But I made a mistake. I let my anger get me too close. I’ve killed all the Idenux I’m going to kill. Now it’s up to you to kill them for me.”

Corey fought back the tears. She wanted to shake her friend, scream at her, and get through to her somehow that she had to get better. But she couldn’t. Svetlana was like an extension of her. They’d meshed the first moment they’d flown together. She was as much a part of Corey, but in a different way, as Heather and Sonia. And she was giving up. She was quitting.

Svetlana’s hand jerked in what could have been a wave. “It’s nice you came by, Corey. Say hello to the gang for me when you see them. Tell them I’m counting on them now.”

Corey shook her head, speechless. She crossed to the bed without knowing how. Bending over, she kissed Svetlana’s too-dry cheek, put the doll in her hand, and then stumbled out of the room. The medtech was waiting just outside Svetlana’s door. Silently, she folded Corey in her arms and led her down the hall.

The figure waiting in the nearby alcove watched them pass. She was no stranger to these halls. She knew the stoic medical technician who had seen far too much death. She knew of the weeping Squadron Lead, the girl with the golden touch in combat. She waited patiently until they had turned the corner, then she slipped across the hall to Svetlana’s room.

Svetlana turned her head, her eyes widening slightly as she recognized the figure standing in her doorway. “All my old friends have come to say good-bye,” she whispered. “Or are you something the drugs are showing me?”

“No,” Julie van Fleet said. “I’m real. I’m not here to say good-bye. I’ve come to make you an offer.”

“Make it quick, I’m not going to be around much longer.” Svetlana closed the hand with the doll in it, trying to move it to the little table beside her bed. She succeeded in moving her arm a few centimeters before her grip relaxed, and she dropped the doll on the floor. She turned her head in that direction but could move no further. Tears of frustration flowed down her cheeks.

“That’s your choice,” Julie said quietly. She reached down and picked up the doll. Something about it caught her attention. She looked at it for a moment, catching the implied romanticism of a time dead and buried more than a thousand years, but an image every pilot still carried in her heart. She very carefully placed the doll on the table where Svetlana could see it. Then she took a slim binder out of her shoulder bag and propped it up on the bed where Svetlana had to look at it. “I’m here to tell you about a project I call Morosini’s Children.”

“It’s a fantastic project, Julie. I loved your presentation. Now try it on someone who can implement it.”

“That’s why I’m showing this to you.” She locked eyes with Svetlana. Finally, Svetlana dropped her gaze.

“You’ll have to turn the pages,” Svetlana said. “I haven’t had the strength to turn the pages since I woke up here.”

“That’s okay,” Julie said. She opened the binder to the first page, the technical specifications of the new ship. “This is what I’m offering you.”

Svetlana barely glanced at it. “It’s too late for me,” she said. “Putting me in a fighter would be a waste of a perfectly good crate.”

Julie gave a short, nasty laugh. “This is to fighters what Jellicoe and her sister ships are to an escort, and the part I’m interested in isn’t dying.” Svetlana’s shocked gaze locked with hers. “You ... you can’t. They won’t let you remove a human brain and--”

Julie’s gaze never wavered. “Times change, Svetya, and attitudes change. I’ve already done it five times. Two of them are from our old gang on Morosini. I have 31 hulls left to crew. One of them will be mine. One of them can be yours.”

Svetlana’s head twitched. “It can’t be done. They can’t get that much life support in a fighter.”

“We’ve made some advances,” Julie said. “Basically, we remove everything except your brain and shunt. And you become the ship even more than you ever were a fighter.”

Svetlana’s eyes dropped to the technical specs. “Tempting, but what are the odds I’d live through the operation?”