37
“How does that feel?” Daryll asked.
Rev rotated his arm, then swung it across his body a few times. “Better,” he grudgingly admitted.
He hadn’t been too sure about the new sleeve, given that there still wasn’t a full-service Class 1 hospital on the planet. But Daryll had assured him that with his autodoc, they could take off the old sleeve and put on the new one using the same connectors. “Just like changing an impeller on a hover,” he’d said.
The old sleeve was more innocuous. If he was wearing a shirt, it might pass unnoticed. The new sleeve was bulkier, and it was far more noticeable. That didn’t matter, though, if it worked better. And while moving it still irritated his chest and back, it felt more solid, and the pain in his shoulder was almost an afterthought.
He raised his arm straight over his head, then immediately snapped it down. “That still hurts.”
“You still have lots of inflammation that’s built up over the last months. It’ll take time for it to recede, even with the anti-inflammatories. If we can take you to Wooster Station, we can get that cleaned up for you to speed up the process, but they turned down my request.”
Rev hadn’t even known that Daryll had asked or that going off-planet was even a possibility.
“Your readings are good. So, control shouldn’t be affected. I think this is going to work.”
Rev rotated his arm again, making sure not to fully extend it. It was better, no doubt about it. Maybe he was on his way back to normal.
“And that brings us to this,” Daryll said, getting up and moving over to one of his tables. He picked up what looked like some sort of light armor, a type Rev hadn’t seen before. It didn’t look robust enough to give much protection, but with all the war research, maybe it was something new.
He held it in front of him as he carried it back to Rev.
“And that is . . . ?”
“This is the harness support I told you about. I just got the programming last night.” He gave it a little shake.
From close up, it looked like a lumpy, black t-shirt, not like anything Rev thought would give him support.
“Let’s give it a shot and see how it feels.”
With more than a little misgiving, Rev let Daryll help him slip it on. It was heavier than he expected, and it firmly hugged him.
“Wait while I turn it on.” Daryll reached for the right side of the shirt and thumbed a small, recessed switch, flipping it to the down position, clicking it closed.
“Woah,” Rev said as it felt like it was tightening around him.
“That’s the anchor points you feel. The support is using a magnetic field to position them and help hold them in place. Let me scan you to make sure that’s happening.”
Daryll positioned Rev in the scanner’s field and turned it on. He studied the readouts for a moment, then smiled. “Just as they’re supposed to be working,” he said, sounding pretty satisfied with himself.
“So, this thing’s going to help me?” Rev asked as he tentatively moved his arms. The shirt was hugging him, but it didn’t seem to affect his mobility much.
“That’s the plan. The nodes will help keep your anchors in place, and these straps here,” he said, running a finger across a few of the bands that were embedded into the fabric, “should spread-load some of the support. Now, let’s hook you up to Pashu and see if it really does the trick.”
Rev turned to where Pashu was hanging in the corner of the room. He hadn’t had her on for several weeks, and he was suddenly anxious to find out as well. He twisted and removed his social arm as Daryll retrieved Pashu and wheeled her up.
With sure movements, Daryll slipped Pashu into Rev’s new sleeve, then ran the checks. “All green. I’m removing the hoist.”
Rev gritted his teeth as the hoist released, and he took on Pashu’s full weight. To his surprise, it was better. Much better. He stood and made some tentative movements. It wasn’t perfect. There was still pulling across his chest and back, and his shoulder ached, but it was a lot, lot better. And for the first time in too long, Rev felt the power that he now controlled.
This is why I love this, he thought, drawing down on an imaginary Centaur.
He gave a little lurch, and the jerk awoke more pain, but it wasn’t much at all. “I think this can work.”
Daryll gave a sigh of relief, and Rev realized that Daryll had been just as much trying to find a solution as he was. The tech hadn’t designed the IBHU, but there was still that pride of being part of a revolutionary project.
“There’s a feedback loop in the harness, so if you take it off, I can either make adjustments to tighten up the tolerances or print a new one based on the numbers.”
“Can I just keep this one for a bit, first? I want to walk around, maybe do a little juking and such to see how it holds up.”
“Yeah, sure. Of course. But I want to see you back here so I can check out the numbers.”
“Give me an hour or so.”
“You’ve got it.”
Rev wheeled about as if being surprised from behind by a paladin, and in doing so, he knocked his social arm off the tray. It bounced on the floor before Rev could grab it.
“Maybe you’d better do all of that outside where you’ve got some room?”
“Right. Sorry,” Rev said with a chagrined smile. “I’ll be back.”
He took two steps when the base siren sounded. Before it even registered, Rev was moving, bursting through the door, eyes craning to search the sky.
Not again!
His heart was in his throat as he searched, but the skies were unnaturally clear. That didn’t mean much. The Centaurs could still be coming in.
He wasn’t going to do any good here, so he broke into a run. Others were moving as well, mostly Marines with a sense of purpose. A group of five civilian construction workers tried to stop him, panic in their voices as they asked him what was going on, but Rev kept running.
By the time he pulled up in front of their bivvie, most of the Raiders and recon were there, standing in front and waiting for orders. Their weapons had been pulled from the racks, and all eyes were focused up.
“Do we know what’s happening?” he asked Tomiko.
“Not yet. The master guns is trying to find out.”
But it wasn’t Master Gunnery Sergeant Tuala who returned with the news. Lieutenant St. Mary, the recon platoon commander, came sprinting back first.
“The tin-asses are invading!”
“How far out?” one of the recon Marines asked. “What are our orders?”
“They’re not here. Not to New Hope,” she said.”
“Where are they, then?” Rev asked.
“By the Mother, they’ve invaded the Home System!”