The CHANGI BULLET

Chapter 16 - Casualties

The alien strike near to the cockpit had pushed the fuselage inwards by about ten feet, and the result of this collision had proved catastrophic to Petrik, where he had been sitting in his navigator seat. Any further, and the hull would have been breached. That was the assessment of Farrah and Toto. They were now without cousin, Vincent, who had been killed in a similar way, crushed between the inner corridor skin and a metal stairway.

Ezra came to, in his bed in the sick bay, to see Ari watching him.

'We'll have to stop doing this, Ari, mate.'

'How do you feel?'

'I feel surprisingly great.'

'That will be the meds. You'll be okay. The doctors say concussion and severe abdominal bruising. A few cuts to the face and neck.'

Ezra reached up, finding his fabulous beard was no longer there. 'Who..?'

'Dr Ghosh shaved you to assist with treating your lacerations.'

'Is the Izzati out of danger, Ari?'

'Yes. Don't worry. You and your men performed heroically.'

'What about casualties?'

'We lost Petrik and one of the engineers, Vincent.'

Ezra allowed that awful news to sink in. Dr Ghosh entered the room to check his condition.

'Hello, doc.'

'My name is Dr Ghosh, I would remind you.'

Ezra bit that bullet - she really was a hard ass.

'Ari, what exactly happened to me?'

'There was an impact very close to you which...knocked you about, I don't know the medical term.' Ezra playfully glanced at Dr Ghosh for clarification, but she was busy. Ari continued, 'Cerys saved your life. She pulled you clear, then destroyed the craft which was heading straight at you. She probably saved the ship.'

Three times, Ezra tried to say something meaningful, but just settled for an incline of the head, so shocked was he.

The two Russians had moved the casualties to the morgue, then got on with cooking breakfast for everyone. Ari had made the decision that they would not go back to sleep; they would simply travel further while awake. He would share rolling shifts in the cockpit with Inggrid. His co-pilot had been badly affected by seeing Petrik die, hysterical at the time, but she held herself together as professionally as she could. It was sad that she also had the distress of visiting her still sleeping cat whenever she was relieved from duty. She ate first, earlier and alone. As did Rizki, in a far corner. Now he sat cradling a mug of tea. He didn't regret his decision to join the flight, but his introduction to it had been horrendous on his nerves. Dr Haller had given him a shot of sedative, but he still sat there shaking slightly over his tea. Other people were aware of Rizki's fright, but had their own demons to battle in the hours following the attack.

Medina sat with Cerys, eating French-Russian toast and drinking black coffee. Roach was working on the starboard gun turret, trying to free it up. Cerys was the heroine, congratulated by the professors and by Charles. Even Farrah, heartbroken to lose her cousin, still came over to give her a big hug. If everyone would have survived the attack, Cerys might have enjoyed the notoriety more.

'Why did they give up?' she asked Medina.

He shrugged. 'Maybe we passed out of their back yard, so they cooled down. The Russians stopped shooting when the Chinese pulled back from India, remember. War is about territory. Even out here.'

'I thought war was just something stupid that we did.'

'You should eat, Cerys. You need it.'

'You've lost some muscle tone, since we left.'

'Whaaaat? No way, you're out of your mind.'

She smiled again for the first time.

'Bizarrely, I feel tired again.'

'Adrenalin, girl. After seeing your first action.'

'I think I'll have a shower and turn in. After I've visited Ezra.'

'Tell him me and Roach will be along later.'

Ari arrived. He shared a look with Rizki, who had decided to stretch his legs around the room, but got a coffee and took Cerys' seat when she got up to leave, giving him a brief belly hug.

Cerys walked down to the sick bay. Dr Ghosh pulled a grumpy face on seeing her, but indicated that she could go in. Ezra was dressed and getting ready to leave.

'Hey! Should you be doing that, you bad man?'

'It's just bruising. No broken bones. I can't just sit here.'

She put his boots on for him.

'I think you've helped me enough,' he said. 'You got to repel boarders, after all. You did great, I believe. And I thank you for saving my life.'

'You are very welcome. Can you eat?'

'Yes. I'm starving.'

'Well, I'll come and sit with you. But be warned, I might nod off.'

'Then, I'll carry you to your bunk. Or, on second thoughts...' He grimaced. '...maybe I won't.'

She helped him onto his feet and he leaned on her all the way to the Mess.

Ezra ordered ham and scrambled eggs, with black coffee. Cerys sat looking at him.

'Will I scar?' he asked, indicating his facial injuries.

'Oh, I don't think so. They put those plastic strips across your cuts. They haven't had to use real stitches. Anyway, don't be so vain. Space pioneers don't have time to be vain.'

'No time to be vain? You won't be doing anything with your hair, then?'

She rolled her eyes at him.

'You know, Ezra, I quite enjoyed the action. It gave me a bit of a buzz.'

'It tends to do that. Hey, in the new world, they'll name a city after you. The heroine of the Izzati. It will be called Pughburgh.'

She giggled. 'Pughburgh.'

Professor Stokes joined them. They couldn't exactly ask her not to.

'Extraordinary moments,' the woman said. 'Well done to you, Cerys. You were very brave during all that.'

'How is the Izzati, professor?' Ezra asked.

'Our professional opinion is that she is a bit like you, Ezra. Battered and bruised, but functioning. Hopefully we won't have anything like that again. But I suppose we bring it upon ourselves.'

'How so?' asked Cerys.

'How so, dear? Well, we carry our warmongering nature out into the universe, we must expect beings to defend themselves. I was against the Izzati being armed from the beginning, but I was outvoted.'

'We would be dead now, then,' continued Cerys.

Professor Stokes shrugged.

'When are you sending back your first report, Cerys?'

'Today, Professor.'

'It must be disconcerting for you to have to report the two deaths.'

'No, I'll report the facts.'

'Tell me, Cerys, when we reach our destination, what will be your role? Will there be much call for journalism?'

'Well, my father was a carpenter. I always liked helping him. I'll build you a house if you tell me in great technical detail what you want it to look like.'

Professor Stoked smiled sourly. 'Oh, look, the chefs are free. I must get a bite to eat. Will you excuse me?'

Cerys watched the woman leave them. She was simmering, while Ezra was mildly amused.

'What a bitch. Anyway, where were we?'

'Pughburgh.'

'Oh, yes. I like that. And they will name the dirty sludge of a river that runs through it after you.'