She caughtup with Vargr at Big Daddy, where he’d been laid on the same table she’d been on when she woke. Maura was there and Locke. Vincent was sticking an IV drip into his good arm, so they must have some supplies, and Rutger approached from the right as she took the three steps into the vehicle with one stride.
“How is he? Vincent? He’ll live? Say yes.”
She felt arms sweep around her, Rutger brought his body closer to her back, and she just knew he planned to soothe her, because his voice started out low. “Hey?—”
“Fuck. Don’t! Tell me, please. I need toknow.”
Vincent straightened. “There’s not a lot I can do, Cyn. He needs blood, vascular and chest surgery, at a guess. I’ve got him hooked up to an ECG, but his heart is starting to fail. Even beasters?—”
“I know, even beasters have limits, except I was told there was an alternative. My nanites. Inject them if it’s his last chance.” The fingers on his wrecked arm were visible and looked an ugly dark color—almost blue.Fuck.She wasn’t courageous enough to ask about that.
Maura swallowed, hesitated. “I could. We don’t know what you are, though, what that will do. If he has any chance to survive by himself, it’s better, because mixing the nanites might be deadly. It might kill him anyway.”
Her own expression must’ve been scary, because Locke came around Maura to stand between them.
“I’m sorry, but…” She grabbed at her hair. “I don’t care. You heard what he said!” She jabbed at Vincent.
“It could also be dangerous tous, Cyn. To everyone,” Rutger pointed out. “The mixing.”
Who thought of this shit?
She scrambled to think this through when every second lost could mean Vargr dying.
“Big Daddy! Can you wake him? There are parts of his data we can’t access right? Not even Little Mo? Wake him, somehow.”
“Wake him? I’m not Willow, Cyn,” Locke pointed out. “I can’t do her magic stuff with the data. I can only repair solid things, circuitry. Though I could I suppose, try sending a minor surge through his system, in a way that might do something?”
“Then do it.” She closed her eyes. “Please do it. Choose between Vargr and this.”
“And if it damages Big Daddy?”
“Then don’t damage him.”
She was probably not making sense, but Locke went past her toward the cabin, and she heard sounds as if he sat. A second later the lights flickered, dimmed, then shot into brighter brilliance.
Had it done something? Woken him? Locke rose from the seat and walked up, stopping beside Rutger.
They all waited, no one speaking, as if expecting Big Daddy to revive. Surely an AI would be fast?
Faster than this.
It hadn’t done anything. And why had she thought it would?
She lowered her head, took a deep breath and took that single step that brought her to Vargr’s side. His breathing was erratic, soft, and seemed to almost stop as she watched him, before starting again.
“I wish I’d shot what attacked you. I’m sorry.” She pressed her forehead to the table then reached up and laid the back of her hand against his neck. Still warm. Cyn turned her head and looked at Maura. The woman looked ready to cry, with frown lines ragged across her forehead. “Please?”
She’d do it herself if she knew how.
After a long moment where the world stilled and Maura stayed eye-locked with Cyn, she muttered a “damn this” and marched through that connecting door. She came back bearing a huge syringe full of red swirling liquid. Without another word, and with no one daring to stop her, she inserted the needle into a port on the intravenous line running into Vargr and slowly depressed the plunger on the syringe.
Cyn straightened, cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
“It’s okay. It’s what I wanted to do, just I was afraid to. We all made this decision, right?”
Everyone murmured ayesor similar, and Cyn smiled sadly and remained silent.
“I’ll inject some into his wounded arm too—as long as I can find a vein. Just in case it makes a difference.”
