Corpsman (11 page)

She’d cleared Korf’s back first, so she focused on his head.  A huge piece of plasticrete had his head trapped, and Liege couldn’t budge it.  She was about to call for Pablo to help when she remembered her M99.  She’d slung it over her back when she started clambering over the pile.  She pulled it back around and jammed the muzzled between the bottom edge of the piece of the wall and some rubble underneath it.  She took a deep breath, and then bracing her feet, pulled down with everything she had.  The slab lifted ever so slightly, and still straining to hold it up, she quickly grabbed Korf’s harness and yanked him back.  His head came free, and Liege pulled him upright.

I’m probably doing all sorts of damage here.

For injuries such as his, the protocol was to keep a patient as still as possible and secure the neck and head.  But that protocol didn’t consider people trying to kill both the patient and caregiver.

She put her arms around Korf from behind, locking her hands across his chest.  Her nerves were on fire, but she pushed up with all the force she could muster.  There was a nasty crackling sound from one of his legs, but he jerked free, sending Liege down on her ass with him on top of her.  Liege pushed him aside, stood, and managed to get him into a fireman’s carry.  She stumbled off the rubble pile when a string of automatic fire laced both of them.  The round that struck her side was a much bigger round than what had hit her a few minutes ago, and the force drove her to one knee.  She knew that Korf had been hit as well, and she hoped his bones were still functioning.

Liege got back up just as Pablo and Vic rushed out from cover and pulled Korf from her shoulders.  Vic took Korf, and Pablo helped Liege escape the line of fire.

They almost dove through the broken door of the adjoining building.  Liege didn’t know if the explosion next door had blasted the plastiglass door or if the Marines smashed it, but she didn’t care.  Korf and she were out of direct fire. 

What she’d done suddenly hit her.  She’d been working almost from muscle memory out there, somehow ignoring the fact that she’d been a very obvious target.  She shouldn’t have survived.

Liege leaned over and vomited the small amount of field rats she’d eaten.

“That’s our Doc,” Vic said, a smile on his face, as he leaned over to hold her head so she wouldn’t get the vomit on herself.

She hadn’t eaten much, so after a couple of heaves, she was able to sit up and wipe her mouth.

“You both OK?” she asked as she pulled out her scanner to check Korf. 

Her hands were shaking, but whether from the energy blast she’d absorbed or from simple relief, she didn’t know.  She tried to focus on the readouts, which didn’t look good, but she was having a hard time concentrating.

“What do we got?” Doc Gnish asked, rushing into the store.

“Korf looks fucked up, and I don’t think Doc’s in too good a shape,” Vic said.

Liege wanted to protest Gnish taking over.  Korf was her squadmate, her responsibility.  But as shock was taking over, she realized that she was not totally all there.  Gnish was a good corpsman with plenty of experience, and he’d be able to take care of Korf.

Liege leaned back, not caring that she’d just put her butt in her vomit.  She watched Gnish work on Korf, trying to professionally evaluate her fellow corpsman’s work, but not being able to make much sense of it.

She wasn’t aware when the fighting outside stopped.  The rest of the squad came in to check on Korf and her, but she waved off their concerns.  She did try to stand up when Korf was CASEVAC’d, but Vic calmed her down.  Korf was in good hands, he kept telling her.

Wythe and Vic helped Liege to her feet, and with legs that didn’t want to obey her commands, they supported her while she left the store.  Five Marines were standing on the rubble pile about where she’d thought Corporal Wheng was buried.  She tried to change direction to reach them.  Maybe Wheng was resurrectable.

“No, Doc, let them get Killer.  You need to get back to the aid station,” Wythe told her.

The battalion had one Armadillo tracked fighting vehicle, an ambulance variant, and it had arrived to pick up the wounded.  Liege was helped inside where HM1 Knight met her and sat her down.  Two other wounded Marines were loaded as well, but Liege couldn’t make out their injuries.

“How’re you feeling, Neves?” Knight asked, running a scanner over her.

“Not too bad,” Liege told him.  “I’ll be—”

And that was the last thing Liege remembered.

FS JOSHUA HOPE OF LIFE

Chapter 16

Liege came to under harsh, bright lights.  Her head felt fuzzy, and she was confused.

“You feeling OK?” someone asked. 

Liege turned her head to the left to see a young man in scrubs standing over her, looking expectantly.

“I’m fine,” she croaked out by force of habit.

But she wasn’t fine.  Her thoughts were not particularly clear.

“Good.  You got quite a jolt down there, close to a level three.  You’ve got a hairline fracture of the right tibia.  But I think you’re going to be fine, given time.  No need for regen, at least.”

Regen?  Why?

Then slowly, things began to coalesce into something that made sense.  They’d been on patrol, and they’d been hit.  She’d gone to recover Korf.

Korf!

“How’s Korf?  Is he OK?”

The nurse, for that’s who the guy had to be, repeated “Korf?  Let me see.  Ah, yes.  Lance Corporal Reynaldo Korf.” He paused a moment while she looked at his PA.  “Oh, pretty serious.”

Liege’s heart dropped as she tried to sit up.

“He’s suffered severe internal trauma and will probably lose a leg.  He’s in stasis now for transport back to Tarawa where he’s going to face some serious regen time.”

“But he’ll make it?”

“I don’t see why not.  You never know, of course, but I would imagine he’ll make a full recovery.”

Liege sunk back down relieved.  At least Korf had made it.

“And Corporal Wheng?” she asked.

The nurse didn’t have to look at his PA for the answer. 

His face fell as he said, “I’m sorry, Liege.  Corporal Wheng didn’t survive.”

“What about resurrection?” Liege asked.

“His head was crushed when the building fell on him.  No chance for that.”

Liege felt as if someone had poleaxed her in the gut.  She was serving with the Marines, and that was a hazardous job.  She knew on an intellectual level that Marines died.  But not her Marines.  Corporal Wheng—Killer Wheng—was someone she knew, someone she trained with, went on missions with, sat around the Vineyard and shot the shit with.  He wasn’t some sort of abstract.  He was a living, breathing compatriot, even a friend.  She’d never hear his wry take on life again, never hear him offer an observation that sounded complacent, but as it sunk in, would cause Liege to laugh out loud.

“. . . out as soon as he’s free.  So until then, if you need me, just ring your buzzer.”

“Pardon?” Liege asked the nurse, missing half of what he’d just said.

“Doctor Mannerheim.  He’ll be in to check you out and let you know what’s happening.”

“Oh, OK,” Liege said.

Doctor Mannerheim was the ship’s surgeon.  He was junior in rank to the battalion’s Doctor X’anto, but on the ship, his medical decisions ruled.  He could even overturn a decision by the ship’s commanding officer if it pertained to health.

Things were still a little fuzzy, but the pieces were falling into place.  She remembered the frantic digging to pull out Korf.  She remembered getting hit by an energy weapon of some kind. 

What did he say?  Almost a Level 3?

Level 3 wasn’t necessarily lethal, but it would effectively fry out a person’s nervous system and cause significant tissue damage.  Getting hit with a Level 3 for more than two seconds meant long term regen, and the process might not be 100% effective.

He’d also mentioned a fractured tibia.  She looked down at her leg, which was enclosed in a regen chamber.  The chamber was probably overkill.  The B nanos would be weaving their lattice around the broken bone, injecting small regen pellets around the fracture, and she knew a couple of session in the Electrolavage System, the ELS, would be more beneficial.  The regen chamber might optimize healing, but with this kind of injury, the nanos, aided by the ELS, could repair the bone within a couple of days.

She wondered where she’d broken it.  Probably the shot she’d taken, but it could have been while she was climbing around the rubble.

“So how’s our hero doing?” Doctor Mannerheim asked, pulling back the curtain.

Hero?

“Um, I’m fine.”

The doctor looked at the readouts in the regen chamber clamped around her leg and then nodded approvingly. He ran his PA across her repeater and took a moment to read up on her chart.

“Well, HM Neves—can I call you Liege?” he asked, not waiting for a response.  “You came close to some pretty serious damage, but close doesn’t count.  I watched the battle recordings, though, and I don’t see how you escaped with so little.  You were very, very lucky.  Commander Barnes ran the CIC-W on you, and he counted no less than 29 rounds that either hit you or came within 15 centimeters.  Four of those that missed were .50 cal rounds.”

.
50 cals?
Liege thought, her eyes widening. 

A Marine’s skins and bones were pretty good defenses against most small arms, but they offered no protection against a .50 caliber slug.

“In fact, the .42 cal round that hit your side should have penetrated into your lungs, but somehow, it deflected off.  It must have been just at the right angle.  Another belt of fire, and I’m afraid you might not have made it.  Lucky for you, that sniper took out the machine gunner before he could fire again.”

Machine gunner?  Sniper?

Liege’s thoughts were getting muddled again.  She remembered a blow to the ribs, but she had no idea what the doctor was talking about it.

“What sniper?” she asked.

“Oh, I saw the recording of her, too.  At one point, she was dangling off a building with another Marine holding her up like a marionette.”

The doctor looked excited as he recounted what he’d seen.  The
Josh
would have been recording the entire battle, and evidently, the visuals were open to the staff.

“Which sniper?”

“Oh, the one with the odd name.  Medicine Crow or something like that.”

Liege raised her eyebrows.  Corporal Medicine Crow had been the one to save Tamara Veal’s ass, and now it looked like she’d saved her ass as well.  Maybe there was something to this guardian angel stuff.

“So anyway, back to your medical situation.  Your leg will be fine in another two or three days.  You’ve suffered minor tissue damage; you know, the typical cuts and scrapes—nothing serious.  Your main issue is the peripheral nerve damage.  I don’t want to put you into regen if I can help it, but I’m sending you back to Tarawa for a full work-up.  I’ll let one of the staff neurologists make that call.

“Tarawa?  Back at the hospital there?”

“Yes, of course at the hospital there.  We’ve one of the finest staffs there in the Navy.  Hell, the entire Federation, I’d say.”

“But you mean after the deployment, right?”

“No, Liege.  You’re going back on the next picket.  You’ve grabbed the Golden Ticket back home.”

“But, I can’t go back now.  I’ve got to be with my squad.”

“That’s an admirable emotion, Liege, but there’s no need.  There are more than enough corpsmen to cover for you.  I know it’s not very comfortable down there.  I came down for a day, after all, so I’ve seen what they feed you,” he said with a knowing laugh.  “No, in a few days, you’ll be back with the Navy—on Tarawa, of course, but at least in the hospital.  No more gung-ho Marines for a while.”

Liege felt a rise of anger that she had to push back down.

“Is there a medical reason I have to go back now?” she asked, her voice calm.

“No.  Well, yes.  You can’t risk getting hit again for at least a year.  As you know, energy disrupters like what hit you have a cumulative effect.  If you get hit again within a year or so, it could end up much worse.  Technically, you’re non-deployable until cleared.”

Liege had been taught that at A Schools, but she’d forgotten it.

“But other than that, is there a reason I can’t stay until the battalion rotates out?”

“Well, no.  You won’t suffer any more damage.  But I’d feel better if you were evaluated by the neurosurgeons.”

“But in your professional opinion, you think I’m stable?”

“Well, yes.”

“I trust your expertise, Doctor.  If you think I’m stable, that’s good enough for me.  And I’d really like to get back to my battalion.  I don’t have to go out into the ville, if you require that.  But I can at least run sick call and help in the aid station.  Chief Soukianssian can use some help.  You can ask him yourself.”

The doctor seemed to waver, and Liege wondered if she’d laid on the compliments too heavily.

“Chief needs you?” he asked, sounding unsure.

“Yes, sir.  You can call him up.  If I’m out of action, he’s going to have to pull someone else to go out with my squad.  If he does that, he’ll be even more shorthanded. “

“But don’t you want to get back to Tarawa?  It can’t be that comfortable serving with the Marines.  Wouldn’t you like to get back to the blue side?”

“I appreciate that, sir.  But as they taught us at FTCS, the Marines count on us.  So I’d like to uphold Navy tradition of giving it everything I’ve got.”

Shit, that sounds fake
.

The doctor seemed to be swayed, though. 

“Well, Liege, I have to say, I’m impressed.  I thought I’d give you an easy out, but I forgot the big picture.  Yes, we need to support our green brothers. 

“OK, two more days here on the ELS to get your leg healed, and I’ll run another eval on you.  If everything’s still green, I’ll let you return to the battalion.”

Liege was surprised at how relieved she felt when she heard that.  Sure, it would be nice to be back on Tarawa, and not just from the comfort aspect. She’d be an HM3 soon, and she’d need to work out the details to bring Avó and Leticia there, so the extra time could be a godsend.  But she couldn’t leave the battalion while there was still a mission.  She’d come with them, and she’d return with them.  Nothing else was an option.