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of us gasped or moaned or cried out. Ilyan grabbed my free hand with both of his.
"We'll die!" Tesla gasped, grabbing onto Maiga. "We'll die if we stay here!"
"We'll die if we move," Maiga said. She raised her voice. "Hang on, everyone. It can't
last much longer."
She couldn't know that. She just wanted to make everyone feel better. She looked
across the aisle to me, no beyond me, to Ilyan.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.
Ilyan leaned right across me, chest almost on my lap and reached across to Maiga.
She took his outstretched hand.
"I love you," Ilyan said, his voice so hushed I doubt anyone but her, Tesla and me
heard him. I turned away staring at the bulkhead, embarrassed. Ilyan sat up again and turned
his face towards the wall.
I glanced across to see Maiga had her head down, face hidden. And beyond her, I saw
Tesla glare with narrowed eyes at Ilyan. Then he pressed himself even closer to Maiga and
took her hand. She didn't do anything to push him away at all, let him snuggle up.
I realised that the quiet outside had started to stretch out when Tanashi spoke up.
"Is it over?"
Rish leaned over to the radio and turned it on, flicked the dials for a second until we
heard an urgent voice.
"...assist wounded onto transport. Repeat, all medics assist wounded onto transport.
Moving out in fifteen, one five, minutes."
Tanashi and Diliph moved before anyone could stop them. When they opened the
door, the sounds and the stink hit us. Burning. Blood. Smoke. Screaming.
"Why are we moving out so quickly?" Ilyan stared out at the horror as Rish raised the
plate from the windshield.
"They've stopped shelling so they can send in ground troops," Maiga said. She
disentangled herself from Tesla and moved up front. "Make what room you can, we'll be
taking on casualties."
Wounded men and women were unceremoniously shoved and dragged aboard.
Tanashi and Diliph came back, their clothes, skin and hair gory. We all tried our best to
bandage wounds and offer comfort. Tesla looked ready to freak again as he pressed a
bandage to the head wound of an infantryman. Despite his injury, the soldier still held his
rifle, in a grip so tight his knuckles showed pale against his mid brown skin.
"Rish, get into the formation," Maiga ordered. Rish manoeuvred, avoiding the burnt
out wrecks and trying to avoid the bodies on the road. Not always possible to do that and I
just hoped like hell that any poor bastards we drove over were already dead.
A much-reduced convoy regrouped on the road and an order came over the radio.
"Moving out two minutes."
Fuck two minutes, I wanted to yell. Drive the fuck on! I glanced back from where I
stood wedged up behind Rish's seat. A young woman, insignia too bloodied and burnt to
make out, now lay where I'd sat beside Ilyan. Her head rested on his lap and I watched him
stroke her hair gently and saw his lips move as he spoke softly to comfort her.
The longest two minutes ever ticked by and the go order came over the radio. The
convoy moved out. Behind us the tanks remained, most of them destroyed, but a couple still
firing their guns at the approaching Kitsnujitar infantry.
We all belted along that road too fast for the icy conditions and the overloaded
vehicles. More than one vehicle skidded out of formation and frantically chased to catch up. I
hung on tight to the back of the driver's seat. My mouth tasted bitter and sick, as the
adrenaline wore away. I wanted a drink, but the wounded had first call on the water.
Someone pulled on the back of my pants and I turned to see an infantryman, older
than me, his sunburnt face pasty and grey, lying on the two seats right behind me. I sat on the
floor, wedged into the corner between the wall and the driver's seat.
"You're okay, mate," I said, no idea if I lied or not. I couldn't even see his injury.
"Got a nip?" He asked.
I gave him a gulp of the rum I still carried in a hip flask, and then took one myself.
"Shell took the whole arse end of the truck off," he whispered. "All them kids."
Nothing I could say to that.
"Wish I coulda met my kid one more time." I looked up at him, saw a tear run down
his face. "She was a pretty little thing, just like her mother. Just wish I coulda seen how she
turned out." He went quiet, eyes closed. Not dead. I could see him breathing. I stayed quiet
and let him dream about his little girl.
We arrived back at the city garrison just after nightfall and evacuated the wounded.
Last off was the youngster Ilyan had been comforting. I'd looked at her when we arrived and
knew we didn't need to hurry. When the others had all been unloaded, I went over to Ilyan.
He looked up at me, eyes red and sore.
"She kept calling me Dezi. I think he was her lover."
"Okay," I said, gently. I beckoned Diliph who came over and helped me move the
dead soldier off Ilyan's lap. We carried her body out of the vehicle and placed her carefully
on the ground.
"Dead one," I said to the medics collecting up the wounded. "We're empty."
The medic glanced at the dead girl as Diliph covered her with a blanket.
"Leave her for the snatchers," he said, referring to the crews that collected up the
bodies after combat. He walked off. I flicked him the middle finger, and then got back aboard
the transport.
Ilyan sat in near darkness, the only one still aboard. I couldn't sit down beside him, the
seat was soaked with the dead girl's blood.
"Ilyan," I said, gentle as I could, seeing how pale and on the edge he looked. "Can I
do anything for you?"
He looked up at me, eyes blank and bleak.
"You can get me the fuck off this planet."
Chapter 20
I didn't expect it to be so beautiful. In terms of fighting Chiamajan was even more
hostile then Kitsnujitar. But the landscape...
Rolling hills of blue-green grass, or something enough like grass. Colourful patches of
flowers, dotted around those meadows. Pools and rivers that reflected the colour of the sky.
The blue sky. The exact right shade of blue.
It felt like coming home.
Except for one crucial difference.
As we stepped off the shuttle belonging to the smuggler who'd brought us here, we all
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