His training left him when the jagged maw between horn-like mandibles screeched a cry that left his ears ringing long after it had passed. He raised his hands to block the dripping stinger. The creature thrust. August punched the blow aside. The substance that had been dripping from the stinger hissed and burned through his glove. He removed it and rolled away. He grabbed his pistol mid-roll, jumped to his feet, and aimed at a steaming pile of guts.
General Wolf’s MoShun skybeam smoked from the tip.
August kept his pistol aimed at the dead dolo. It twitched in the grass as its flesh sizzled from the beam that killed it. “Thanks,” August said with barely any control over his breathing. His hands were shaking, and his eyes were stuck wide open, but he couldn’t do anything about that.
“Are you alright, kid?” Vern Slupman approached the rookie.
“I’m good.” He had to act tough, even in a situation that warranted panic.
Sterling cheered. “We’re in it now, huh, General? Always good to get that first one out of the way.”
Wolf ignored the remark and kept his eyes locked on the rookie.
August felt his superior’s stare. He had to do something to prove he was unaffected. A little rattled, sure. But I’m fine. He stepped away from Slupman and approached the twitching corpse. “It’s something, isn’t it?” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt.
“First time seeing one so close?” Rosek asked. She hadn’t made it to her suit before Wolf had disposed of the threat.
August nodded. “Other than in a museum as a kid, that is.”
“You shouldn’t stand so close to it,” Luna Belmont said.
“I’m okay, trust me,” August said. “A little rattled, sure. But I—” The pain was unlike anything he’d felt before.
“Get him out of there!” Wolf shouted.
Slupman and West sprinted toward the rookie and grabbed him by the shoulders before he collapsed. They dragged him to Luna Belmont, who was already rummaging through her medic’s bag. Rosek drew her pistol and fired three times into the already-dead dolorium.
“Sit him up.” Belmont barked the order.
They set him softly on the ground, his back against the empty mech suit’s leg.
Belmont dropped her medic bag beside August and knelt before him.
Wolf fell to one knee beside her. “Those creatures are still active for a while after death. Do not go near them. Do not—”
“General, please.” Belmont raised her voice. “He’ll be going into shock soon. I’m not sure if he can even hear you anymore.”
“Besides,” Sterling said with a hand over his cigarette pocket. “I think he’s learned the lesson.”
Belmont rummaged through her bag and unleashed a torrent of quiet curses. August’s ears still worked fine, but now he wondered how long that would stay true. He couldn’t move his searing limbs even if he wanted to. The only part of him not soaked in pain was the spot on his calf where he’d taken the sting. The area had gone numb. The medic dropped her bag and left. She crawled along the ground like a skulking thief, spreading tufts of grass like curtains.
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“Belmont, what are you doing?” Wolf’s eyes never left the rookie.
“Hang on,” she snapped. She remembered who she was talking to. “General. Please.”
Vern Slupman crouched before August. He lowered the sunglasses he’d been wearing even under the moon and fixed a concentrated gaze on his injured squad-mate.
“What is it, Colonel?” Wolf asked him.
Slupman shook his head and donned his sunglasses. He rose, Wolf’s eyes on him now. Belmont returned with a handful of green and pushed Slupman aside with a stiff shoulder, cutting the General’s stern gaze in the process.
“What’s this?” Wolf asked.
“Sweet stem,” Belmont said. She organized the stiff stems into a bushel and gnawed the bottom halves. She ripped the masticated portion from the rest and ground them between bare palms.
“You have a bag full of Slupman certified medical products there, Colonel,” Wolf said.
Belmont rolled her eyes. “I know.”
“Then what is the meaning of all this?”
“Easier. Cheaper. Just as effective.” She concentrated hard as she spoke. The green in her palms turned to a wet mash. She plucked strands of hard fibers from the mash and scooped a glop of it with a fingertip. She froze. “Why does this boy still have armor on?”
Wolf and Slupman acted immediately. August couldn’t feel the latches being unhooked, but he could hear them.
“Can you talk, honey?” Belmont asked.
August was going to say yes, but all he could produce was a dumb, wordless moan. His eyes widened at the sound of it. He was losing control of his own body.
Belmont smiled and held warming eye contact. “Don’t worry about it. This ain’t serious. You’ll be yapping as much as Sterling in no time. Good to see you still have your hearing.” Once the armor was off, she rolled up his pant leg and spread the green mash over his wound like butter on bread.
He winced in anticipation but felt nothing.
“Shouldn’t take long.” Luna Belmont rubbed the rest of the mash into the grass, gave August a final smile, and got up. The General got up with her while Slupman lingered, his brows furrowed as he inspected the rookie.
“What was all that?” Wolf asked, going after Belmont.
“I healed him, General,” Belmont said. “Isn’t that my job?”
“You are to do your job with the equipment provided to you,” Wolf said. He lowered his voice, though August could still hear. “Besides, he’s not healed yet.”
“He will be,” Belmont was confident. “And what does it matter what I use to do my job—as long as I do it—with due respect, General.”
“We are sent outside the dome with a specific set of equipment,” Wolf said. “That equipment has been chosen by the brightest scientific minds under the dome.”
“Oh, please,” Belmont said. “The stuff in that bag is expensive for nothing, and most of it is overkill anyway.” She bent and fished a bottle from the bag. “Do you know what this is?”
Wolf narrowed his eyes to read the label.
Belmont spoke before he could decipher. “It’s the same shit that I just used on that boy. Only difference is it’s extremely concentrated and mixed with a bunch of other useless stuff that gives nothing but unwanted side-effects.”
“Understandable,” Wolf said. “But we have orders. We are given our equipment for a reason, and we are expected to use what we are given. We don’t know much about the atmosphere outside the dome. We don’t know what’s in the soil. If that stuff you just used ends up harming Private Ace, I’ll have to answer to the board.”
“The board?” She was dumbfounded. “I gave a boy some medicine, General.”
“Not the right kind,” Wolf said. His face softened. “I know your heart is in the right place, Colonel, but—”
“Let me ask you this, General,” Belmont said. “If you were standing ten yards away from your MoShun rifle, and a dolorium was charging at you, and you had barely any time to think before he got to you, would you run for the MoShun gun, or would you pick up that spear that just happened to be sitting at your feet?”
“Spear? What is this, the Romurian Empire?”
“You’d use the spear,” Belmont said.
“I can move my leg,” August spoke with a beaming smile. The pain was nearly gone, too. Only an agonizing needling sensation remained.
“He’s talking again, already,” Belmont smirked, vindicated.
“I don’t doubt your skills or your knowledge, Colonel,” Wolf said. “I’d just expect you to follow protocol next time.”
“I won’t,” Belmont said. “I’m sorry, General, but why use some weird stuff made in a lab that might mess with the kid's ability to get it up or something when what I could find in the soil is just as effective without any side effects?”
“Because it’s a direct order from your superior,” Wolf said.