When the Sun Turns to Darkness

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Chapter Nine

The Grindstone Turns

"What have we got" Kathleen asked as two still suited figures hustled a third suited figure into her makeshift sickbay. One figure pushed up his faceplate, reveling an elderly but still handsome vestige.

"Frank here got his leg trapped between tha BDB and a support strut. Think its broke Doc. Can you fix him up? We're really short out there. Tha boss is gonna be pissed if we're not where she wants us when she gets back from tha Captain’s cabin." He took a breath, letting Kathleen get in a word edgewise.

"Strap Don Quixote to this table, someone get that suit off him. I'll see what I can do." She reached for a tourniquet. "Whats a BDB" she asked.

"Big Dumb Booster" the other figure answered, yanking off his helmet to expose a nearly bald pate on a very young head. "Means its basically a rocket with a payload. Things are heavy, still a couple dozen tonns by the time they get up here. Boss has us humpin' 'em into anyplace we can put them. Getten tight for space though."

He pulled on the suits leg, surprising Kathleen when it easily separated from the suits body. What was exposed almost made her sick. The leg flopped at an odd angle. Just above the knee is was discolored, already swelling badly. As she watched muscle tension started pulling the leg up towards its owners torso. "Not good" she reported, grabbing a sock covered foot. "One of you call sickbay now. I'll do what I can here." She started applying the long rubber tube, cutting blood flow off from the badly damaged limb. "I need something long and stiff. I need to immobilize this leg before anymore damage happens." Grabbing the phone someone offered her she spoke quickly, giving her diagnoses of the mans injury. "Immobilize, 2mg Morphine, transport. Got it." Tossing the phone aside for someone else to hang up she turned to hunt for splints. With her patient still unconscious she had a little time to waste, but not much.

Two long metal tubes were shoved in her hand, each nearly as long as the mans leg. Snatching a roll of adhesive tape from her bag she started applying a makeshift splint. With the others eager help it took less than five minutes to stabilize her patient enough for transport, even in zero gravity. Shoving an international orange coloured length of plastic into one mans hand she ordered him out. "That's temporarily medical priority, it'll clear the way for you. Now hustle."

Both men, still wearing their suits grabbed their friend and headed out. Kathleen wiped her face, then started carefully packing her supplies and cleaning up.

"What about him" a deep mellow voice asked from behind her. Kathleen turned to find that a middle aged black man was watching her. She noted he was quite handsome, then spotted a small tube of metal rods next to him. "He'll lose the leg" she admitted. "That kind of damage... I’m honestly sorry. Only the outer skin and a few tendons are holding his leg on. He's really lucky to be alive. I haven't what I need here for that kind of injury. If they get him to the doctors before he dies I think he'll make it."

"Your not a doctor?" he asked, surprised.

"I'm a Vet" Kathleen admitted. “Large animals were my speciality.”

"How'd you get this job then."

"Rebecca asked for me, they sent me." She shrugged, still packing things back where they belonged.

"Boss your sister?"

"Wife" Kathleen noted the upraised eyebrow. "Like, your infested. Better get someone to spray."

"Nah, I got no problem with that. You did good work, saved a life. Old friend of mine. Around people like him, me... You could be damn near anything and it wouldn't matter. Thing is he's gonna live. In space one less leg won't be that big a deal. Not like dirtside." He stuck out one dark hand. "Franklin Randall Washington at your service. Propulsion Engineering on detached duty tah get this baby online."

Kath accepted his hand, her own pale hand almost vanishing within its darkness. "Kathleen Ruth Wilkins. Vet, stripper."

"Stripper?" Franklin blinked. "You are kidding right?"

Kathleen laughed. "Nope. That's where Becky found me. Vets don't make a lot of money, not really. Not when your starting out and have mountains of student loans to pay. I started dancing to make ends meet. Boss found out, wanted some 'personal attention.' I said no so he fired me. I'd been dancing three years when Becky came into my life. Took me out of the slums and into her heart. Crazy woman."

Franklin smiled, a warm, friendly expression. He patted the metal wall beside him. "Used to be DISCOVERY's command deck and living quarters. Bomb fried the original Control Tower and two guys inside it. Would have taken a week to fix it. Your Becky decided to rip it out, dump it and strip DISCOVERY. I'd hazard a guess the old girls pilot is pissed, but well... Hell Kathy your lady did a job. Guys out there like her. Meetin you tells me it wasn't a fluke. No, you got no problems from us. Now I gotta finish getten this old Lady hooked into the station so we can really use her. Else you'll be pulling your lady's boot outta my ass." He waved, reached up above him and vanished.

Kathleen drifted forward. Now that he'd mentioned it she could see the tiles, read their pattern. Reaching out she laid her hand on one of the cold tiles, feeling it for the first time. "So" she whispered to the ship. "You

brought us up here, now we rip you apart. I'm so sorry." Looking around her she wondered what her wife was up to right now.