Abaddon's Gate

“Spin gravity’s not going to do you much good if you’re flat on your back,” she said, tapping his shoulder for emphasis. “You have to sit up more.”

Bull gritted his teeth.

“I can’t sit up,” he said. “I don’t have abdominal muscles. I can’t do anything.”

“You have an adjustable bed,” the doctor said, unfazed. “Adjust it. Stay upright as much as you can.”

“Isn’t that going to screw up my spine even worse?”

“We can brace you,” she said. “Anyway, you can live without functioning legs. You can’t live without functioning lungs.”

The medical wards had changed. Spi

“I’ll do what I can,” Bull said, his teeth clenched against another cough. “If I’ve got to sit up, can I at least get something that travels a little? I’m getting pretty tired of being in the same room all the time.”

“I don’t recommend it.”

“You go

“I am not.”

They paused. Frustration and animosity hung in the air between them. Neither one had slept enough. Both were pushing themselves too hard trying to keep people alive. And they weren’t going to make each other happy.

“I’ll do what I can, doc,” Bull said. “How’s it going out there?”

“People are dying. It’s slowing down, though. At this point, almost all of the emergent cases are stabilized or dead. Right now it’s pretty much the same for everyone. Wound care and support. Keep an eye out for people who had some sort of internal injury we didn’t see at the time and try to catch them before they crash. Rest, fluid, light exercise, and prayer.”

“All right,” he said as his hand terminal chimed. Another co

“And how’s it going on your end?” Doctor Sterling said. Her lips were pressed thin. She knew the answer. Bull used the controls on his bed, shifting himself up to something approaching a seated position. He could feel a difference in his breath, but if anything it made it harder to keep from coughing.

“Let you know in a minute,” he said and accepted the co

“Captain,” Bull said, making the title a greeting.

“Mister Baca,” she said in return. “I got your last message.”

“I don’t suppose you’re calling to arrange the transfer of the prisoner and your remaining crew?”

She didn’t smile.

“I wanted to thank you for the staging area you’ve provided for our medical staff. We will not, however, be transferring any further perso

“You don’t have a sufficient complement left on your ship to run it. Not even as a skeleton crew. Between the injured and the medics and the injured medics, I’ve got two-thirds of your people here right now.”

“And I thank you for that.”

“My point is you have a third or less of your crew left standing. You’re pulling double, maybe triple shifts. Earth is still making noise about transferring Holden to them until he’s answered charges for the Seung Un.” He hadn’t mentioned Clarissa Mao’s confession. That was a card he could play another time. He lifted his hand. “All of us have watched someone we cared about die because of something we don’t understand. All of us are grieving and scared. If we don’t all come together, someone’s going to do something we’ll all regret.”

“The Martian military code requires—”

“I’ve got an open investigation here. I’ll share all the information we’ve gathered. Some of it’s pretty damn interesting.”

Something moved in his chest, and he was coughing so hard he couldn’t speak or listen. Phlegm filled his mouth, and he leaned over, supporting himself with his arms, to spit it out. Maybe there was something to this sitting-up thing.

“The Martian military code prohibits the surrender of prisoners except in cases of trades authorized by the government. We can’t talk to the MCR, so nothing’s getting authorized.”

“You could surrender to me.”

She laughed that time. The façade of military propriety cracked.

“I wish. I’d be able get a full shift’s sleep. But that tin can you’re in couldn’t take us, even if we couldfight.”

“Which we can’t, so we’re pretty much down to angry letters at twenty paces. I appreciate the call,” he said. “I’ll let the captain know it’s no-go. But hey, lemme ask you. What are you guys go

“Fight with cutting torches and knives,” she said. “This is the Hammurabisigning off.”

Bull watched the dull standby screen for half a minute before he put it down. He’d have to tell Pa, but he wasn’t looking forward to that. She had enough on her plate coordinating all the things he couldn’t because he was trapped in the medical ward.

No matter what Holden’s criminal status with Earth and Mars was, no matter how many people took the blame for the things he was accused of, it didn’t matter. It was a pretext. He was the only person not covered by military treaty who could be debriefed about whatever was on the alien station. Earth wanted him. The OPA wanted him. Mars had him, and wouldn’t give him up just for the joy of having something other people wanted.

And sooner or later some Martian with too much stress and not enough sleep who thought Holden was responsible for drawing them all through the Ring was going to take revenge for a lover or friend who’d died. Bull scratched at his neck, the stubble rough against his fingertips. His body, empty, splayed out before him in the one-third g.

“Bull?”

He looked up. The nurse seemed, if anything, more tired than the doctor had been.

“You’ve got a couple visitors, if you’re up for it,” he said.

“Depends. Who you got?”

“Priest,” he said. It took a moment to realize it wasn’t a name but a job description.

“The Russian from the Rocinante?”

The nurse shook his head. “The politician. Cortez.”

“What does he want?”

“As far as I can tell? Save your soul. He’s talking about protecting humanity from the devil. I think he wants you to help with that.”

“Tell him to talk to Serge at the security office. Who else wants a piece of me?”

The nurse’s expression changed. For a moment, Bull couldn’t say what was strange about it, then he realized it was the first time in his memory he’d seen the nurse smile.

“Someone’s got a little prezzie for you,” the nurse said, then leaned back out into the corridor. “Okay. Come on in.”

Bull coughed again, bringing up more phlegm. Sam appeared in the doorway, gri

“Rosenberg? You been wasting time when you should be fixing my ship?”

“You’ve still got one more mutiny before it’s your ship,” Sam said. “And yeah, when the crew heard about what happened with you and Ashford, some of us wanted to put together a little present.”

Bull shifted, then caught himself. He was so used to having the muscles in his trunk to hold himself up that every time he began to fall, it was a little surprising. It was one of the things he missed about null g. Sam didn’t notice, or pretended not to. She shifted to the side and took hold of the crate’s release bar like a stage magician about to reveal an illusion. Doctor Sterling appeared in the doorway, a sly smile haunting her lips. Bull had the uncomfortable feeling of walking in on his own surprise party.