Two of the darts had embedded close together into the meat of his right thigh. The other one was protruding from his left calf muscle. Deen was wincing from the pain and gritting his teeth.
His suit had detected the punctures and inflated rings around the damaged area to seal off the escape of air, but this was only a temporary fix. Victor would have to move quickly. He unzipped his tool bag and pulled out his med kit. Shenzu did the same. They each had a sealant cast. One cast was big enough to cover both of the darts on this leg. A second cast would go over his calf.
"I need to cut the darts first," said Victor, pulling out his laser. "You've got three inches protruding. When I put on the cast, it will squeeze the area tight and press the dart deeper into your leg. I need to cut as close to your leg as possible."
"Don't talk. Just do," said Deen.
"This is going to hurt."
Victor gently pressed the suit down around the first dart as far as he could. Deen winced and went rigid but said nothing. Being careful not to damage the suit, Victor made the first cut, then the second, then the last.
Deen tried to laugh. "I'll make sure you get your field medic certification when this is over, space born."
Victor delicately slid the first cast over Deen's boot and up his leg to his thigh, pausing at the darts. The cast was essentially an elastic sleeve until it was turned on, at which point, it squeezed the area tight as a glove and sealed everything at the edges.
"Do it," said Deen.
Victor slid the cast up over the two darts and pinched the button. The cast shrunk and Deen screamed through gritted teeth. When the cast stopped, Deen's breathing was labored, and his face was red and perspiring. "Do the other one. Faster this time. I'm losing my patience."
Victor did. Deen swore and banged a fist against the inside of the shaft.
When it was done, he exhaled and said, "Whew! We should charge admission to this place. This is more fun than an amusement park."
They got moving again. Victor clawed his way forward, pulling Deen behind him, who had no use of his legs. Benyawe was long gone, so the path was clear and they moved quickly. Shenzu brought up the rear.
They found Mazer waiting inside the shaft just beyond the exit hole. There was so much blood on Mazer's suit that for an instant Victor thought the man was dead. Then Mazer moved and waved them to proceed up the hole, offering to be the last man out. The shield Mazer had made and pushed up the shaft was ahead of him, bloody and tossed to the side. Mazer had apparently set up a defensive position here to keep the Formics from taking the shaft from the other direction. Now a gas-isolation wall sealed off the shaft ten meters ahead.
No words were said. The blood obviously wasn't Mazer's.
Moments later they all were outside. The rest of the team was already at the rendezvous point on the surface a distance away.
"Hold still," Victor said to Deen.
The spool of wire was still on Victor's belt, left over from wiring the batteries. He quickly wrapped several meters around Deen's chest and then tied it off to his own shoulder bag. "I'll pull you behind me. The wire will hold, but we can lock wrists if that will make you feel more secure."
"A hospital bed on solid ground would make me feel secure," said Deen, "but a good grip and strong wire will suffice for now."
They got moving across the surface, with Deen floating behind Victor like a kite, clinging to his hand. Minutes later they saw the others, clustered together in the middle of a giant aperture. It was the top of one of the launch tubes the Formics had used to launch reinforcements down to Earth. The gamma plasma couldn't reach them here.
As soon as Victor and the others were inside the circle, Wit said, "Okay, Imala. You're on. Light up and fly straight."
Imala's voice crackled back over the radio. "Roger that."
She was trying to sound confident, but Victor could detect a hint of fear in her voice. He had installed several large blinking lights to make the ship as conspicuous as possible once Imala started. Victor looked up, zoomed in with his visor, and saw in the distance the tiniest twinkle of light.
*
Imala tapped the boosters and rotated the ship slightly to get it into position. This would be the most difficult part of the process. The computer had a lock on the "X," and the guidance system would do most of the work. All she had to do was make sure the ship was in alignment from the get-go and slow down as soon as she was able. It was a simple job, really. Anyone could have done it. She might be the most qualified space pilot of the bunch, but it didn't have to be her at the stick. Victor had known that, of course. And yet he hadn't argued the point when she had insisted it be her. Maybe he had seen the determination in her face and he had known better than to press the issue. Or maybe he simply had understood that she needed to do this, that she had to contribute somehow.
She'd like to think it was the latter reason: that he understood her.
The shapes on her screen aligned and turned green, signaling she was set.
She tapped the boosters and accelerated. Heavy metal plates covered the ship completely, acting as a radiation shield, but the cameras outside fed
straight to her HUD. The lights blinked and ran back and forth across the front of the ship like a home decorated for the holidays. A neon sign that read SHOOT ME wouldn't have been more obvious.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. The ship was still a tiny dot in the distance. It would be better if the Formics fired sooner than later. The closer she got to the ship, the narrower the tunnel she would be flying into.