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running at top speed and getting nowhere. Her lungs strained, but found almost nothing to breath. This isn t going to work, she thought. Her chest hurt and she began to see speckles of white in her vision. Then she thought of something. Something dangerous, but it might work. Doing nothing was death. There was a switch at the lower edge of the ramp door; it was hard to reach without taking the covering completely off, but her hand should be small enough to reach in and press. . . . Cynthia twisted her body around on the floor until she could get her hand into position. It was incredibly awkward. She pressed a small catch home and the ramp began to descend. Robbins rolled down with it, trying to keep her hand in place. Easiest to roll off the ramp, she thought. That way she d be out of the way of Friedreich s rescuers, and in a slightly more comfortable position as well. People rushed past her and gathered the pilot up, carrying him down the ramp and laying him on the deck. Get some oxygen, Raeder shouted. Are you all right, Lieutenant? Yes, sir, perfectly fine. Good job, Robbins, he said. Lister, bring that stretcher over here. Cynthia released the pressure of her hand on the catch and the ramp snapped up. She tried to pull her hand out, but it was caught. Hey! she shouted, and tried to push her hand back onto the catch. She couldn t find it. The ramp closed over her wrist. It had the finality of memory; she was watching it, disbelieving it, and knowing it was absolutely inevitable all at the same time. Nooooo! she screamed, even before she felt the pain. With horrible finality the ramp crushed the tiny bones of her wrist and she screamed with the shock, falling to her knees. And the worst of it was that it didn t even hurt , not at first. She could feel bone snap, hear it, feel the stretching and rending of tendon and muscle. The ramp clicked home, slicing the flesh that held her upright and Cynthia sprawled on the deck unconscious, the stump of her wrist spouting blood like a severed hydraulic hose. It had happened too quickly for anyone to react. The ramps weren t supposed to be able to raise that fast. Raeder rushed to her, one glance at the blood running down the Speed s side told him the story and he pulled out his belt as he ran. He whipped it around her arm, using it as a tourniquet. Get Goldberg! he shouted. Now! Cynthia woke to the darkness and the quiet and the medical scent of a sick bay Page 168 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html room. She opened her eyes, which felt so very heavy, and sighed. Ah, ye re awake, said a deep voice beside her. Robbins blinked in surprise and turned her head. Paddy Casey smiled at her. How are ye then, darlin ? Mm, she said, licked her lips and tried again. You should call me lieutenant, Robbins told him trying to look aloof. How are ye then, Lieutenant darlin ? he obliged. She fought it, but Cynthia couldn t help the smile. Then she remembered. Her arm seemed too heavy to lift, so she turned her head and looked down. The wrist was bandaged, but she could see the contours of a presurgical nerve regeneration unit. It would keep the nerves in her wrist functional and receptive while blocking pain impulses. Without it a synthetic hand like Commander Reader s would be impossible. Her eyes filled with tears. She closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure, but a sob welled up in her chest and broke through her reserve. Paddy was beside her in an instant. He took her in his big arms and gently stroked her hair. It s good to cry, he said. The very best thing for ye. Cry it all out now, dearling. He dropped a kiss on top of her head. There, there. She was so surprised that she stopped weeping with a little hiccup. She sniffed and said plaintively, You shouldn t . . . Lieutenant dearling, he amended. He loosened his hold and smiled down at her. That was a brief storm, Paddy observed. She choked up for a moment, then got herself under control. Not the last, though, Cynthia said. She pulled away from him and he left the bed and sat down on the chair beside it. What are you doing here, Chief? Paddy, he said. Chief Paddy, she said with a small curve to her lips. He grinned. Ye re a maddening woman, Lieutenant. I m here because I thought ye might like a friend beside ye for awhile. She looked at him for a moment. Hopeful blue eyes, curling red hair, snub
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