Caledonia lifted her hand as Triple had, placing her own palm against the girl’s. At that, Triple gave a satisfied smile and turned again to her work. The gesture was there and gone, but the meaning was clear: Triple would only touch Caledonia if she agreed to be touched.
“I’ll need to get under your shirt, and this will definitely hurt, but it shouldn’t last too long.”
With gentle hands, Triple lifted Caledonia’s shirt and carefully began to remove the old bandage. She gave a series of displeased hums as she worked that were clearly, if not overtly, directed at her patient. Hime would have chided Caledonia harshly for ruining her stitches and making things worse than they needed to be. She could imagine just how Hime’s delicate features would draw to a point as she addressed Caledonia.
Captain, I do not put stitches in your skin for my enjoyment! Do not make me do it again. I may choose not to! she’d sign, placing precise stitches before her even as her shoulders hunched with irritation.
The thought brought a sad smile to Caledonia’s lips.
“I’m sorry I ripped your stitches,” Caledonia said over her shoulder.
Triple responded with a disapproving “Hmmm.” And then added, “It hurt you more than it did me, but apology accepted. I’ll apply the patch on three. Ready?”
Caledonia almost stopped her to ask what it would feel like, then thought better of it. She nodded. “Ready.”
“One, two, three.”
The patch went on with a cooling vibration, like cold silk humming against her skin. It was such a soothing sensation that Caledonia relaxed. Just as she was beginning to breathe easier, the sensation turned sharp and prodding, as though a hundred needles had stabbed her at once. She cried out.
“I’m here.” Triple’s voice was confident and calming. “It won’t last too long. Here’s my hand. Breathe.”
Caledonia did her best to follow these instructions as the needles pierced her again and again for several long minutes until finally the cooling vibration returned. She drew a deeper breath and opened her eyes.
Triple sat on the cot facing her, Caledonia’s hand still clenched in her own. Her wide eyes were a hazel green, and for the first time, Caledonia saw that one side of her head was shaved nearly down to the skin while the rest of her hair moved in and out of braids that cascaded over one shoulder.
“There. Not too bad, right?”
“Bad enough.” Caledonia’s voice sounded hoarse. She was still weak, but she could already feel the difference in her body. Though far from comfortable, the patch had done its work well, inducing her body to move through the healing process at an accelerated rate.
“In another hour, your ankle will be worse than that stab wound. I don’t have anything for that except continued compression and rest.”
“Thank you,” Caledonia said, voice genuine. “I know how rare nanopatches are. I appreciate you spending one on me.”
“Thank Sledge.” Triple scooted around to check Caledonia’s wound before helping her sit back against the pillow. “He risked a lot to get that patch. I just know how to use it.”
Caledonia reached for the glass of water by her cot and took a long drink. She shouldn’t care what he risked getting the patch. She hadn’t asked him to, after all. But she couldn’t help herself. “What do you mean he risked a lot?” she asked.
“Anytime we need something like that we have to go to the colonies.” Triple watched her shrewdly as she spoke. “And anytime we go into the colonies, we risk our safety.”
“Why?”
“Because.” She hesitated. “Because even though most of us were born there, the colonists fear Aric more than they want us back. If they even want us back.”
“What do you mean?” She couldn’t imagine being so close to her family and not being with them. She would—and had—done everything in her power to try to free her brother from Aric’s army.
“I mean we’re already lost to them. In their minds, the damage is done. If they thought they could save a few of their children by returning us to the Father, then that’s what they’d do. So we keep our distance. Only go near one of the colonies when we have no other choice.”
“So you aren’t trading with them.”
Triple regarded her coolly.
“No,” she said. “We aren’t trading with the people who would likely take us prisoner and return us to the life we’ve just escaped.”
“You stole it.”
“We stole it.” Triple’s answer was unashamed.
The colonists lost more than nanopatches on a regular basis. Between conscriptions, they shouldn’t have to worry about this kind of thievery. Yet these Bullets were still taking from them. Whatever they needed. And in this instance, it had been what she needed.
“Once a Bullet . . .” she said, guilt and resentment turning in her gut.
Triple stood abruptly, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and turned a cutting glare on Caledonia.
“We’re not Bullets. We’re Blades. We belong to ourselves and ourselves alone. We’re sharp and flexible and nothing like the things Aric Athair forced us to be. You can judge us all you want, Caledonia, but if you refuse to see that we are more than these scars on our bodies, then you’re more like Aric than we are. That’s on you.”
Triple’s eyes were alight, her cheeks flushed. She was fully alive, fully rooted in her own strength and convictions, and Caledonia knew immediately that she’d spoken carelessly. In spite of having two defected Bullets on her own crew—Hime and Oran—she continued to make this mistake. She had reacted to the idea of Triple as a Bullet rather than the complicated, compassionate girl before her.
“And for what it’s worth, we give back to them when we can. Here and there. They might not know where it comes from, but meat cooks the same on any fire.”
With some effort, Caledonia swung her legs off the cot and lowered her feet to the floor, then very carefully stood on her own. Triple watched.
“You’re right,” Caledonia said sincerely. “I apologize. You’ve spent a good deal of time saving my life, and I have no business showing you disrespect.”
They stood eye-to-eye. Triple’s breathing was quick, her posture defensive after Caledonia’s remark, but she nodded.
Before either of them could speak again, the tent flap was pulled aside and replaced with a mountain. Sledge stood in the entryway with a plate of food in his hands.
One eyebrow lifted at the sight of the two girls standing so close in the middle of the room. “I can come back?”