Chapter 984: Three Breaths Through The Flute

Kegaku pulled against his chest strap until the bed rolled toward the platform edge. Kieran caught the wheel with her boot. He had been watching the bone hand in the loading hatch and forgotten the drop beside his own head.

"Tell me where you want the bed before you send it under the train."

He pointed across the gap to the isolated repair bay. Three people hung sideways from a freight post inside its open hatch. The nearest man’s cup lifted five times, then sagged against his mouth while the hand holding it searched for a better grip.

"That man needs air before anyone tries lifting him. Bring the case where he can see it."

Kieran kept her foot against the wheel. She looked from the flute to his hand, then bent to release the bed’s outer brake. JJ helped turn him toward the bay while Vey’s people laid a plank across the broken threshold.

The sponsor worker was trying to close the hatch. Fenn caught its lower edge with her hook and dragged him away from the handle by his coat. His board fell between the freight track and the floor. He stamped on a service pedal before the post could drag the board into its rollers. The track stopped, leaving him braced over the brake.

JJ stepped onto the plank and called to the bone hand.

"Ty, if that’s you, lift your thumb where I can see it. Keep the cup against his face."

The thumb rose. With the remaining fingers, the hand rolled the cup back under the man’s chin. JJ put her good hand against the bay wall and stayed there for a breath before waving the first stretcher forward.

Kegaku tried to sit higher. Pain pulled beneath his collar, and the strap across his ribs stopped him. He would be blowing from the bed, if Kieran let him touch the flute at all.

She opened the case across his knees. The braces had split when they emptied, leaving edges that caught the lining. Gold still covered the command holes. He reached toward the lower section, then rested his hand on the blanket instead.

"Hold it for me. Keep my fingers off the holes."

Kieran turned the damaged mouthpiece toward him. "I keep them covered even if you decide an open hole would make this easier."

He nodded. Her scar had pulled her arm toward Jade because of his fingers. She had reason to watch them now, and he had work that could be done with his hand lying still.

JJ returned with the ceramic locator. It dragged her wrist toward the loading hatch, hard enough to knock against the bed rail. She held its supplier face beside the open brace while Kegaku drew a breath.

His first note came out thin. Air escaped through the broken join and cooled his upper lip. Kieran pushed the sections together, using the case hinge to support them. He tried again without lifting his hand.

A square opened above the brace. Brown grit scattered across his blanket, followed by the end of a reed hose. Ivro caught the hose on the other side and pulled it back before its metal end struck Kegaku’s mouth.

"Your balance still stands at one hundred twelve measures. What have you broken this time?"

Kegaku let the note die. JJ held the locator in place, leaving the square open only as wide as the flute case. Through it he could see Sava carrying a folded bag toward Ivro’s shoulder.

"Three people are trapped beside us. Can you feed a cup without moving their hands or their breathing for them?"

Ivro leaned to look past the bed. The man in the hatch missed his sixth breath again. Beside him, another passenger was trying to hold a damaged shoulder against the post. The third used both hands to keep their straps from sliding toward the track rollers.

Sava put the bag down before Ivro answered. She connected a short hose to it and pressed a valve with her thumb. The bag expanded against the platform boards beneath her knees.

"Three transfer bags cost three measures. They draw from them themselves, and you keep the delivery note steady. We add the cost to the instrument."

Kegaku agreed before Kieran lifted the flute. Those three measures would leave them owing one hundred fifteen, and at least he could keep count of this use.

Kieran looked at the gold caps. Kegaku watched her check each one before she brought the mouthpiece back. His right hand remained on the blanket, curled loosely enough for everyone to see the palm.

JJ went to the hatch with the hose. She held its end where the man with the cup could see it and waited. The bone hand moved one finger aside; the man turned his head away.

JJ stopped reaching.

The passenger beside him spoke through clenched teeth. "Tovan thinks you’re going to take his cup. Leave it on him and show him where the tube goes."

She crouched until her face was level with Tovan’s. Holding the hose beside the existing feed, she traced its route back to the bag. Tovan watched her finger. When she touched the connection again, he raised his own hand and guided it toward the inlet.

Kegaku put his lips to the flute. The tube trembled between Kieran’s hands as he found the note. Through the square, Sava lowered the filled bag into JJ’s reach and held the return hose until the connection sealed.

The cup expanded beneath Tovan’s fingers. His sixth breath came while everyone was still waiting for it to fail.

Kegaku ran out of air halfway through the next note. Kieran lowered the flute immediately. The bag held enough air to keep feeding while he swallowed and tried again. He concentrated on the metal edge against his lip, keeping his breaths shallow enough to fit beneath the strap.

Vey put two men on ropes beside the hatch. The freight post lay across their view like a beam fixed halfway up a wall. One rescuer leaned into it and fell sideways before his partner caught the rope around the door handle.

Fenn dragged him back by his belt. They shortened the line, tried with only an arm across, and brought their first stretcher through on edge.

JJ called to the men holding the stretcher. "Tovan comes out with the cup and the hand. Keep them together when his weight changes."

The unnamed passenger unfastened Tovan’s upper strap while the men held the stretcher beneath him. His weight landed against their arms rather than its bed. They rotated it inch by inch, bringing his head through first with the bag tucked beside his ear.

Once his shoulders crossed the hatch, he dropped onto the canvas. The rope took the jolt. Ty’s hand spread across the cup, keeping it sealed until Tovan could hold it himself.

Kegaku lost the note at the impact. He swallowed against a cough and waited for Kieran to offer the flute again. She checked his face before lifting it.

Across the plank, two clinic workers carried Tovan with the bag beside his ear. He kept hold of the cup while the bone hand climbed to the stretcher rail and clung there, its thumb pressed flat beneath a strap.

Inside the hatch, the injured passenger gave his name as Dessel. He let JJ fit the hose from a second bag beneath the support at his jaw, then pointed to his shoulder before the rescuers touched him.

"Lift from my belt. That arm comes apart if you pull it."

They used a folded coat beneath his ribs and brought him out feet first. The third passenger stayed at the post until Dessel cleared it, keeping one strap tight against a buckle that had begun slipping beneath his weight.

The loading hatch began to descend against Fenn’s hook.

Kegaku blew harder. Kieran pulled the mouthpiece away before the pressure could rise through the bags. He stared at her, angry with the lost second, until she pointed to the hatch mechanism. The flute had nothing to do with the falling door.

He drew a smaller breath. Across the gap, Vey and the sponsor worker caught the handle together and hauled it up. Fenn shifted the hook beneath a higher notch.

The last passenger released the strap and took the rescuer’s offered wrist. He landed on his knees beside Dessel, coughing, and nodded when JJ showed him the third bag. She let him fit its cup himself.

Kieran lowered the flute. Kegaku pressed his mouth into the blanket to cough without pulling against the strap. He kept listening to the three bags, afraid he would hear a command in the returning air. All he heard was uneven breathing and Dessel complaining about the coat under his shoulder. The clinic workers brought hand bellows to replace the bags as they emptied.

Ivro held up his slate. Three measures had been added to the unpaid balance.

Kegaku nodded, then pointed him toward JJ, who counted the same three before releasing the locator. Sava disconnected her end. The square narrowed, spilling its last grit over the blanket.

The worker lifted his foot from the service pedal. Buckles scraped along the freight track as the emptied post turned past the hatch. Beneath its base, exposed when the last strap fell away, a clamp held a short brass tube closed with ration cloth.

The sponsor worker reached for the shutter.

Ty’s hand dropped from Tovan’s stretcher, crossed the floor on its fingers, and caught his ankle before he could shut the tube from view.