Chains of Loss Read Online Free

He flailed about, disoriented, and sank to the bottom.  He had to focus; he couldn’t swim, the suit—and his own body—was far too dense, but it also guaranteed that he was in no danger of drowning.  Mycah didn’t have any such protection; where was she?
    His eyes burned as he tried to look through the water.  Infrared and radar didn't function underwater, and his normal vision was blurred from the pain.  He should’ve had the suit form a visor or some goggles before wading in.  He twisted himself about.  The current was strong enough to push him about, but not enough to carry him.  If he treated it like being in microgravity, would he have more control over his movements? 
    He managed to right himself.  As he did, slender yet strong hands clamped onto his shoulders.  He lurched in surprise, but couldn’t dislodge them. 
    His vision finally cleared.  Mycah was on the river bottom, ignoring the current as she dragged him towards the far side of the river.  Suddenly, there was ground that he could reach.  Her hands relaxed and he stumbled in the soggy ground.  His head broke the surface; the water was only a little over waist deep here.
    She spoke first.  “You can’t swim?”
    He shook his head as the suit retracted.  “I’ve never seen so much water.”
    “Where the hell are you from, anyway?”
    Derek hesitated.  He didn’t know what he could tell her that she’d consider plausible.  “Another world.”
    “I'd guessed.  'What planet is this?'”
    Derek shifted his weight and the soft ground gave way beneath him, nearly throwing him back into the water.  He forced his way to the shore.  “We’re safe, aren’t we?” he asked.
    She didn’t look at him.  “We’ve probably lost the orcs, but they aren’t the only thing in the wilds.”
    “Where are we?”
    She didn’t look back.  “Earth.  I already told you that.”
    When she didn't elaborate, he sighed and started trudging after her.
    They walked for hours, with an admonition to save his breath as her only response to any of his questions.  They finally stopped in a small hollow, after the sun set.
    “Orcs don’t like the dark,”  Mycah explained, “and I’m tired.”
    Derek nodded.  “If you don't mind, then, I have some questions.”
    “We can talk here, but first we need to lay down some rules.  You're new here, right?  You say you know nothing about orcs, right?  Then you'd better trust me and do whatever I say if you want to survive.  If I tell you to be quiet, you be quiet.  You seem like the type who would ask why before shutting up.”  She advanced on him as she spoke, looking him straight in his eyes.  Derek found himself looking away and backing off as she approached.  She paused, eyebrows raised in curiosity.  “What's wrong with you?  Look at me when I'm talking.”
    He swallowed and forced himself to look her in the eye, then looked away.  He tried again, and did his best to hold her gaze.  “Sorry.  My people don't do—this—often.” he said lamely.
    “This?  This what?  Talk?”
    How to explain it to her?  She'd taken things in stride so far.  Derek decided to just throw the truth at her and see how she did at catching it.
    “My people—most of them—have cybernetic augments which allow for radio-telepathic communication, which is what we use for most real-world interactions.  Audible, normal speech is unofficially reserved for formal occasions, singing, emergencies, or communication within a family.  We rarely speak aloud, especially not with strangers.  It's...rude.”
    Mycah just glared at him, mouth open.  “I understood some of that.  Your people don't talk, you use something else.  Sorcery?”
    “N-no.  Technology.  See, I'm a cyborg, and--”
    He was cut short by a gruff laugh.  “You’re a cyborg.”  She looked him up and down.  “You don't look like...Hell.”  She stopped, staring at his feet.  He’d begun to sink again.
    “What?” 
    “How