Quantum Read Online Free Page B

obvious—no survivors.
    The captain admiral abandoned the survival packs and joined in on searching the medical supplies.
    “There are so many things missing from these packs, it’s bordering on ridiculous.” He threw down the bag he’d been holding and stood, shooting a brief glance at Nazari and Jaren. While Nazari watched with a pensive expression, Jaren seemed to be in pain but trying to hide it.
    “Give me inventory on what we have, Petros.” The captain admiral’s voice had a tight quality to it that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
    “Okay. Without any type of scanner, we’ve got no way of diagnosing injuries. Plus, we’ve got no multifunction remedial device, so we can’t repair any wounds.”
    He shot her a flat look. “I thought I asked for what we do have.”
    She pulled some bandages out of the medical pack and a small kit containing a needle and thread for repairing clothes from the survival bag. She held them up, but the admiral stared at her blankly.
    “You ever stitched anything before?” She tossed him the bandages and dug out more.
    “ Stitches? Jezus, Lieutenant, that’s barbaric.”
    She shrugged and ripped open a pack of gauze. “Once upon a time, people didn’t have MRDs. And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have a few barbaric stitches than bleed to death before the rescue team arrives.”
    He sighed and opened the sewing kit. “What about the other two?”
    She glanced over at where Nazari and the AS officer talked quietly, though the conversation seemed pretty one-sided, with the sergeant trying to coax a few words out of the young man.
    “They’ll be fine for a few minutes. My priority right now is you.” She looked back to find him sending her a half grin.
    “I’m your priority, huh?”
    Clearly he found that amusing, except he had no idea that her reasons for being concerned about his welfare weren’t anything like he thought. To keep up this charade, however, she had to make sure she treated him like he would expect of an admiral’s assistant. While she might be unsure of his human status, she couldn’t let the possibility he might be an alien make her skittish, despite the chills crawling under her skin at the thought of it. Outwardly, however, she’d keep herself cool and collected, and most importantly, straitlaced IPC professional right down the line.
    “It’s in my job description, sir .” Her fake job, anyway. “Would you like me to recite the terms and conditions for you?”
    He made a face. “You memorized the terms and conditions of your position? Hell, Petros, you need to lighten up a bit. And no, I don’t want to hear them…unless you think I need to be knocked out for these stitches you plan on inflicting on me.”
    “You’re a big tough admiral—I’m sure you won’t feel a thing.” She shuffled forward and took out a sanitized wipe, cleaning away as much of the blood from around the wound along his hairline as she could. Even as she wiped, new blood welled and dripped along the side of his face.
    The gash could hint at a more serious injury, but without the medical scanner, she had no way of knowing whether the abrasion was superficial or not. He didn’t seem to be displaying signs of concussion or anything more concerning.
    Rian had told her Reidar were more resilient than humans, and his injury seemed to hardly bother him. If he was human, a severe head trauma should have knocked him unconscious or resulted in other complications. Was this a hint she should be taking note of?
    When she’d met up with Rian, he’d told her that Graydon had taken a hit from a pulse rifle that should have put him down. Some veterans had become fairly immune to the stun effects of pulse fire. So, had Graydon simply become one of those soldiers who couldn’t be knocked out by a pulse, or was his lack of reaction due to being not quite human? Damn it. All this guessing and analyzing was aggravating.
    “Are you ready?” She put the unhelpful churn of