Exodus: Tales of The Empire: Book 2: Beasts of the Frontier. Read Free

ran off a device that pulled O2 from the atmosphere, as
scarce as it might be, and compressed and stored it.   If he didn’t have any
more battery power, the unit would stop operation, and he would only have what
was in the tank, along with the twelve hour reserve given him by the emergency
nanobubbles in his blood stream.  He tried to link in to the rig’s computer
with his implant and hit a blank wall.  The computer was down, which wasn’t
surprising if the batteries were dead.
    Dang looked down
at the ground.  His rig had a winch that would have lowered him to the ground,
but without power it was just more weight.  The hundred meters of thin cord
might still be useful though.  After climbing down the branches, stifling cries
of pain, to the point where there were no more limbs, he found himself still
looking at a twenty meter drop to the ground that had minimal snow cover. 
Pulling eighteen meters of line from the tiny winch, a cord that would cut
through his hands if not for his gloves, Dang tied it around the trunk and
belayed the rest of the line down.  Next, checking to make sure none of the
line contacted bare flesh, he rappelled down from the tree.  Even with the
nanite pain blocks, everything hurt.  He almost considered ordering a complete
nerve block, changing his mind as he thought about the trouble he would have
with no feeling in his body.  At two meters up one of his hands lost its grip,
and he released with the other to keep from getting tangled up.
    “Crap,” he
yelled as he hit the ground, going into a roll to take up the shock, the pain
from his left ankle and calf rushing up his spine.   He lay there for a few
minutes, collecting himself, using his implants and the nanites to search his
injuries.  He cursed under his breath as the break in his ankle appeared on the
image in his mind.  Sitting up, he crawled on his buttocks until his back was
against the tree. Then ran his fingers down his boot to unseal it.  The
foot-gear opened up and slid easily off, and Dang ran his fingers over the
ankle.  The image had shown a break of a simple nature, and when his fingers
ran over the tender outer flesh he verified what the internal diagnostics
systems had told him.
    The boot went
back on his foot, and a little manipulation of the seam caused it to tighten
around his ankle, forming a cast that would allow him to walk.  That done, he
limped around and gathered some dead wood, building a fire and pulling out the
laser lighter that still sat in his upper jacket pocket.  Soon there was a
roaring fire going, warming at least the part of his body facing the flames. 
He then proceeded to go about checking the rest of his gear.
    The battery pack
had some claw marks in it, but no penetrations of the tough nanocarbon fiber
box.  The computer was the same.  Most of his electronics were housed in black
box type technology that would take a major weapon hit to breach.  So the radio
should have survived as well, and when he found it, he found that it had, to a
point.  The radio’s box was still intact, but the wire pack running out had
been severed at its attachment point.  The radio had been cut off from its
power source, and now there was no power source to energize it.  Two of the six
lifting units of the rig had been crushed by the jaws of the bear that had
mauled him.  Their cases were made of much thinner material in order to save
weight.  Too thin, and though the unit wasn’t breached, the circuitry inside
had been broken.
    The last thing
he checked was the first thing he should have.  His rifle was gone, and the
spare proton packs he had were useless without it.  The pouch containing spare
power packs was ripped open, and all the packs gone.  So no way of using them
to power the radio.  His mag rail pistol was still in its holster, and the
spare packs were still in their pockets, attached to the gun carrier.  No spare
batteries for it.  It had been the plan to use the power packs