Maria sighed. "David—" she began.
"Wait, hear me out. I love you, Maria. You're the love of my life. I know that you have feelings for Jon, but I ask you now: Choose me. Be mine. And I promise to love the hell out of you forever."
Maria wiped a tear from her eye. She had to break his heart now. And hers broke a little too.
"David." She placed a hand on his cheek. "I love Jon. I'm married to him."
David flinched. "You… you're married?"
"Not officially. Not with a priest. The girls performed a little ceremony in the Go Go Cowgirl. Charlie officiated, a bed sheet wrapped around her like a robe, a little mustache painted above her lip. It was all quite silly, but also quite real to us. What matters is our vows, not some piece of paper. Jon and I love each other, and are husband and wife. You're amazing, David. You're brave and kind and wonderful. In another life, it might have worked between us."
David nodded. He looked at his feet. "I understand. I've always been the gangly, pimply outcast. The weirdo. The nerd."
"That's not true!" Maria kissed his cheek. "You're very handsome, and very tall, and I bet all the other girls on Bahay are chasing you."
David took the codechip from her. He closed his fist around it. "Jon is a good, honorable man. And this is a good, honorable fight. I'll take this codechip to him. And if I can, I'll help him fight for a wormhole generator. I'll get this done. We'll end this war." His eyes dampened, and his voice softened. "If I don't make it back, Maria, let these be my last words to you: I love you. Forever and unconditionally."
He paid for the tea, then left her at the table.
Maria stayed for a long time, drinking colorful tea, lost in thought.
Chapter Thirty
Sand and Steel
The roof was just a hot steel sheet, rusty and dented, held down by tires. Maria stood on it, thankful for the shoes the general had bought her. Otherwise the steel would burn her feet—and probably give her tetanus. The sun beat down over the city, and Maria gazed north. Waiting for him.
For her Jon.
The city sprawled before her. Happy Mountain rose ahead, the city's landfill, dotted with shanties and crawling with the poorest of the poor. Merkado Bayan bustled with life, home to thousands of shops, its vendors hawking everything from tangy pineapples to murderous androids. The Shadow Market buzzed under the bridges, a place of magic and myth, selling charms, spells, or a glimpse into the future. The Blue Boulevard sparkled with neon, garish even under the punishing sunlight, a haven of forbidden pleasures. The Blue Boulevard too was a marketplace; here was where you bought flesh. The concrete towers of New Manila soared along the coast, the wealthiest neighborhood in the city—unless you included Little Earth, which Maria could just see in the west.
Mindao. Home to millions. Her home. The pulsing heartbeat of her planet and dreams.
Maria raised her eyes and gazed beyond the city. She looked toward the northern haze, and she prayed for her husband.
"Send my message to Earth, Jon," she whispered into the wind. "It will shatter your soul. But you must send it. And you must return to me." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I miss your strong arms around me. I miss feeling safe in your embrace. I miss your smile. I love you, Jon Taylor. Come back to me. Promise you'll come back."
A hand touched her shoulder, and Maria nearly leaped out of her skin.
"Oh, don't worry, Nini. He'll come back for you. You intoxicate all the boys with your pretty smile, you know."
Maria spun around. "Pippi, you gave me a heart attack, sneaking up on me like that. I almost fell off the roof."
Pippi popped her bubble gum and grinned. "Everyone knows I'm sneaky."
Maria rolled her eyes. "Pippi, with your crazy red pigtails, tattooed freckles, and those ridiculous striped stockings, you stand out like a frog on a plate of lumpia. Not to mention that you're always humming and loudly chewing your bubble gum. You're the least sneaky person there is. I'm just… distracted."
Pippi hugged her. "Aw, sweet Holy Maria. Jon will come back to you, I know it. Until then, I'll cheer you up. I'm here for you. Always."
Maria smiled and wiped her eyes. "Thank you, Pippi. You're a good friend."
The bargirl bristled. "What?" She gasped. "I'm not your best friend?"
Maria laughed. "You and Charlie can fight it out."
Pippi snorted. "Charlie is thirty-three years old. She's more like our mom than our friend." She counted on her fingers. "Well, if my mom were only ten years older than me, that is."
Maria's eyes widened. "Charlie told me she was only thirty!"
"She tells that to everyone." Pippi snorted. "She's been saying that for years now. Hell, for all I know, she's a million." She heaved a sigh. "You know, bargirls don't have long careers. In a few years, she'll be too old. And she's scared. She has four kids to feed. And no father around."
Maria placed her hand on her swelling belly. "I hope my child's father returns soon."
Sudden horror struck her. Jon dying in the war. Her child born here in the slums. Growing up in the shantytowns. If her child was a girl, would that girl grow up to become a bargirl? A prostitute?
No, Jon will come back for me, Maria told herself. He'll take me to Earth. We'll live in our cozy house among trees. In the summer, we'll play with our daughter at the park. In the winter, we'll drink hot cocoa by the fireplace. We'll be a real family.
"Maria, come on." Pippi held her hand. "As your official best friend, I want to take you on a day out. A fun day! Just the two of us. No stress, no work, no war, just best friends having fun, okay?"
Maria lowered her head. "I don't know if I can have fun anymore. I used to have fun as a child. But my parents burned to death. My village was destroyed. I've suffered so much. My soul is broken, and maybe I can never enjoy life again."
"Well aren't you a barrel of laughs." Pippi rolled her eyes. "Come on, you whiner. I suffered just as much in the war, you know. My family was also killed, but that doesn't mean I've given up on life. Or that I can't have fun. Come on!" She pulled Maria's hand. "We're having fun today or we die trying."
They hurried down the street, holding hands. At a nearby kiosk, Pippi bought them cups of sweet halo halo topped with ice cream. They hired a jeepney, its dented body painted with a thousand birds and butterflies, and rode toward the sea. Thousands of refugees, squatters, and orphans made their home along the beach, some sleeping in makeshift huts, others in the open.
Along the coast, the jeepney ended its route, and the girls hailed down a rickshaw. Its runner, a handsome young man with messy black hair, flashed them a grin, teeth sparkling white.
"Hey, Maria!"
Maria laughed. "Jay Jay! I thought you just worked New Manila."
The young man still wore his cheap purple sunglasses. "Hey, I'm everywhere, you know. Just got a fifth rickshaw for my business. And I finally opened my bar! Come for a drink sometime!" He turned toward Pippi. "And who are you, gorgeous? Did you know I own five rickshaws and a bar?"
Pippi blew him a kiss. "Call me when you own a spaceship to Earth, sweetheart."
"Ouch!" He pressed his hands against his heart. "You wound me." But he was still grinning.
They paid him handsomely and climbed onto his rickshaw. Jay Jay peddled, chatting all the while about his business ventures and dreams. He pulled them across the sand, between thousands of people, past the last few concrete buildings, and finally out to an open beach.
"Hey, remember to visit Hollywood Dreams, right off Merkado Bayan," he said. "First round of drinks on me!"
Maria kissed his cheek. "I will, Jay Jay. I'm happy for you."
"And I won't forget about you, gorgeous," Jay Jay said to Pippi. "Next time we meet, I'll have that spaceship."
Pippi blew him a kiss. "I look forward to it, darling."
Jay Jay winked, slapped his rickshaw, and left the girls on the beach.
This place, just a few miles outside the city, was a different world. Gone were the fumes of smog and tra
sh, the rumble of engines, the hissing of cats, the endless buzz of humanity crammed into a pen. The beach spread out before the two friends. Finally, after so long in the ghetto—open space.
Pippi began to undress.
Maria gasped. "Pippi, what are you doing? I can see your dibdibs!"
Her friend grinned. "Skinny dipping! I promised you a fun day, remember?" She wriggled out of her shorts. "Come on, join me."
"I will not!" Maria's cheeks heated. "I'm shy."
"Oh, please, you danced for the pute generals. You can skinny dip with me."
"I'll just get my clothes wet," Maria said. She was wearing a summer dress, billowy enough to cover her swelling belly.
Pippi rolled her eyes. "Oh, you really are a saint."
They swam, splashed one another, and gossiped about which pop stars were the most handsome. Pippi championed Joey Rivera, a Bahayan crooner, while Maria chose Tristan, a mononymous pop singer from Earth, famous for his silky voice, blue eyes, and traditional pop covers.
"Oh, you just have white fever," Pippi said and splashed her. "First Jon, now that pretty boy Tristan. You're addicted!"
Maria laughed. "I'm not! I just think Tristan has a nice voice."
"Sure, sure, and his pale skin and blue eyes have nothing to do with it, I'm sure." Pippi sighed. "Well, you have a type. Most people do. Why do you think I look like this?" She gestured at her face.
"You're beautiful," Maria said.
Pippi nodded. "Of course you'd say that. I make myself look like an Earthling. I dye my hair red, and I wear it in pigtails with ribbons. I even tattooed freckles. I call myself Pippi, though my real name is Angelica Lopez." She shrugged. "Everyone wants to look like an Earthling, to marry an Earthling, to become an Earthling. So I play along."
"That's not true!" Maria said. "I'm proud of being Bahayan. And Jon loves me the way I am, even though my skin is brown, and I'm short, and I don't look like an Earthling girl. And the general liked me too, and…"
She let her voice trail off. She didn't feel like talking about that now.
For a moment, they were silent, standing in the water.
Pippi held Maria's hands. "Things will be okay, my friend. I'll look after you. Charlie and all the other girls will too. We have a new family now."
Maria smiled tremulously. "It's a good family. Pippi, I'm sorry. About your village. And your old family there."
Pippi lowered her head. "I miss him. Every day. My son."
Something cold and soft filled Maria. She touched her friend's cheek. "Oh, Pippi, I had no idea."
"He died in the bombings," Pippi said. "He was only two years old. And…" Her tears flowed. "I tell myself that it happened to somebody else. That I'm not Angelica Lopez anymore. That I'm just Pippi, the silly bargirl from Mindao. That none of these tragedies happened to my life. That I can forget. But I can't, Maria." She let out a sob. "I can't forget."
Maria embraced her. "Nor should you, my dear friend. We'll never forget the fallen. Ever. We'll always cherish their memory. And we'll always fight in their honor."
A smile broke through Pippi's grief. She kissed Maria on the cheek. "God, Maria, I wish I liked girls instead of boys, because you're so cute and I could just marry you."
Maria laughed. "I'm not sure Jon would like that."
"Who cares?" Pippi splashed her. "I'm willing to fight for you."
Maria gasped and splashed her back. "So why are you splashing me?"
"It's fun!"
They splashed each other for a while, laughing, then swam in the water, and finally collapsed onto the shore. They lay there, watching the waves, until the stars emerged. Instead of returning to the city, they slept on the beach, nestling together, seeking some comfort from pain, some love in a world of so much hate.
"You're my best friend, Pippi," Maria whispered. "I love you."
Pippi's eyes were closed, but she cuddled closer to Maria and mumbled, "Shut up, idiot, I'm sleeping." She smiled. "I love you too, you stupid best friend."
Maria smiled. "This was my best day since Jon left. Thank you."
They lay on the sand as the waves whispered, and they slept until the dawn.
Chapter Thirty-One
Maria's Message
Jon was guarding the hilltop when the dying soldier ran toward him, gasping for air and calling his name.
An Earthing, Jon realized with a gasp.
And the man was running through the jungle. Through enemy territory.
For weeks now, Jon had been guarding this hill, waiting for the enemy to attack. The last thing he had expected was to see a fellow Earthling burst from the rainforest. Jon was so edgy he almost shot the poor bastard.
Not that much had happened here lately. Actually, since the Battle of Camp Apollo, Jon had mostly been bored. For weeks now, he and his platoon camped on this hill in North Bahay, guarding it for God knew what reason. Probably the army didn't know what else to do with them.
It was peaceful here, as much as North Bahay could be peaceful. Sometimes they saw planes overhead. Sometimes they heard explosions in the distance. Sometimes they saw refugees fleeing south along the jungle trails. But mostly Jon and his platoon just sat around.
They listened to the birds. They ate their dwindling battle rations. And they waited to die.
Yes, Jon had come to accept that. He would most likely die in this war. The Red Cardinal was still alive. The Luminous Army, whispered the rumors, was growing stronger every day. Sooner or later, everyone was saying, the big push would come. The hosts of Earth and Bahay would clash again.
Jon had been lucky so far. He had survived several battles. Surigao Hill. Basilica. Camp Apollo. Not to mention countless skirmishes along the road north. Those battles had claimed most of his friends. A deep chill in his belly warned him that his luck was running out. Surviving a fourth battle seemed like pushing his luck.
Was it any wonder that he now raised his rifle, aimed it at the running figure, nearly shot the poor bugger?
"Jon!" gasped the Earthling, running uphill. "Private Jon Taylor!"
He was tall, gangly sort, all elbows and knees and bony shoulders. His battlesuit hung in tatters, armored plates flaking like old scabs. Blood dripped from wounds across his torso. His helmet's visor had shattered, revealing a stubbly, grimy face, half of it scarred. He was young. Probably not much older than twenty, a young enlisted soldier from Anytown, Earth, lost in the alien jungle.
Jon glanced back toward his camp. The rest of his platoon was a few hundred yards away, lounging among the trees on the shady hillside.
"George, you read me?" Jon spoke into his comlink.
"Ayup, buddy," came George's voice. "Bill here caught some big furry animal in the forest. Looks like an alien bear or something. He wants to skin and cook it, but the thing stinks to high heavens. Say, you know anything about Bahayan animals that look like—"
"George, I'm going to need a medic up here. I've got a wounded soldier. He just popped out the jungle. One of our boys. He's all banged up and bleeding."
"Ten-four," George said. "I'm sending Doc up there."
The wounded Earthling was still climbing through the jungle, calling to Jon.
Jon wanted to run and help. But he hesitated. Could this be a trap? A way to lure him off the hilltop and into ambush?
"Jon Taylor, I have…" The soldier coughed. "For you…" He fell.
"Goddammit," Jon muttered.
He might regret this. Maybe he was stepping into a trap. But dammit, the man below was dying. Jon couldn't just stand there.
He left his post. He ran through the jungle toward the wounded soldier.
"Get here soon, Doc," he mumbled, shoving his way through the brush.
He reached the man. He read the name on the dog tags.
DAVID MOTT, PRIVATE
"I need… Jon." David coughed. "I'm looking for Private Jon Taylor."
David struggled back to his feet, but he swayed. Jon had to catch him. He gently laid the lanky private on the
forest floor. The wounds didn't look deep, but they might have been bleeding for a long while.
"Well, I'm Sergeant Jon Taylor," Jon said. "I've been promoted quickly, though. I was a corporal just a few months ago, a private not long before that. That happens when your commanders keep getting blown up. Am I the guy you're looking for?"
David reached up and grasped Jon. "Yes. Yes, it's you. She described you. Tall but shorter than me. Black hair. Blue eyes. It's you."
Jon frowned. "Who? Who described me?"
But David began coughing again. Damn it, there was no time for chit chat, and no time to wait for Doc. Jon began unstrapping David's armored uniform, or what remained of it, which was mostly just loose chunks of ceramic armor and sticky, bloody fabric.
Jon cringed.
Okay. Yeah, those wounds were bad. Worse than Jon had thought. David had suffered deep gashes and a bullet hole. They oozed pus.
"Jon…" David's skin was ashen, his voice fading. "I've been running for a long time. Through the jungle and wasteland. All the way from Mindao. She sent me to find you. I had to come. The Kalayaan ambushed me. Hurt me. But I kept going."
"Who sent you?" Jon said. He pulled a bandage from his pocket—a thick piece of gauze—and slapped it onto a deep cut. It probably wasn't doing much good. The damn wound was infected. Jon could see the insect eggs inside.
Come on, Doc, where are you?
"Maria," David whispered, and his face became wistful, as if speaking her name soothed the pain. "Holy Maria, saint of lost souls."
Jon gasped. "Maria…"
David smiled. "She saved me once. When I was a prisoner of the Kalayaan. She saved me from Ernesto and his horrible iron. She saved my life. It's fitting that I now give my life for her cause." He pulled a plastic bag from his pocket, handed it to Jon. "Here. This is for you. From her. I traveled through the fire to bring it to you."
Jon accepted the gift. The plastic bag was bloodstained. When Jon wiped it down, he saw a codechip inside. A small electronic device, no larger than a matchbox, which could contain vast amounts of data. He wasn't sure what he was expecting. A lock of Maria's hair? A love letter with the mark of her lips? Certainly not this.
Earthling's War (Soldiers of Earthrise Book 3) Page 25
