by Isaac Hooke
“As I told you, I’m married, brother,” Tahoe replied.
“There you go,” Rade said. “See? You’re not ready to let go of Tepin either.”
“No. I’ve let her go,” Tahoe said. “Or least, acknowledged I’m never going to see her again. But I refuse to tarnish the memories I have, and the love I still feel for her, by sleeping with another woman. I can’t bring myself to do it. Even if I’ll never see Tepin again, it still feels like cheating to me. I’ve been devoted to her my entire life. And I remain devoted to her. This is just the way I am. I know it might not fit with the alpha attitude some MOTHs have, men who would drop their wives or girlfriends at the drop of a hat, but I’m not like that. Jiang’s all yours, brother.”
“Well, I guess Pyro will have to step in for me then, because I refuse to tarnish my own memories,” Rade said.
He walked on through the undergrowth in silence.
Into that quietude of crunching branches, Tahoe said: “I miss Tepin so much.” He paused. “Every day, I review our last messages. Sometimes, when I can’t sleep at night, I’ll watch entire archives of footage I’ve saved over the years. I’ll watch my children grow up on camera. And my wife age before my eyes, and then grow young again when she has her rejuvenetics work done. I just wish… no, I’ve already come to terms with my choices in this life.” He paused again. “I was going to say I wish I could have been there more. But I’m over that phase. I was there as much as I could have been. I was the best father I could be. I got us citizenship in the best country in the world. And earned a livable wage so my family could eat. I made the right choice. And the fact that I can’t be there anymore for them isn’t my fault.”
“No, it’s not,” Rade agreed. “It’s mine.”
“Don’t you go and blame yourself for what happened,” Tahoe said. “We had no choice but to flee that starship when those Subversions started emerging. If we had stayed, we’d all be dead now.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Rade said. “Still, as the platoon leader, I bear responsibility for what happened.”
“No,” Tahoe said. “Stop that. Not this time. You’re not going to torture yourself for something that isn’t your fault. I won’t let you.”
Rade sighed. “I know you’re right. But… well, I still feel that way. Just like now, I feel like it’s my duty to get us off this world. I refuse to believe it’s impossible. I know we can find a way in our lifetimes. I just haven’t figured out how yet… ah, Tahoe. Why did this have to happen?”
“The universe always did like to toy with us,” Tahoe said. “We’re used to that by now. Whenever fate throws us a curveball, we hit it right back, straight into the outfield.”
Rade smiled. “I suppose we do. Though sometimes we miss the ball.”
“Sure,” Tahoe said. “But we’ve never gotten three strikes. Not yet.”
“Doesn’t this count?” Rade said.
“No,” Tahoe said. “We’re still alive. That’s what counts, brother. You’ve kept us alive, despite what’s happened to us. And you’ve always been there to give us hope. You’ve been a leader unlike any other. I always knew, even back in training, that you would make a good leader. Because of how you’d go out of your way to protect the rest of us from instructor punishment. I remember the time Alejandro was close to failing… the instructors were punishing us on the grinder, forcing us to do PT for four hours without stopping. We learned that day why the grinder was covered in asphalt: black hides the stains. Men shat themselves, and vomited, as they forced themselves through the latest round of pushups. Men were tapping out on the flintstone left and right.
“One of the instructors noticed Alejandro was flagging, and the a-hole sat on his back to make things harder. He insulted his Mexican heritage, called him a puta and spat in his hair. But then you, oh you did something so spectacular, it still brings tears of pride to my eyes. You were one of the few who hadn’t vomited, or crapped your pants, you were pumping out those pushups as if you had only started. You had nothing to gain by doing what you did. And you did it anyway. In between reps, you turned toward that instructor, and you said: ‘I always knew you were gay, Instructor Arnold.’
“Oh, that did it. The instructor, outraged, stood up, and gave you a kick to the nards that still makes me cringe to this day. ‘What was that, Gay-laal?’ You were in obvious pain, and couldn’t answer. ‘What’s wrong, cat got your tongue? Don’t you dare stop those push-ups, not for an instant, you weak maggot.’ You kept going, fighting through the pain, even as the instructor sat down on your back. He completely forgot about Alejandro. You know, I think that moment, more than anything else, ensured that Alejandro made it through those harsh days. He didn’t want to let you down, not after what you did for him. You were an inspiration to us all… thanks to you, we’d often put our necks on the line to help others in need during the rest of the training. You showed us how to be MOTHs.”
“Thank you for reminding me of that day,” Rade said. “Though in truth, I didn’t actually intend to get kicked in the nards.”
Tahoe laughed. “No, I suppose you didn’t. None of us do.”
“Do you remember I had to see the Weaver shortly after the punishment session ended?” Rade said. “I had some damage…”
“Yeah,” Tahoe said. “A kick like that could kill an ordinary man. But not you.”
Rade smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. You know, brother, talking to you always makes me feel better. Being stuck on this world isn’t so bad, not while you’re here.”
“I feel the same way about you, my brother,” Tahoe said. “I really do.”
18
The days continued to pass. Soon the team had mapped out the city in its entirety, up to the outskirts, where wilderness extended in all directions. They began to take longer day trips, exploring that wilderness.
Rade participated in some of those trips, but stayed behind for others. He continued to talk to Waldo daily, and he began to consider the alien a friend, of sorts. As much as a creature from another world could be considered a friend, anyway. Rade supposed his bond with the alien wasn’t all that different from his bond with Valjean. One was a machine consciousness, the other alien.
One day he found himself alone with Jiang on the rooftop. Thus far he had tried to avoid such an arrangement, because he was worried what might transpire between the two of them, but he had stopped being afraid. She was a friend, nothing more. He could control his sexual desires, just as she could. They were two grown, mature people. Besides, he believed she was sleeping with Pyro.
All of the platoon members had taken to removing their jumpsuits of late when they were inside the rooftop dome, and today was no exception. Rade figured if Waldo wanted to introduce a contagion, the alien would have done it weeks ago via the food supply.
Initially, without the strength enhancements the exoskeletons of their suits provided, he and the others noticed the heavier gravity more readily, and they tired easily. Eventually their bodies adapted, developing more muscle tissue so that these days, Rade and the others hardly felt it.
He had a thick beard by then, like his earlier days when he had gone on missions with a scraggly growth of facial hair, as only special operators were allowed to do. It itched, and he scratched it often. Waldo had begun supplying them with water in addition to MREs, so that the team didn’t have to rely solely on their recycled fluids, and could take actual baths. That was the only way they’d be able to stand each other’s presence after removing the jumpsuits: the smell of feet, ass, and genitalia was not pleasant.
Rade and Jiang were dressed in their freshly washed cooling and ventilation undergarments as they sat together, lounging in the sun near the edge of the dome, looking out at the overgrown streets below. Those blue undergarments were essentially body sheathing, with the sleeves reaching to the wrists and ankles, and the collars climbing up their necks.
The mechs had carved several trails through the foliage, courtesy of their repeated journeys into the
city and beyond, which reminded him of trails crabs might make through sand before the ocean wiped them away. In this case, the jungle would be the ocean, its ever-reaching limbs looking to reclaim the city for its own should Rade or the others ever move on, or otherwise cease their travels into the abandoned city.
“It’s kind of pretty,” Jiang said, as she gazed out upon the overgrown cityscape. She spoke her native tongue, but his Implant translated the words.
“I suppose it is,” Rade agreed.
“Not as pretty as the trees of Szechuan Province, mind you, but still pleasing,” Jiang said.
“Nothing will ever be as pretty as Earth…” Rade told her.
“Of course,” she said. “You know, growing up in Chengdu, I had a privileged life. As the daughter of a Party member, I had so many doors open to me. And yet I chose this path, for some reason. To fight. I went against my family’s wishes, which is why I ended up a mere corporal. Sometimes I wonder if I should have just stayed in intelligence instead. I wouldn’t have lost all my friends. And I wouldn’t have been stranded on this world.” She sighed.
Rade didn’t know what to tell her; he didn’t think anything he could say would comfort her, so instead he stared out at the city before him, at those elliptical buildings covered in trees.
“I can still see their features behind the faceplates, writhing in pain as the aliens tore them apart and perforated their jumpsuits, exposing them to the toxic atmosphere native to the colony,” Jiang said. “When I first saw Waldo, I wanted vengeance. I wanted to find a way to destroy that alien. And I plotted to do that very thing. When we started communicating with the creature, I always listened intently when it came time to talk about the alien physiology. Even asked some pointed questions of my own.”
“I noticed,” Rade said. “It’s hard to miss questions like: ‘so, what’s the best way to kill a Subversion?’”
She chuckled. “Yeah. Probably a bit obvious. I suppose it’s for the best the alien wouldn’t tell me.”
“No, he specifically told you it was impossible for you to kill a member of his species with our limited weapons tech,” Rade said.
“Yeah well, I don’t really believe that,” she said. “There has be a way. But I’m not going to try, now. I used to hate them all. But I realize you can’t blame an entire species for the actions of a few. Now that we know more about Waldo, while I still distrust the creature, I don’t want to kill it on sight anymore. I can understand its viewpoint. Waldo was only trying to complete its mission, just like we were doing.” She gazed into the distance. “I used to hate the United Systems too, you know. I believed all the propaganda the Party spewed about you. But meeting you and your MOTHs has changed my opinion. Sometimes, and this might sound twisted, but sometimes I’m almost grateful about what happened. If I had never joined the army, I would have remained in intelligence, and continued believing that you were our greatest enemy in the universe. I know now how wrong that is. Especially after meeting you.”
She gave him a yearning look, but Rade quickly looked away, not wanting to encourage her.
“So, Chief Galaal, what about you?” Jiang said. “Did you hate us Sino Koreans?”
“First of all, there are no ranks here, not when we’re off duty,” Rade said. “Call me Rade.”
“And then you must call me Yuan,” Jiang said.
“Done, Yuan,” Rade told her.
She smiled in approval.
“And in answer to your actual question: no, I didn’t hate Sino Koreans,” he said. “I suppose I disliked your government, but never the actual people. Serving alongside men who had relatives from your country helped, of course.”
“It’s an interesting idea, what the United Systems does,” she said. “Drafting immigrants into its army. It’s probably something we should look at. Our army is relatively homogeneous.”
Rade gazed at the distant streets, searching for signs of the others. They had gone in the direction he was facing, so he figured he’d notice their return, unless they returned on a different path.
“Do you think they’re wasting their time?” she asked.
“By exploring?” he said.
“Yes,” she said.
“Not at all,” he told her. “If anything, it gives them something to do. Something to keep their minds occupied. If they stayed here, cooped up, I’m sure Bender and Pyro would get into a few fights out of sheer boredom.”
“It’s a fascinating crew you have,” she said. “They’re very colorful. And brave.”
“They are,” he said. “You should see the rest of them. We’ve got men from every country and spectrum you can imagine, with personalities just as big as their hearts. One has a skull tattoo inked onto his face, another has mechs and their parts tattooed across his arms, neck and chest. We’ve got two communicators who are physical opposites, with personalities to match. We…” He caught himself mid-sentence, and looked at her. “It’s just too bad you’re never going to meet any of them.”
“They sound like a great bunch,” she said.
“The best,” Rade agreed.
“All men?” she asked.
“Yes,” he told her. “Our particular rating doesn’t allow women. The Brass have experimented with allowing women into the training in the past, but for most, it’s just not worth it. The instructors can get fairly nasty, and they’re not afraid of political correctness, to say the least. The physical torture is one thing, but the harassment a woman can receive during training is something else. There’s a mantra we trainees often repeated: don’t draw instructor attention. A woman, by her very nature, is going to draw attention. Especially considering that there would only be one or two of them in the entire class.”
“And I suppose some instructors, members of the old guard, weren’t very happy to have women infiltrating their ranks either,” she said. “And would have done everything in their power to make their lives miserable.”
“It wouldn’t have been fun,” he agreed. Once more their conversation died, and they simply sat in silence.
“Do you like me, at all?” she said suddenly.
He looked at her, and peered searchingly into her face, but she refused to meet his eye. “Of course I like you.”
“I mean… do you find me attractive,” she pressed.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” he told her. “I just… I’m taken.”
“Are you really?” she said. “Or do you just tell yourself that, because you’re afraid?”
“Afraid of what?” he asked, anger slipping into his tone. He didn’t like anyone insinuating that he might be afraid over something so trivial as his own attraction, when he was a MOTH, someone who had faced death a thousand times. And yet, the anger was there mostly because he knew she was right. He was afraid.
“That our situation is permanent,” she explained. “And that we’re never leaving this place.”
He smiled sadly, and looked away. “I’ve already come to that conclusion. I just haven’t told any of you yet.”
“I knew it,” she said. “You always tell us that one day we’ll find a way back, when you yourself don’t even believe it.”
He nodded. “It’s my job as leader to keep up morale. One of the burdens of command.”
She reached out, and rested a hand on his shoulder. Her touch stirred something inside of him. He glanced at her, expecting to see pity, which he did. But there was something else there, too, buried beneath the surface. Something that only increased in intensity when his eyes met hers.
Lust.
He hadn’t had sex in so long. And she was looking so good right now…
He scowled, and she quickly withdrew her hand and looked away.
Why am I resisting so hard? I should just give in. Set myself free. We’re never leaving this place.
He decided in that moment he would listen to Valjean’s advice, and the advice of his own body. Because he knew the mech was right: if Rade didn’t make her his own, then Bender or Pyro eventu
ally would. Assuming she accepted their advances… and why wouldn’t she? There were only so many men to go around.
He reached out, and cupped her farther cheek in his palm; he forced her to turn her head back toward him, and gazed fiercely into her eyes. They were wide, as if shocked. Or afraid.
“You know, earlier I told you that nothing would ever be as pretty as Earth,” Rade said. “But I was wrong. Because you are easily as pretty, if not more so.”
She gave him a puppy dog look, and pressed her face into his palm. “That’s probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Rade leaned forward, and pressed his lips against hers. She returned his kiss desperately, as if she was drowning beneath the ocean and he was her only lifeline, her oxygen.
He broke away for a moment, to gaze out upon the city streets, searching for signs of the platoon.
“You don’t want them to know…” she said.
“I don’t care if they know,” he said. “What I don’t want is anyone walking in on us when we’re going at it, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, we’re going to go at it,” she said, pulling him back in.
Rade slid off the top of her cooling undergarments, and her small breasts jiggled free. He wrapped the fingers of one hand around them, and gently bit the nipple. Then he fingered it, while kissing her once more.
Panting, she struggled to pull off the lower section of her undergarments, while doing her best to keep her lips pressed to his. She was Frenching him by then, pressing her tongue into his mouth. But he shoved back forcefully, darting his own tongue between her lips—he wanted to be the penetrator.
He broke away long enough to slide off the upper section of his undergarments, revealing his muscular torso. She felt his big arms with her small fingers, her touch running between the hard points that protruded from his joints.
He slid off the lower undergarments, and his member leaped free, pulsing and eager. She wrapped her hands around it and squeezed.
Rade moaned, mashing his lips against hers. He slid one finger between her legs, and she gyrated against his palm.
