“It’s quite all right,” the girl assured him. “We get extra credit for showing guests around the school.”
“Which will be meaningless, once you’re out of the school,” Colin told her, bluntly. His mind was elsewhere. “Unless you think you can get a job here.”
The prefects looked at each other in horror. Colin grinned as they turned and led him down the stairs, back to the entrance hall. He hadn’t lied to them. Sure, they might get extra credit for showing him around, but it would be worthless when they left the school. They’d probably be around sixteen to seventeen, he guessed. Maybe they could afford to miss a handful of classes, but not many. The Beast wouldn’t go to bat for them if they got marked down for non-attendance. Probably.
He bid them farewell, then hurried out of the school and down to the pub. The manager noted his uniform and saluted, pouring him a free drink. Colin took it and looked around. Patrick was sitting at a table, drinking. It looked as though he’d spent the morning drinking. Colin felt a flicker of disgust. He hadn’t had to invite Patrick to join him. What was he doing these days? He should be on National Service, not … drinking.
“Hey, mate.” Patrick giggled as he tossed back the remnants of his beer. “How did your return to school go?”
“I embarrassed the Beast,” Colin said. He might get in trouble for it, but he didn’t much care. Not any longer. “Patrick … do you remember Richard Gurnard?”
Patrick giggled. “Little faggot, thought his shit didn’t stink. The dickhead. You don’t remember him?”
Colin stared at his hands. “I …”
“You used to yank down his pants whenever you had a chance,” Patrick said. “He deserved it too. Wanker.”
He giggled, again. Colin shivered. He hadn’t been that bad, had he? And yet, the fear in the gunboat pilot’s eyes had shocked him. A boy called Richard … it had been easy, too easy, to shorten his name to Dick. And then make fun of him, endlessly. He felt shame curdling in his gut. He’d been awful to Richard, awful and … just awful.
“He was the one who asked out Lizzie,” Patrick said. “You remember her? I dated her, for a bit. I think she turned into a lesbian …”
“I don’t blame her,” Colin said, sharply.
“Here,” Patrick said. He waved his hand, drunkenly. “You watch your mouth. I was too much of a man for her …”
Colin stared at his friend, seeing him in a new light. Patrick … had wasted his life. Whatever he was doing with himself, it wasn’t National Service. He’d be surprised if it was anything. Patrick was stupid and shallow and violent and … useless. He’d spend the rest of his life in the underworld, loitering on the edge of society until he overdosed or wound up in a work camp or somewhere. Colin’s stomach churned as he stood and stumbled back. Patrick was a black hole, dragging him down. And coming back to Liverpool again had been a mistake.
“Where are you going?” Patrick started to stand, but his legs failed. “We’ll go find some sexy ladies in need of some good loving …”
“You’re too drunk,” Colin said. A hundred sharp remarks ran through his mind, but he knew none would make any impact on the drunkard. He’d turned his life around. Patrick … hadn’t. And never would. “Goodbye.”
He turned and strode out the door. A glass flew past, bounced off the wall and hit the ground without breaking. Colin felt a sudden mad urge to turn and beat his friend - his former friend - into a pulp, but chose to ignore it. There was no point. Patrick wouldn’t learn anything from the experience and … the landlord was already coming around the counter, shockrod in hand. Patrick would wake up in the drunk tank, begging for a drink. Who knew? A period of enforced sobriety might be good for him.
Fuck, Colin thought, as he kept walking. The memories mocked him. He’d forgotten Richard Gurnard until … until they’d met again, as adults. What the fuck do I do now?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tobias had never cared that much about history. The history classes he’d taken in school had alternated between insisting that everything had worked out for the best and stripping the life from history until reading about great heroes became about as exciting as watching paint dry. The handful of semi-illegal history modules he’d downloaded from the darker corners of the datanet hadn’t been much of an improvement, bashing Britain where the official records had praised Britain. One side thought Britain could do no wrong, while the other had argued Britain could do no right. But looking at Apollo 11, he couldn’t help feeling a thrill. There was real history wrapped up in the tiny lander.
He held Marigold’s hand as they walked around the railing, staring at where Neil Armstrong had first set foot on the moon. The Americans had turned the entire scene into a tourist attraction, but they’d been careful to preserve everything they could. No tourists were allowed to get any closer to the lander, let alone put their footprints beside the first on the moon. It didn’t matter. He felt history peering down at him as they read the plaque near the lander, then returned to the tunnel that led back to the city. It felt as though he was finally free.
“Perhaps I’ll move here,” he said, as they passed through a pair of airlocks. “It’s so much better than home.”
Marigold grinned and squeezed his hand. He wasn’t sure when they’d joined hands, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let go. Armstrong City was bright and open, even though half was buried beneath the lunar surface. There was a sense of boundless optimism in the natives that was so lacking back home. And it wasn’t even the freest city on the moon, perhaps not even the best place to live. He smiled, promising himself he’d to find a place to live when he was discharged. He’d have his spacer’s badge by then. It should be easy to immigrate. Luna was always looking for new settlers.
They passed the flying dome, with tourists donning wings and flapping around like birds, as they headed back to the hotel. Tobias was tempted to try it himself, something he never would have dared on Earth. Colin … he shook his head, banishing the bully from his mind. It was the first time he’d been on a proper date with a girl and he was damned if he was letting Colin, even a memory of Colin, ruin it.
“We could try that tomorrow,” Marigold said. “The tourist bus to the crater might have been cancelled.”
Tobias frowned. “Did they say why?”
“No,” Marigold said. “But it probably has something to do with the war.”
Tobias said nothing as they reached the hotel, passed through the automated gates and entered their room. It was more of a small apartment than a room, designed to allow them to cater for themselves if they didn’t feel like going out and finding somewhere to eat. The preserved food tasted better than he’d expected, certainly better than the ration bars handed out on Earth. It was hard to believe the beef burger wasn’t real beef, even though meat was still expensive on the moon. Vat-grown meat was cheaper, but not by much.
He shook his head. He hadn’t really wanted the reminder about the war. It was easy to forget, in Armstrong City, that there was a war on. The tourists still thronged the streets, the locals still laughed and sang and … and all of that would come to an end, if the virus attacked the colony. The Tadpoles had bombarded the moon, back during the first war. The virus would hardly be any kinder. It might decide there was no point in preserving the colony and simply smash it from orbit.
“It’s definitely been cancelled,” Marigold said. She sat on the bigger of the two beds, studying the viewscreen. “We’ll have to find something else to do tomorrow.”
Tobias sat next to her. “Go flying?”
“If it’s open,” Marigold said. She started to flick between channels. “What do you want to watch?”
“Anything,” Tobias said. They had similar tastes. He knew that much. “Pick anything.”
Marigold put on a light comedy and leaned against him. Tobias allowed himself a moment of relief, mingled with fear. What if he did the wrong thing? What if he went too far? What if … he was torn between the urge to press against her and th
e fear she’d slap him - or worse - if he tried. He hesitated, then lifted his hand and put his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled against him, turning her head to his. It was suddenly very easy to kiss her. Their lips met.
Tobias felt a surge of excitement as she pressed against him. Her hands stroked his back as they kissed, again and again. He started to reach for her breasts, giving her a chance to say no and draw back if she changed her mind. He’d had all the lectures on consent, on letting the girl set the pace, but they’d never meant much to him. No girl had so much as given him the time of day, until now. She quivered against him as his fingers brushed against her shirt, then crawled under her clothes. It was hard, surprisingly hard, to undress without tearing anything …
Afterwards, he lay against her, oddly unsure of himself. He was a virgin. He was … no, he’d been a virgin. He stared at her, drinking in her naked body. He’d seen porn - he’d seen a lot of porn - but none of it came close to a living, breathing girl. He wondered if it had been good for her, if she’d liked what he’d done with his hands and mouth and … he wondered, suddenly, if it had been her first time. He simply didn’t have enough experience to know. The boys had bragged for hours in the changing rooms, but he was sure they’d been lying. They had to have been lying.
Marigold shifted against him. He swallowed, then asked. “Was it good for you?”
She giggled. “Yeah,” she said. “And you?”
Tobias didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed her again.
***
“You’re back early,” Sergeant Bowman said, as Colin peered into his office. “Should I be concerned?”
“No, Sergeant,” Colin said. It had been a day since he’d given his little speech. If the Beast had wanted to lodge a complaint, he’d have done it by now. “I … I wanted to ask your advice.”
“Oh, dear,” Bowman said. He waved a hand at the folding chairs, positioned against the far bulkhead. “Take a chair, and a deep breath, and tell me about it.”
Colin hesitated, unsure what to say. The sergeant was his superior, even though he wasn’t an officer. Bowman outranked him. And Bowman had far more experience than he did. It was true a sergeant was meant to be a father-figure to the men, but … Colin really wasn’t sure what to say. What would Bowman think of him? What would anyone think of him?
“I need your advice,” he said. “Can we talk privately?”
“So you said,” Bowman reminded him. “For the record, I do have an obligation to report certain things to the CO.”
“I … I understand.” Colin frowned. “I don’t know what to say.”
“If she’s pregnant, get a medical certificate before you do anything stupid,” Bowman said, dryly. “If she’s dumped you, get over it. If he’s dumped you, get over it. If she never even knew you existed, and married someone who also never knew you existed, grow the fuck up before you do something stupid. Does that advice help?”
“No, Sergeant,” Colin said. “What … what do you have to report to the CO?”
“Use your common sense,” Bowman said. “What do you think?”
Colin decided not to worry about it. “Sergeant, when I was in school …”
He broke off. “I … Sergeant, when I was in school …”
“I’m sure you were taught to be concise,” Bowman said. “Are you going to get to the point before I die of old age?”
“No, sir,” Colin said. He wasn’t sure how old Bowman actually was. “I … when I was in school, I was … I was awful to someone.”
“Indeed?” Bowman cocked an eyebrow. “In what way?”
Colin felt a hot flash of anger. “I was a bullying bastard, Sergeant,” he said. “I was a right little monster.”
“I hope you’ve grown up,” Bowman said. “You wouldn’t be the first person to come to us with a chequered record.”
“He’s onboard ship,” Colin said. “I … didn’t even recognise him, not at first. I didn’t even remember him. But he remembered me.”
“I’m not surprised, if you were a bullying bastard.” Bowman studied Colin for a long, cold moment. “How do you feel about it now?”
“I was a fucking arse, Sergeant,” Colin said. It crossed his mind he shouldn’t use such language in front of the older man, but it was already too late. “I … I … I don’t even know why I was such an arse to him. And I was …”
“I see,” Bowman said. “And did he do anything to provoke you?”
Colin shrugged. The hell of it was that he simply didn’t know. He’d honestly forgotten the poor bastard until he’d seen the photograph. The memories were faint. Richard Gurnard - he was apparently going by Tobias now, according to the records he’d checked - had just been part of his life, one of the world’s eternal victims. He burned with shame at just how awful he’d been. Provocation? What sort of provocation deserved a life sentence of endless bullying? He understood, now, too late.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so.” Bowman’s eyes bored into him. “And if you don’t think so, do you have any kind of excuse?”
Colin said nothing. He’d had a rough upbringing, but so what? He’d had trouble at school … so what? Richard - Tobias - had been crap at sports … so what? Treating him like dirt had impressed the girls … or had it? He’d heard a little something about mob psychology during training, when they’d been cautioned they might have to cope with civil unrest. A thug could convince everyone to support him, for fear of what he’d do if they didn’t. Better someone else got the beating … he stared down at his hands. He’d been a bastard and now … he didn’t know what to do.
“Well?” Bowman leaned forward. “Do you have any kind of excuse?”
“No, Sergeant,” Colin said. “I don’t.”
“I’m glad you admit it,” Bowman said. “And what do you intend to do about it?”
“I don’t know,” Colin said. “What can I do?”
“My, it’s a tough one.” Bowman’s voice hardened. “Can you go back in time and kick the shit out of your younger self?”
“I’m not sure it would have helped,” Colin said. “I was a right …”
“So you said.” Bowman cut him off, effortlessly. “What can you do about it?”
“I don’t know,” Colin repeated. “What can I do about it?”
“If you were in his place,” Bowman asked, “what would you want done about it?”
Colin shrugged. He’d never been in such a place. In school, he’d fought to establish himself as a big man. In the marines, he’d knuckled down and worked until he’d earned some respect - and his first stripe. The idea of someone battering him down so completely he couldn’t raise a hand to defend himself was … unthinkable. Even the dreaded Conduct After Capture course, which had approached borderline torture, hadn’t beaten him down. He’d heard the warnings, he’d been cautioned that real enemy interrogators might do worse than his training officers, but … it was hard to believe. The virus didn’t need to torture captives. It just infected them.
“Think about it,” Bowman advised. “What would you want? What would you fear?”
Me, Colin thought.
He scowled. “Can I just apologise?”
“Perhaps you should,” Bowman said. “But would you be apologising because you want to … or because you think you should?”
“Sergeant?”
Bowman leaned forward. “You’re not the first person to have royally fucked up, when you were a kid. Believe me, you’re hardly the worst I’ve seen. At least you realise it, which is more than some of the others ever did. And you got some of the attitude knocked out of you during commando training …”
“Yes, Sergeant,” Colin said. He tried to imagine what his instructors would have said, if he’d tried to bully them. He would have been safer boarding an infected starship stark naked. “I was … I tried to grow up a little.”
“A little,” Bowman said. “Let me tell you your story. You grew up an angry youn
g man in a rough area. You were deprived of any good examples, because your father never taught you the right lessons. You learnt, probably without really being aware of it, that you had to assert yourself to survive. You did this, like everyone else in your position, by making examples of people who couldn’t really push back. You found yourself a pack of fair-weather friends and a small harem of girls who didn’t really like you, but feared what you’d do if they rejected you.”
Colin stiffened. “It wasn’t really like that …”
“Quiet,” Bowman said. It was very definitely an order. “You picked up a bunch of bad habits. You never thought to question them because they were keeping you at the top of the pecking order. You never thought to wonder what harm they were doing to you, and everyone else, in the long run. And then you left school and went straight into commando training. You finally had someone teaching you better lessons, teaching you how to control and direct your anger. You grew up.
“Problem is, you still have to deal with the past. Don’t you?”
“Yes, Sergeant,” Colin said, sullenly. “I … I never forced any girl to …”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Bowman said. “Are you sure?”
“I … I think so,” Colin said. He remembered all the girls he’d kissed. Had they wanted to kiss him? Or … he shuddered. He didn’t want to think about it. “I never forced anyone.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Bowman said. “And here’s something you will not be glad to hear.”
Colin said nothing. He just waited.
“You haven’t told me anything new,” Bowman said. “You haven’t found a new way to screw up. You’re just acting out a script that was old when the human race was young. No one called you out for it, not until now.”
“Why not?” Colin asked. “Why?”
Bowman smiled. “If you take a swing at me, what do you think will happen?”
“You’d kick my ass,” Colin said. He’d seen the sergeant fight. “It wouldn’t be a contest.”
“No,” Bowman agreed. “If you’d taken a swing at one of your teachers, or one of your fair-weather friends, you might have escaped punishment. You might. And … even if you weren’t inclined to punch anyone who questioned you, who would? Teenagers are wired to resent their friends acting like parents. A grown man like me can call you out for being an ass, which I will. Believe me, I will. One of your comrades? I very much doubt it … and if they did, you’d be pissed.”
The Lion and the Unicorn Page 24
