by Mark Tufo
“Because we’re still here.”
“Maybe he’s doing reconnaissance.”
“Maybe, Paul, but that’s not really their tactic. It’s usually more along the lines of seek and destroy. Do you really think what we’ve got here could hold out against any sort of sustained attack? Shit, Paul, he knocked and your guards let him in.”
“What?! Who was on duty!” Paul shouted, he looked like he was about to go head hunting.
“Paul, my point is that, if they had truly discovered us, we’d be under a full-fledged attack.”
Paul sat heavily at his desk, his chair groaning from all the times he had done so. “What is he doing here, then?” he asked, a little more subdued but not by much.
“He’s a deserter.”
“He told you that? And you believe him?”
“They don’t lie much Paul, if at all.”
“So he deserted and just so happened to stumble upon our little home then? He figured holing up with his enemies was a good idea then? You cannot be so fucking naïve, can you?”
“Can you be so jaded, Paul!” My voice was raising now. “I’ve yet to get a complete answer out of him, even he is unsure as to why he is here, but he is as sick of the killing and the destruction as we are.”
“A beast with a soul—how quaint.”
“Don’t underestimate their spirituality.”
“Don’t you underestimate what damage they could bring here!”
“Are you not listening to what I’m saying, Paul? I think he’s here to help.”
“I don’t believe it, Mike, not for a second and I’d much rather put a bullet in his head. Let the doctors do a little dissection and figure out how to kill them more effectively.”
“Should we start with Dee?” I asked hotly.
Paul was glaring at me, but he chose not to speak.
“You’d shoot him too, wouldn’t you?”
“In a fucking heartbeat,” he answered.
“They might hold the key to this whole fuck-fest and you’d rather add them to the growing pile of dead. You kill them and it’s really over. We’re hiding in a hole like rats. What has landed so far is nothing more than an expeditionary force. As soon as the big guns get here, we’re gone. Oh a few of us might be saved for food and games, some might even luck out and get into a zoo, but other than that man becomes an extinct animal.”
“All I think you’ve done by having them here is to hasten our departure.”
“They’re here now, Paul. I think we find a way to utilize them.”
“I had to tell Dennis’ mother about her son today,” Paul said abruptly changing the conversation.
I pulled up a chair and matched his heavy seat fall, my gusted sails having completely gone windless. “I’m sorry, Paul. How’d that go?”
“As well as you’d expect. Do you think these aliens can really help us?” Paul asked, looking for a glimmer of hope in an otherwise gloomy day.
“Paul, I do. By ourselves we’re merely marking time and I know you know that. Oh, we’ll go out guns blazing, but focus on the ‘go out’ part. I think we could have something here. The Genogerians are slaves, plain and simple, and I think if we can somehow get the message across to them that they can be free here they might bite.”
Paul looked up at me at my last word.
“Okay, bad choice of words, but you know what I mean. They don’t want to be here, especially now that they are dying at an unprecedented rate.”
“And then what, Mike, we all go strolling down the road like nothing happened?”
“Paul, the Genos make up somewhere in the neighborhood of eighty percent of the population on that ship and on the ground. They become our allies, this war is over. I don’t know what happens after that, but it would be nice to have the time to think about that, don’t you think?”
“What do you propose, drop flyers on them like the Germans did to the African-Americans fighting in World War Two?”
“You sure are young to be a cynical old bastard.”
“I’m serious Mike. They might despise the Progerians but they downright hate us.
“But they don’t hate Dee or Urlack.”
“Emissaries? But how would we even get their words across to the Genogerians?”
“I don’t know any of that yet.”
“I think you should find out soon,” Paul said as he grabbed a stack of paperwork on his desk.
I was a little taken aback, my old friend was summarily dismissing me from his quarters without speaking a word. I wanted to tell him to kiss my ass, but I was afraid he’d throw me in the brig. I saw no reason to push my luck. I wanted to get back to medical as quickly as possible, mostly for selfish reasons. I knew if I stayed out in the open long enough Beth would track me down. She was not a fan of Dee and I could guarantee she would not want to be anywhere near Urlack either. I found myself peering down hallways before I entered, much like I had in high school while I was keeping an eye out for Spindler. I needed to remember to check in on him later.
“How’s he doing, Doc?” I asked as I came in, grateful I had somehow eluded my stalker.
“He’ll be fine, the bullets barely got through his hide and he’s marginally nicer than your other friend, although that isn’t saying a whole bunch.”
“I very much enjoy this beverage,” Urlack was saying as he looked at the container he was drinking from. “Does it have medicinal properties?” he asked Dee.
“What’s he drinking?” I asked coming over, happy that Urlack was lying down and Dee was sitting. I almost felt big enough.
“Something called Moxie,” Dee said.
I almost choked. “You like that?” I asked Urlack.
“I do not think I have ever had anything as refreshing. This must be a prized drink on your planet, perhaps reserved primarily for dignitaries. I am honored to drink it.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him the last time I used Moxie was to remove rust off my bike chain when I was nine. I would no sooner drink that concoction than walk through a briar patch buck naked.
“I’m glad you like it,” was all I could muster with a straight face. I thought that he might want to drink it fast before it ate through the plastic glass he was holding.
“Is Paul angry?” Dee asked, his normal intuitive self.
“You could say that. We need to come up with a plan for Operation Genogerian freedom.”
“That has a nice sound to it,” Urlack said. “Not as nice as this drink, but nice nonetheless.”
“I still have a hard time with you guys speaking English.”
“Würden sie eher ich deutsch sprechen?” Urlack said, the harsh words made me pause.
“What?” I asked.
“’Would you rather I speak German?’ I asked,” Urlack said.
“No, just English,” I answered. “It’s just weird to hear human language come out of your mouths.”
“It is a means that we use to have cultures lose their hope. If we can learn and take your language…”
“Yeah, I know—if you can do that so easily, what else could you take over as quickly. I get it. I’m just saying it’s weird.”
“I watched more than a few of your bouts. I always thought that you tended more toward luck than prowess,” Urlack said.
“I bet you’re fun at parties,” I said.
“Do they serve this Moxie at parties?” Urlack asked seriously.
“God, I hope not.”
“You humans can be brilliant when it comes to devising ways in which to preserve your lives. Your species’ survival instinct is strong, that is why our fight has not gone as easy as the High Command thought it would. I fear for the lives of my enslaved brethren; they die while the officers sit back and plot their next move.”
“It’s been the same on our planet for eons.” I rued.
“What will be gained if an alliance can be formed?” Urlack asked.
“Another chance. That’s all I can promise, Urlack. Maybe we’ve learned
something, I hope that’s the case. If we haven’t, at the very least, your kind will be able to make their own decisions.”
“That will have to be enough,” Urlack said, apparently some thought was weighed on an internal scale and had finally tipped into humanity’s favor.
“Any idea how we’ll be able to do this?” I asked.
“We have been talking in your absence, Michael,” Dee said. “There has been a growing movement among the Genogerians, a discontent at our treatment. We have been waiting decades for an opportunity such as the one that is presenting itself here. Urlack has Genogerians on the inside that will risk everything to spread the word that the appropriate time has come.”
I looked around conspiratorially. “Please do not let anyone know you have communication outside of the walls,” I told Urlack.
“I will agree to that,” Urlack said.
“And what about that ship circling over us?” I asked. “Even if every ground troop you have defects, that ship could easily undo everything. I can’t imagine there are too many Progerians sympathetic to the plight of their cousins.”
“You are correct in that assumption,” Urlack said. “There are certain measures that will be taken in that regard also.”
“This sounds promising,” I said, hope creeping its way back into my heart.
“For this to work, you will need to come with me back to the ship,” Urlack said.
My throat threatened to jump out of my mouth along with my stomach and a good chunk of my liver. Dee’s chair went hurtling through space as he quickly stood up.
“I will not allow it!” he shouted.
The three guards and the lieutenant quickly came into the room to see what was the matter.
“Everything alright?” the lieutenant asked me.
I doubt I looked alright. I felt like I had just swallowed a live eel and it was sending bolts of electricity through my innards. "I'm fine." I managed to say without spraying stomach juice around the room. They departed almost as quickly as they had entered.
“For this to work, they will have to see you speak the words of this new peace and a promise that they will be able to live out their lives untethered to another’s will and on land they can call their own.”
“Why me? I’m a lowly captain.”
“You’re the Earth champion; they would not be able to think of anyone more in a position of power than yourself.”
“Dee, I can’t go back to that ship,” I said haltingly. I wasn’t proud of my response, but just the thought of going back was making staying in the standing position a difficult proposition.
“I will support you with any decision you make, Michael,” Dee said.
Dee’s statement hung there. It was only a fragment of what he wanted to say.
“Dee, please finish the rest of your thought,” I told him, even though I had no desire to know what he felt because it really didn’t bode well for me.
“Please do not let my conflicting words mislead you, I do not want you to go that ship either and I will fight alongside you down here until the end, but the end is what it will be. Your kind has fought admirably, but this is not a fight they can win. This is merely the vanguard of a much bigger occupation force. Once they get here, nothing we have done these last few months will matter. If we are to truly win, we must have a superior position from which to defend ourselves.”
“Dee, say all of this works—we’re able to convince the Genogerians, down here and up in the ship, that now is the time for their freedom. What then? I’m still not sure I see the gain if the Progerians still have a fleet on the way. I can’t imagine a scout ship would be any match for what’s coming and even if it was, who’s going to operate it? I can’t imagine the Progerians are going to see the folly of their ways and then join up with us.”
“Valid point,” Urlack said. “But a scout ship, probes the depths of unknown space for years at a time. It is a battle fortress in its own right, never knowing what it may encounter along its voyages. It would hold up quite well in battle. And I will be there to teach the Genogerians how to operate the controls. Besides that, there are ways we could communicate with the Genogerians on the other ships to make them understand what is happening here.”
“This is a lot of ‘ifs’,” I said, looking for some sort of way out of the nightmare.
“What choices are there?” Dee asked pragmatically. “We stay, we fight, we die.”
“Very inspirational,” I told him.
“Really, Michael, I am not sure sarcasm is appropriate right now,” Dee answered back.
“Sarcasm?” Urlack asked.
“I think you two will have plenty of time for him to teach you all about it,” Dee said to Urlack.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE - Mike Journal Entry 22
“Absolutely not,” Tracy and Paul said in unison. Although if I remember correctly, Tracy’s words were also infused with a few choice expletives.
“I smell trap all over this,” Paul said.
“Normally, I’d think the same thing, Paul, but why bother? They would now know this location and could crush us within an hour or two at the most. I mean, maybe it could be an elaborate scheme to flush me out and parade me around, but they just don’t operate like that. They don’t see the need for deception. They are all about crush and acquire.”
Paul stopped his arguing. “You can’t possibly be thinking about this?” Tracy asked Paul.
“Unless we had our own spaceships, we all know we’re merely biding our time until the end comes,” Paul said to Tracy.
“Are you insane?” Tracy shouted. Whether it was meant for me or Paul I wasn’t sure.
“Don’t forget your place, Lieutenant,” Paul said.
“Sir, yes, sir, General,” Tracy said snapping to attention.
“Now I understand your feelings in this matter, but we have to look at this as the sacrifice of the one for the many.”
“The sacrifice?” I whispered.
“Figure of speech,” Paul said.
“I’ve always hated that figure,” I mumbled.
“Sir, I understand,” Tracy said. “But can’t we just make a videotape or something and send it with Urlack?”
“Genogerians are very impressed with displays of courage and valor,” I said.
“Being on that ship without Progerian knowledge would satisfy both of those requirements,” Paul said. “Mike, I don’t know if I’ll ever get over Dennis’ death, I cannot add you to that list,” Paul said, contemplating what the plan would entail and the dangers that were inherent in it. “When?” Paul asked.
“Couple of days at the most,” someone that sounded and looked like me answered. I was having an out of body experience. I was looking down on that dipshit and was busy trying to figure out what ‘he’ had against me.
“That soon?” Tracy nearly shrieked.
“Lieutenant, you’re dismissed,” Paul said coolly.
Tracy leveled a hard stare at him that I thought would cause his camouflage blouse to burst into flame.
“You have something more to add?” Paul asked her.
“No, sir,” she answered, turning to leave. Her gaze swept past my face and gave second degree burns everywhere it made contact.
The door shut a fraction harder than it needed to.
“You alright?” Paul asked with a small grin.
“You mind if I sleep here?” I asked him.
“Might as well. This is where I sleep when I get any, that is. Mike, what the fuck are you thinking?” Paul asked seriously.
“I’m thinking about the baby Tracy is carrying, Paul. Any chance I have, no matter how remote, to give him or her a chance to grow up, to laugh, to love, I have to try.”
“How come you never took drama in school?” Paul asked as he fished a bottle of some smoky colored liquor out of his desk.
“Smoked too much weed, could never remember my lines,” I told him as I took the glass with the liquor from him.
“It’s been a good run,” P
aul said, holding up his glass. I clinked mine against his, downing the booze, the familiar burning sensation cascading down my throat.
“I’ve never liked this shit,” I told him. “Pour me another one.” We toasted again.
“What do you give your odds?” Paul asked, pouring a third.
“One in ten,” I told him, waiting impatiently for the liquid courage to be poured.
“That high? Impressive.”
“You should make this one a double.”
“How is this Urlack planning on getting a hold of a ship?”
“He says he’s got it all figured out.”
“You sure do have a lot of faith in them, Mike.”
“All Germans weren’t monsters in World War Two, Paul.”
“Yeah, but at least they were human,” Paul said as he quaffed down his drink.
“Well, yeah there’s that,” I said, matching his motion. The fire in my belly spread as the liquid did it’s magic. My eyes felt a little heavier as I became buzzed. “What is this shit?” I said pushing my glass over for another pour.
“It’s Camus Cognac. Twenty-five hundred bucks a bottle.”
“Holy shit, you got more?”
“No.”
“You really don’t think I’m going to make it back,” I said. Paul kept pouring. “I don’t know,” I said taking another swig, “I really wouldn’t pay much over two thousand for this.”
Paul stopped to look at me, his gaze softened just as he began to laugh. I joined in heartily.
***
I staggered out of Paul’s office a few hours later, Paul’s head was resting on his desk and he was snoring lightly. I wrote him a small note to tell him how much I loved and valued him as a friend. I hoped it was legible. I’d felt like a kindergartner tightly gripping a crayon and trying desperately to copy the funny characters the teacher had written on the board.
Tracy was leaning against the wall, I nearly fell into her. “Smooth, huh?” I asked her.
“You’re drunk,” she said, probably with a small measure of disgust.
“That would be an understatement.”
“Let’s go home.”
