by B. V. Larson
Graves showed up about ten minutes later. His face blocked out the medical lights that were glaring into my eyes, and he examined me with all the tenderness of a rancher poking at his prize bull.
“McGill? Are you lucid yet?”
“Right as rain, sir.”
“Good. I wanted to talk to you. With all the revives going on today I knew it would be a while if I let you stack up in the queue with the rest. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind that you stopped me from being recycled? No sir, I don’t mind.”
He slapped my thigh, and I winced. He didn’t seem to notice.
“That’s the spirit! I want to thank you, McGill. That was a fine bit of improvising you did out there on the field today. We didn’t expect that play. Sure, Winslade and the rest of his auxiliary people are screaming about the damage you did to their machines—but do you know what I said to that?”
“Uh…what sir?”
“That they could go screw themselves, that’s what. It was Winslade’s idea to prove how powerful his machines were by abusing all the new troops who arrived to train on them. I’m sure he didn’t expect much in the way of damage, but that’s just too damned bad.”
I was fuzzy, but I was pretty sure he’d mentioned a name that I didn’t think should be mentioned when talking about combat units.
“Sir?” I asked. “Did you say Winslade? As in, Adjunct Winslade?”
“The one and only. Turov’s sidekick has finally cashed in his marker. He’s a primus now—hadn’t you heard?”
A primus was in charge of a cohort in a regular legion or in some cases an independent auxiliary cohort. Commanding an auxiliary cohort gave a primus more prestige and independence than a regular commander who was permanently the subordinate of a legion’s tribune. Usually, such special cohort assignments went to people who’d held the rank of primus for several years and who had done well in that capacity. Winslade was none of these things.
“I’m not surprised he managed to swing a command rank,” I said, “but isn’t this a stretch? A primus is two jumps above an Adjunct. Last I’d heard, he still didn’t have much in the way of combat experience to begin with.”
“I know,” Graves said, “I know. I’ve been with this legion for decades, and they’ve always promoted one snot-nose or another over me. That’s the way of things sometimes. When forming up a new auxiliary cohort, you would think they’d look for officers from the existing fighting forces, but no.”
“They took and promoted a Hog right over you? It’s just not right.”
“Well, let’s forget about that,” Graves said. “Let’s talk about your tactics. What inspired you to try to shove the dragons over the side?”
I explained how I’d seen a group along the edge which had managed to throw one down. I then quickly ordered my followers to charge into the melee before the dragons could finish butchering the first group.
“Excellent,” Graves said. “That’s what I’m talking about, right there: Leadership on the field, improvisation—and victory. I don’t regret a thing.”
I frowned. “What would you have to regret, sir?”
“Your upcoming trials have been challenged. The 3rd Unit veterans came to me, and they told me I had to pull your advancement to candidacy. Did you know they were against it?”
“I had a feeling, sir.”
“Well, I won’t lie—this might go badly for you, but I think you might be able to pull it off somehow. See you on the other side, McGill.”
He stood up and gave me a grim nod. Then he left the infirmary. I looked after him and tried not to worry.
* * *
The trip out to Gamma Pavonis was a long run. I had plenty of time to heal up and join in the training exercises with the rest of my unit.
Driving the dragons around turned out to be fun. I’d seen Turov do it back on Tech World, but at that time I hadn’t known who had built these machines. Apparently, the colonists from Dust World had produced the prototypes when seeking a system they could sell to other planets. They’d settled down as nanite vendors in the end but not before producing some pretty interesting designs to share with the human-only market.
What got me most was the inventiveness of the colonists on Dust World. They’d been a splinter group cut off from Earth for nearly a century. They hadn’t known they shouldn’t be making new tech devices freely, that it was against Galactic Law. What impressed me the most, however, was how many cool things they’d invented with such a small group. During the same interval, Earth had pretty much stagnated technologically. Due to its very nature, the Empire progressed very slowly.
I knew from my new-history courses back in school that the twentieth and twenty-first centuries had been a time of explosive growth in human knowledge. We’d invented all kinds of things that were taken for granted today. Humanity had been quite innovative back in the days before the Galactic bureaucrats came and put a damper on all our creativity. In order to legally make a product in the Empire, you had to first make sure that no other civilization held the patent. The colonists from Zeta Herculis hadn’t known about these restrictions and had plowed along inventing whatever they damn well pleased. I had to admire their spunk.
The dragons were one such invention. As they were already producing nanites as a trade good to cement their position in the Empire, they’d decided to use the battle vehicles as a trade good with Earth itself. It was just as illegal for a single planet to have multiple interstellar trade goods as it was to have none or to trade something that someone else did. But, apparently, no other planets produced suits like these and so humans were in the clear to build and sell them among themselves.
Over the last month or so, I’d come to understand how the new auxiliary cohort fit in with the rest of Legion Varus. My Legion had gone into space this time with a lot of extra recruits. These troops now served to swell the ranks of all ten of Varus’ existing cohorts. In the meantime, veteran troops were moved into the new auxiliary cohort. My unit, being one of the ones trained in the use of heavy armor, was a natural choice to learn how to fight in dragons as they were essentially larger, heavier, self-powered battle armor systems.
Centurion Graves became a unit commander under Winslade. It seemed unfair, even downright mean, to put him in that position, but Turov had never been one to worry about justice when she made a decision.
And so I learned how to drive the strange dragons. Probably the most difficult part was learning how to operate the hand controls manipulating the grippers at the same time I was directing the twin chest cannons.
The chest cannons operated in two modes. You could use them on full-auto, which essentially meant the suit’s computer system chose its target and fired the cannons wherever it wanted to, or you could manually control both the arms and the cannons with your own hands. This was accomplished by squeezing metal triggers with your palms and three smaller fingers, while at the same time using your thumb and forefinger to make pinching motions to control the grippers. In reality, most troopers chose the middle ground of letting the computer aim the cannons while they chose the moment to fire by either verbally commanding it or by using their fingers.
It was all pretty much as difficult as it sounded. I remarked about it to Carlos while we were undergoing our final trials.
“Tell me about it,” Carlos said. “I feel like I should have a bugle hanging out of my ass. I’m a one-man band, here.”
Throughout the days of training I was naturally in close proximity with Della. We were both wearing monster suits, of course, but I could still see her face. I had to wonder what she was thinking.
I knew without asking what Natasha was thinking. She didn’t leave me any mystery about it. Every time I looked at Della or watched her climb in and out of her dragon, Natasha seemed to notice. I didn’t know how I was supposed to avoid noticing Della all that time, so I didn’t bother to try. After all, we took showers together, dressed together, and sparred together all day long.
Since
Natasha seemed to care so much, I decided to make a play for her at dinner the night before we finished our training.
“Natasha,” I said, “hey…how about you and I—”
“Forget it,” she snapped.
“What? You haven’t heard what I was going to say.”
“James, I’ve heard it all. We all have. All of the women in this unit.”
“Sheesh. I was just going to—”
“I know. I suggest you go ask Della instead.”
“Wait,” I said, “Della doesn’t even look at me. Haven’t you noticed that?”
“Of course I have. That’s why I’m angry. She’s still very aware of you. Go talk to her. She wants you to.”
I shrugged. “Fine. Just fine. I’ll do that.”
I found Della in the colonist module which was in the lowest tier of the stack aboard Cyclops.
“Hi Della,” I said, “I just thought I’d come down here and—”
Della put a finger to her lips. She walked toward me, smiling. When she came close I checked her hands for weapons, and I became alarmed. She had one hand behind her back.
Like I said, Della and I had a strange relationship. We’d made love and fought to the death about the same number of times. It could go either way with this woman.
When she got close, I backed up a little. Laughing, she lifted both her hands, palms out. They were empty.
I smiled sheepishly. “Just checking,” I said.
“I know,” she said. “But I’ve changed, James.”
“Listen,” I said hesitantly, “I wanted to apologize for pushing you off the stack of modules and killing you the other day. I didn’t know it was you inside that metal monster at the time. You understand that, right?”
“Yes. You shouldn’t feel any remorse. After all, I did know it was you, and I still tried to clip your arms off. It was all part of the exercise.”
“No hard feelings then?”
“None at all.”
I smiled. “Good. We can be friends again. Say, how about—?”
That was as far as I got. She cut off my words by jumping on me. That’s the only way I can describe it. One second I was unsure how I stood, even fearing for my life, and the next we were in a lip-lock.
We found a place off by ourselves on the Green Deck, which was pretty easy to do on Cyclops since the ship had only about twenty percent of the usual number of troops aboard.
Green Deck was like a public park, a place traditionally built aboard all large ships to simulate an outdoor environment. It was always popular with couples seeking a get-away during off-hours. During the day it was used for combat training.
Overgrown with trees and riddled with sheltered nooks behind rocks and bushes, there was always a spot you could find that was secluded and at least semi-private. Artificial birds sang and brooks babbled, giving people the exact level of cover-noise they needed.
We made love, and the sex was as good as it had always been with Della. She was possibly the most uninhibited girl I’d ever been with. I chalked that up to her upbringing on an alien world.
“That was great,” I said afterward. “You aren’t still trying to get pregnant are you?”
“No, of course not,” she said. “I wouldn’t do that now, it would be inappropriate.”
I sighed in relief. Last time we’d been together, Della had been interested in procreating with me. Apparently, that was all over with.
Putting my arms behind my head, I stretched out on the grass and stared up at the simulated starry sky.
“Aren’t you interested?” she asked.
“Interested in what?”
“Don’t you at least want to know the name I chose?”
I frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about, girl?”
“Our child, of course.”
Words failed me. “You mean…?”
“Of course. We succeeded the last time. Her name is Etta.”
I stared at her. Both of my eyes must’ve been as big around as a Georgia peach. She laughed at me, laughed right in my face.
I jumped up like I’d been stung. “What are you doing out here in space?” I demanded. “Where’s our kid? You didn’t bring her aboard, did you?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that. She’s far too young. She’ll make an excellent Scout someday, but she’s not ready yet.”
“No… I didn’t mean that. Who’s taking care of her? That’s what I want to know.”
“Her grandfather, among others. You remember the Principal Investigator?”
I made a sour face. “How could I forget?”
“Don’t worry,” Della said, “Etta will be fine. With your genes and mine, she’s as immutable as a stone in the desert. Everything will make way for her. Nothing will break her.”
“But…listen, where I come from, parents care for their own children directly. If I’d had a kid back on Earth, I wouldn’t have joined the legions and come flying out here to the stars. I would have stayed home and raised it.”
She cocked her head to one side and looked at me quizzically. “Are you upset?”
“A little, yeah,” I admitted.
“You didn’t enjoy the sex?”
I snorted. “Of course I did.”
She shook her head and combed leaves out of her hair with her fingers. “You people from Earth, you’re so sensitive. You worry about everything. How can life be worth living if you worry all the time?”
If there’s one thing I’d never been called before, it was a worrier. But this was different. Della had gone and gotten herself pregnant—with my help of course—and now I’d been placed in the unaccustomed roll of responsibility. It was a shock.
Heaving a sigh, I sat down beside Della, and I looked her straight in the eye.
“We should get married,” I said.
She frowned. She plucked at the grass around her knees and twisted the blades around her fingers. “I would’ve liked that,” she said, “a year or so back…but I can’t now.”
“Why not?”
She smiled at me. Her expression was almost shy.
“Because, James…I’m already married.”
-9-
Della’s twin revelations came as quite a shock to me. Not only was I father, the parent of a kid I’d never seen and possibly never would see, but she’d gone and gotten married in the meantime.
Even stranger was her apparent attitude toward fidelity. I mean, she was a married woman and yet she’d slept with me without even telling me about it. I just couldn’t get over that. Culturally, we were about as far apart as two people could get.
Needless to say, I was confused. I went back to my bunk that night and thought about it, unable to sleep for nearly ten minutes. That’s not normal for me.
When I finally did fall asleep I dreamt weird things. I dreamt about squids, and deserts, and beautiful nutty women.
Around about three in the morning, my sleep was interrupted. Straps looped over my chest, legs, and throat. My eyes snapped open, and I moved to get out of bed, but I was pinned down to it. The room was dark and my roommates were gone. Figures stood all around me.
As an experienced fighting man from Legion Varus, I pride myself on being prepared for violent action at all times. This was just one more of those times.
My right hand slid out of the grasp of the man who was trying to pin it down. I managed this trick with the aid of the combat knife my parents had given me some time back. Knives in my time were sharper than they had been in the past. Using advanced metallurgical techniques and molecular alignments, a knife could be made to cut through flesh and bone as easily as paper. One could even puncture steel plate if driven with sufficient force.
But of course before that could happen, the owner of the knife had to be a man paranoid enough to sleep with such a weapon in his grasp. I happened to be just such a man. Fingers, straps, blankets—they all parted before the glittering white line of my knife’s edge.
One of my assailants started howling, he a
lso released his grip on my forearm. My blade flashed up to the man holding a strap around my neck. This guy was quicker however, and he managed to get his two hands around my wrist before I could drive the point of my blade into his face.
“Dammit McGill!” Harris hissed. “Stop struggling. This is the beginning of your trial!”
“Sorry Vet,” I said.
Someone snapped on the lights. I looked around at the men that surrounded me. They were the same veterans who had accosted me back on Earth.
My knife made a sweeping motion, and they hastily withdrew their hands. I slashed my bonds and sat up on my bunk.
“You boys really should let a man know when you’re going to pull something like this,” I said. “Somebody might get hurt.”
Harris put his big face into mine. “You’re coming with us, candidate.”
“Sure thing, Vet. Lead the way.”
They retreated from my bunk while I got to my feet, stretched, and pulled on my clothes.
As none of them were wearing armor, I didn’t bother to put on mine, either. They led me to Green Deck, and we followed the stream that wound through the middle of the forested section. The stream terminated and spilled into a tiny artificial canyon, forming a waterfall. We walked down a path to the bottom of the canyon.
Overhead, I could see stars sliding gently by through the simulated glass dome. I could tell that the stars had shifted since the last time I’d looked at them with Della some hours ago. The pinpoints of white light moved with almost imperceptible slowness, like the hands of a clock.
We reached the end of the path and stood at the sandy bottom of the canyon. I spotted a group of several other candidates. Their heads were in sacks, and they lay on their bellies with their wrists tied to their ankles. Each of them was trussed up like a Christmas turkey.
“Oh, I get it,” I said. “I was supposed to be tied up, wasn’t I?”
One of the veterans stepped up to me angrily. I recognized him in the starlight. He was none other than Veteran Johnson of 1st Platoon.
“You’re mocking us aren’t you?” he demanded.
“Why no, Vet,” I said. “Whatever gave you that idea?” I knew I shouldn’t do it, but I gave him a little grin.
