Recon- the Complete Series
Page 94
“Yeah,” Sanders agreed. He looked at something past the wall, some memory light-years away. “You know, Vic and Kurt, I’m not sure they wanted out of this, out of what we do…” He waved a hand in resignation. “What we’ve done. I don’t know what they would have wound up doing now that it’s over.”
“For some people,” I admitted, “the war never ended. And it never will.”
“How about you, Boss…,” Sanders stopped himself, mouth twisting into a smile. “I mean, Munroe?” I snorted. Yeah, I wasn’t his boss anymore. “Is your war over?”
I wanted to be reassuring, to tell him what he needed to hear. Instead, I was honest.
“I guess I’ll find out as soon as they let me go home.”
***
Inferno was still the humid, oppressive hell-hole I remembered from the war, and twice as bad in the afternoon, when 82 Eridani beat down on the pavement like an oven and roasted anyone unlucky enough to be walking under it. I still felt the sweat trickling down the small of my back as I walked through the entrance to General Murdock’s suite of offices, but the blast of cold, climate-conditioned air turned it to a damp chill, like putting on wet clothes during a snowstorm.
“I’m here to see the General,” I told the live, human clerk at the reception desk outside Murdock’s personal office. The Technician Second Class eyed me dubiously, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
I was still wearing the reflex armor, mostly because I didn’t have any other clothes. They’d ferried the Nomad down to Inferno while we’d been on our mission and every piece of civilian clothing I had was in my cabin on that ship. And they wouldn’t let Sanders and Vilberg and me board the ship until I’d reported to Murdock, so it was this or shorts and a T-shirt. I’d considered carrying a sidearm just to see how they’d react, but I’d thought better of it.
“You’re Sgt. Munroe,” he said, more a formality than a question; I was sure he knew exactly who I was. “Just a moment.”
“Send him in,” Murdock’s bland, soft-toned voice came over a concealed speaker somewhere on the desk before the Tech-2 had a chance to announce me.
The clerk nodded to me and the door slid aside. I took a breath and stepped through. The office was as unassuming and generic as Murdock himself, decorated in your basic Professional Fleet Officer motif, except for a single extravagance: a katana hung on the wall, its hilt wrapped in what looked like shark skin, its blade polished and oiled but with a tiny nick here and there that made me think it had been used, in training at least. Beneath it, but just as sharp and deadly, Murdock waited for me at his desk.
The door slid shut.
“Have a seat,” he said, shooting a glance at the upholstered chair across from him. He didn’t get up, but I didn’t take it personally.
He regarded me silently for a moment, with a look I couldn’t even try to interpret, and I wondered for a second if I’d done something to piss him off.
“I was sorry to hear about the loss of your friends,” he finally spoke up. He sounded solicitous and I could buy that or not, at my choice.
“I heard your XO, Major M’Voba was killed in the fight, too,” I noted. “He seemed like a good officer.”
“The best I’ve ever known,” Murdock confirmed, with a hint of emotion that I actually believed was genuine. “This was his life, though, and he went down fighting for what he believed in.”
“Must be nice to know what that is,” I said, and heard in my own voice a bitterness I hadn’t realized was there.
“You used to,” he stated. “You used to be so certain that you gave up a life most people would kill for, a life ninety-nine percent of people dream of, just so you wouldn’t have to give up what you believed in.”
My eyes narrowed. Murdock wasn’t a man to waste words, or his time; I hadn’t known him long, but I’d figured that out the first minute. He hadn’t brought me into the office to offer condolences or to commiserate about my loss of personal direction.
“What are you selling, General?” I wondered.
Now he smiled, thinly, just a brief upturn at the corner of his mouth. I think he enjoyed it when people saw through his bullshit.
“You’re out of a job, Sgt. Munroe. I’d like to offer you a new one.”
I laughed softly at that, shaking my head.
“Feels like déjà vu,” I explained. “Is it that hard to find a good door-kicker?”
“What’s hard,” he countered, his face serious, “is finding someone I can trust to finish the mission on their own, without me holding their hand, and without orbital strikes and air support and a platoon of Fleet Marines on call. You do the job, Marine, and you do it with whatever you have on hand. I could use people like that, particularly with the losses I’ve had on this operation.”
“Sir,” I replied, “maybe if you ask me that in a month, I’ll have a different answer for you, but right now, I just want to get home to see my family. I haven’t even been able to call them. Do you have any word on if they’re okay?”
“They’re both fine,” he assured me, and I felt a weight slipping off my shoulders, a sigh escaping unbidden. “Your mother has been with them on Demeter since not long after you left Hermes, along with a full complement of her personal bodyguards. As far as I know, there was no attempt made to reach them by Calderon or West or any of Andre’s people.”
“Huh,” I grunted thoughtfully. “Mom came through. Will wonders never cease?”
“Many wonders there be,” Murdock quoted at me, “but none more wondrous than man.”
“Sophocles,” I said, ahead of my headcomp having to remind me, “Antigone. Gramps used to say that.”
“Things are going to be changing,” Murdock went on, as if this statement meshed neatly with his previous one. “President Jameson is on his way out, and the Senate’s going to disband the Corporate Council. There’s going to be a power shift, and Patrice Damiani has put herself in a very nice position to take advantage of it.”
“She’s a cat,” I agreed. “Always lands on her feet.”
I chose my next words carefully, not wanting them to come off the wrong way and sound like a disillusioned child.
“She took care of my family, and she’s still my mother. But putting her in place of Uncle Andre, giving her that kind of power…” I hunted for a metaphor and came up with a simile instead. “That would be like running away from a grizzly into a mountain lion. You’re not an idiot, General, so I don’t need to tell you not to trust her.”
Now he did laugh, a real laugh, open and coming from deep in his belly with an honesty that surprised me and probably even surprised him.
“Sgt. Munroe,” he said, still chuckling, “do I seem to you like a man who’s burdened with an overabundance of trust?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Nothing looked different, yet everything was. I could sense it in the air, feel it in the warm glow of the spring afternoon that welcomed me home, replacing the late-winter chill of my departure. I could feel it in the grass beneath my feet, still wet from last night’s shower and the teasing drips of dew from the trees that lined our driveway touching the back of my neck.
The guards hadn’t challenged me on the drive in, even though I’d seen them at checkpoints along the road. They’d known I was coming and had nodded with professional courtesy, their casual jackets concealing their body armor and handguns, their utility rovers parked on the side of the road undoubtedly stocked with much heavier ordnance. They all had a look about them, a cool, distant stare and a resting readiness and the promise of imminent violence if they considered you a threat. I wondered if that was how I looked to other people.
I wondered if it was possible to stop.
The guards around the house were less obvious, and I knew I wasn’t seeing most of them. For each one I spotted stationed at a window or pacing around the perimeter, I was sure there were two or three out in sniper hides or controlling insect drones. Mom was nothing if not thorough, and for once, I appreciated it.
Sophia was dressed in her usual work clothes, and I wondered how many guards Mom had been able to convince her to take with her out in the forest preserve. Her dark hair was tied into a ponytail and I was reminded of the first time we’d met, when she’d saved my life after everyone else in my squad had been lost to a Tahni ambush.
Was that ten years ago now? Were we both that old?
Sophia tried to be cool and casual, but she lost it when she got about two meters away and she ran the last few steps and I took her in my arms and felt the strength and fierceness of her grip. She was crying, sobbing softly into my shoulder, and I discovered after a moment that I was, too. I cried for Victor and Kurt, and for Bobbi, and for Kane, and for Captain Yassa, and for Gramps, and for myself.
I kissed her, kissed the tears on her cheeks and tasted their saltiness on her lips. We held onto each other for a long time, not speaking, knowing the words and not needing to say them.
“Dad!”
Cesar came barreling out of the door, trailed by my mother. She was amazingly unobtrusive in clothes that looked like they could have come out of the closet of any local but were probably vat-grown to her exact measurements. I ignored her for the moment, turning my attention to the mop-haired little dynamo launching himself toward me.
I caught him in mid-leap and spun him around once before pulling him into a hug.
“Dad, Mom told me you’d be back today! How was your trip? Gran’ma stayed with us while you were gone…do you know she has a house on top of a big, giant building on Earth? I saw vids of it! And she brought all her friends and they went with me to school and they were all really nice to me and…”
“I missed you, kiddo,” I said, kissing him on the forehead.
“Are you going to be home for a while this time?” He asked me, smiling, as if all was right with the world. And maybe it was.
“Yeah,” I told him, grinning. “I think I’m going to be home for a long while this time.”
“Welcome home, son,” Mother said from the doorway, after waiting a decent interval to let me greet Cesar. “I’ve heard that things went well.”
“Some things did.” I set Cesar back down on his feet, slipping an arm around Sophia’s shoulder. “Let’s go inside.”
As I stepped in through the mud room to the kitchen, I had the sudden realization that this was the first time in years that I could remember walking into the house unarmed. It felt strange; the weight of the pistol under my left arm had become a natural thing, and its absence was unnatural. But I’d left all my weapons---and the reflex armor Murdock had invited me to keep, probably with ulterior motives---back on the Nomad at the port. The ship was mine, as well; Murdock had taken care of getting the registration details changed and Cowboy sure as hell wasn’t going to make a claim on her from the great beyond.
The guards I’d spotted from outside were invisible from the living room; I figured Mom had ordered them to be as discreet as possible. I fell into a seat on the couch with a weariness that had skipped my body and sunk straight into my soul. I never realized how much I missed being home until I returned…not just the people, but the sensation of being someplace stable and solid.
Sophia sat down next to me, the fingers of my left hand and her right still intertwined so tight that I didn’t know if we’d ever let go, while Cesar half-draped himself over me on the other side. He’d gotten taller and heavier in just the few months I’d been gone. Mother took the cushioned seat across the coffee table and I was struck by how much less…wound up she seemed. She looked relaxed, as if she wasn’t spinning a million plates in the air at once for the first time in decades.
“Thank you for keeping them safe,” I said to her.
“You gave me no palatable alternative,” she reminded me and I wondered for a second if she was being serious, but then I saw the hint of a smile. “They’re your family, Tyler, and that makes them my family. I’ve made mistakes; these last few years have made that clear, and so have these last few weeks with Sophia. Your partner is a very perceptive woman, with a clear idea of what she wants, qualities I very much appreciate.”
I glanced between them suspiciously and Sophia laughed, squeezing my hand.
“Your mother isn’t quite the ogre I expected once we actually had time to talk,” she confided.
“Oh, I used to be,” Mom assured her, leaning back in her chair, legs crossed casually, hands clutching her knee. “When you spend decades at the top of the food chain with not a soul willing to tell you no and make it stick, well…” She shrugged. “You tend to forget that there are people who won’t be controlled and won’t be bought.” She eyed me significantly. “And you also forget what it’s like to be the prey. Andre reminded me of that quite effectively.” A smaller shrug. “And, I suspect, the Senate hearings I’ve been ordered to attend next month will drive the lesson home.”
“Things are going to change,” I echoed Murdock’s words to me. “But they always do,” I added my own contribution. “Uncle Andre knew that. He knew that the setup you had wasn’t going to last, but his solution was to double down on control, to make everything else change while the Corporate Council stayed the same.” I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Maybe you should consider that it’s time to evolve with the situation instead of trying to control it.”
She nodded slowly.
“You could be a part of that,” she offered. “This is going to be an upheaval, a seismic event. Everyone will be grabbing whatever straw they can to survive, stabbing each other in the back fighting over crumbs. I could use someone there that I could trust, and you’ve never lied to me, Tyler, even when I didn’t want to hear the truth.”
I laughed at that, at the absurdity of it.
“Mom,” I reminded her, “I never set foot in business school and the only way I know to deal with someone trying to stab you in the back is to shoot them in the face.”
Sophia kicked me, indicating Cesar with a jerk of her head and giving me the stink-eye.
“Sorry,” I amended.
“Business acumen can be learned,” Mom reminded me, “and experience is the best teacher. You have a brilliant mind, son…and that’s not just a proud mother speaking, I had you engineered that way, and tested to make sure the geneticists did their job correctly. I’d hate to see that go to waste.” There was that old familiar gleam in her eye, the one that lit up whenever the gears started to turn. “How about this? You could live on a ranch in the Yosemite Valley…or our family house in the Tetons. Two weeks of the month telecommuting, two weeks in Trans-Angeles or wherever I need you.”
I opened my mouth to say no, automatically, but then paused, seeing the intrigued expression on Sophia’s face. The Tetons were beautiful, and it would be nice for Cesar to see Earth.
“I’ll need some time to consider it,” I told her. “That is not a yes,” I warned her as I saw a flare of expectation erupt. “Not even a maybe. I just need to talk it over with Sophie after I’ve had a few days to unwind here. You go get ready for your hearings, I’ll message you one way or another.”
She nodded acceptance, rising from her chair.
“I suppose that’s the best response I could hope for,” she mused. “I should be going. Things will be moving swiftly once the word spreads of Andre’s death.”
“Even if Munroe doesn’t take the job,” Sophia chimed in, surprising me, “please come back. I’d like Cesar to be able to spend more time with you.”
“Are you leaving, Gran’ma?” Cesar jumped up from the couch and ran over to hug her around the waist.
There was a look on Mom’s face that I could
n’t remember ever seeing before, something very human. She took a knee and wrapped my son in a warm, affectionate embrace.
“For a while, Cesar,” she told him. “But I’ll see you again soon.”
“I love you, Gran’ma.” For some reason, the words rocked me back like a wave of unreality. Had I ever expected to hear them? I’d surely never expected to hear her reply.
“I love you too, boy.”
Mom wiped at something in her eye as she straightened, then she nodded to me.
“I look forward to hearing from you…Munroe.”
And then she was gone. In less than two minutes, her guards had vacated the house and they’d all loaded up in the three utility rovers they’d parked along the road beside our house. They left with a scraping of tires on mud as we watched from the door.
“Do you really think we can trust her?” I asked Sophia softly as Cesar waved from the driveway.
“I think you can trust her to do what’s in her own self-interest,” she stated with her usual clarity. Then she shrugged. “But I think, maybe, now, the three of us are part of her notion of self-interest. The question isn’t what I think, Munroe.” She turned and looked me in the eye. “The question is what you want.”
“You love it here, though,” I protested.
“I do,” she admitted. “And if we leave, I want to come back someday. But a chance to live on Earth, and not in the mega-cities…” She smiled at the thought. “Don’t hold back because of me. What do you want?”
That was a damn good question.
Did I want to go work for Murdock, keep kicking doors and fighting fires, this time for the military?
Did I want to head back to Earth and finally step into the position next to my Mother that I’d run away from so many years ago now?
Or did I just want to stay here, work for the Constabulary again, putter around in our garden, help Sophia put radio tags on megafauna, raise a couple more kids?
I watched Mom and her party drive away, watched Cesar chasing them down the dirt road just for the fun of running in the mud. It felt very good to just be alive right now, and all the other stuff could wait.