Obligations

by Kevin Ikenberry

  “Roger, Saber Six. Displacing now. Will report from mortar position. OP Two, out.”

  He passed the handset back to the trooper and put his hands on his hips for a moment and then thought better of it. There wasn’t time to relax.

  “Back to the wall. Good job, troopers. Move out!”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Nine

  The scene at the top of the wall was not what Bo expected. Aliza and the others had the wounded ready for evacuation. Those who could walk moved up the slope toward the top of the tableland where a truck-become-ambulance was standing by. Those who could not walk were carried atop the whinnies. The remaining soldiers silently collected the dead and secured their weapons and equipment.

  Aliza saw Bo approach and walked in his direction. “Six dead. Fourteen wounded. Only two seriously. We’re moving them up to the rim as quickly as we can. Lieutenant Meehan has vehicles standing by to recover us.”

  Bo nodded. “Anything else?”

  “There’s a potable spring just up the draw. The way it flows back underground suggests there might be a cave system here. Maybe an aquifer, too. That could be useful during the Sear.” Aliza said. She tucked an errant lock of hair behind one ear and kept talking. “There are some medicinals at the spring. We’ve identified several species including londau’d and ogh-ul. They are perennials, but extremely rare. Rare enough that when the actual Harvesters arrive, they are almost certain to know to come here in search of them. And I think there are more nearby.”

  “Get what you can, Aliza,” Bo replied. “But you have to hurry. If the J’Stull don’t keep running, they’ll soon realize that we’ve blocked the fastest ways up to the tableland. If they can, they’ll come after us again. We’ll be ready for that, but if they do, they’ve seen our positions and know the kind of force and tactics they’ll need. So, we’ve got to be gone if and when they get here.”

  Aliza sighed and a faint smile crossed her lips. “I’ve been wishing to not be here since I woke.”

  He squinted at her. “But you feel differently now?”

  She nodded. “It’s not something I can explain.”

  For a moment, Bo wanted to push the subject, but something held him back. “Would you take me to the spring and show me the medicinals? You’re better versed on them than I am. I wouldn’t know what to look for if it was sprouting right in front of me.”

  She grinned. “It’s right over there.”

  Bo slid off Scout and absently brushed the dust and dirt from his pants before falling into step alongside the young brunette. They walked in silence. With a fresh breeze rustling the vegetation and the wind pushing the smells of battle away from them, the early afternoon was almost pleasant.

  The tiny pool of water looked cool and inviting. They stopped and Bo knelt by the water’s edge and studied the clear liquid and the various multi-colored and very alien looking plants there. “And we’re sure it’s safe to drink?”

  “Athena drank from it with no ill effects,” Aliza replied. “The whinnies have always shied away from the water sources we determined to be bad. It bodes well for this one.”

  “That’s still taking an awful risk, Aliza.”

  She knelt beside him, stuck both hands into the water and made a reservoir with her palms. Before he could stop her, she brought her hands to her face and said, “L’Chaim!”

  “What did you just do?”

  Aliza made a satisfied sound and laughed. “I took your risks for you, Bo. Sometimes the greatest risk is to take none.”

  He reached out and took her hand. When she didn’t flinch away, he smiled at her. “That’s not something I want you to do for me, Aliza. What does that mean? L’Chaim?”

  “‘To life.’” Her smile slipped away. “Every moment you have it, is a moment worth celebrating.”

  “I suppose so,” Bo said. He wanted to stare into her eyes, but he glanced away.

  When she spoke again, her voice was faint, tentative. “Sergeant Whittaker said you needed to find your heart, Bo. What did he mean?”

  Bo chuckled and shook his head as he brought his eyes back to hers. “None of us started this new future with a blank slate. Some of us have carried more pain than any human should carry.”

  “Maybe there’s a way past that pain?” She squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture.

  He looked at her for a long moment. “I can’t even imagine what you went through, Aliza.”

  “You won’t have to.” She smiled. “This life will differ from our old ones.”

  Bo chuckled. “I haven’t looked at it that way.”

  “Whittaker said”—a tremor of grief passed across her features—“he said that dying twice was worth it because he lived twice. I think I know what he meant. Living again makes all of this new pain worth it. Particularly because we can use our past to show us how to live better now, rather than allow it to define us all over again.” She frowned slightly but was also smiling. “Does that make sense to you?”

  “It does.”

  “I know we’re here for a reason and on this mission for a reason.” Aliza took a breath. “But I think we’re supposed to do much more than hold this ground. We might not be obligated to complete the work, but we cannot abandon it. At least that’s what the Talmud says.”

  “That ain’t exactly my department.” Bo smiled at her. “I agree that we’re part of something much bigger than just us. But I think you’re right; to achieve anything, we have to be here for each other.”

  She smiled, and it captivated him. Aliza Turan was as beautiful as she was genuine and resilient. He’d been very wrong about her.

  His heart hammered in his chest when she asked, “So assuming we do not have to flee and keep fleeing—something with which my ancestors were quite familiar—what do we do next?”

  Bo tried to force himself to focus on the larger mission. “Two things. One, we really need to understand the whinnies and just how smart they are. Allies out here are scarce and we haven’t even scratched the surface of what they are capable of. Two? One of my lieutenants used to say the simple things were always hard and the hard things were always simple. I think in this case he’s right.” About more things than one.

  “What do you mean, Bo?” Aliza squinted at him.

  He looked at her but heard Sharron saying the words that, had she been here, he might now have said to her: I’ve found someone else who is everything you are not. I can’t help but wonder if I’d met them first would I ever have married you? I settled for you, and I was wrong. I’ve found someone who’ll be here for me. You never were. They’ll love me in a way you never could.

  Bo looked down and opened the slanted pocket on his uniform blouse. He removed the yellowed paper from its plastic bag and, without unfolding it, slowly tore it into thin strips and then into tiny squares. He scattered them into the freshening wind.

  I can’t carry the past anymore. The future is too important. Goodbye, Sharron. Bo took a long breath and exhaled slowly.

  Aliza put a hand on his arm. “What was that?”

  “The letter my ex-wife sent to tell me it was over. I opened it the morning the Ktor snagged me. They kept it and made sure I had it.”

  Her face twisted in a question. “Why would they do such a thing? Surely they read and understood it.”

  “Maybe.” Bo shrugged. “Maybe they thought it would anchor me to who I was or to whatever they had planned for all of us. Or to focus my resentment and anger at her, even more than at them. Either way, I’m done with that.”

  She smiled again and rolled her left elbow outward, revealing the blue numbers on her smooth inner forearm. “I can’t get rid of this so easily.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He looked down at her. One hand traced the line of her jaw and she did not flinch away. Her eyes were dark brown, almost black, yet very bright. So bright that, like mirrors, he saw himself in them, and something far greater, besides. “Like you said, our past doesn’t define us, Aliza. We don’t have the t
ime to even give it another moment’s thought.”

  She nodded. “Because this isn’t over.” Aliza stared into his eyes. “It hasn’t really started, has it?”

  “Not at all. They’re coming for us, Aliza. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but they’re coming. So, if we want this second chance at life, we have to be ready for them. For anything, really. Even the things we never thought would happen again. There’s too much at stake now. Like you said, we might not be obligated to this unexpected future, but we damned sure can’t abandon it.”

  # # # # #

  About Kevin Ikenberry

  Kevin Ikenberry is a life-long space geek and retired Army officer. A former manager of the world-renowned U.S. Space Camp program and space operations officer, Kevin has a broad background in space and space science education. His 2016 debut science fiction novel Sleeper Protocol was a Finalist for the Colorado Book Award and was heralded as “an emotionally powerful debut” by Publisher’s Weekly. Kevin is the author of the military science fiction / thriller novels Runs In The Family, Vendetta Protocol, and Super-Sync. Kevin is a core author in the Four Horsemen Universe where his novels include Peacemaker, Honor The Threat, Stand Or Fall, Deathangel, and Redacted Affairs (with Kevin Steverson). He is an Active Member of SFWA, and a member of International Thriller Writers. He lives in Colorado with his family – his home is seldom a boring place.

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  The following is an

  Excerpt from Book One of the Revelations Cycle:

  Cartwright’s Cavaliers

  ___________________

  Mark Wandrey

  Available Now from Seventh Seal Press

  eBook, Paperback, and Audio

  Excerpt from “Cartwright’s Cavaliers:”

  The last two operational tanks were trapped on their chosen path. Faced with destroyed vehicles front and back, they cut sideways to the edge of the dry river bed they’d been moving along and found several large boulders to maneuver around that allowed them to present a hull-down defensive position. Their troopers rallied on that position. It was starting to look like they’d dig in when Phoenix 1 screamed over and strafed them with dual streams of railgun rounds. A split second later, Phoenix 2 followed on a parallel path. Jim was just cheering the air attack when he saw it. The sixth damned tank, and it was a heavy.

  “I got that last tank,” Jim said over the command net.

  “Observe and stand by,” Murdock said.

  “We’ll have these in hand shortly,” Buddha agreed, his transmission interspersed with the thudding of his CASPer firing its magnet accelerator. “We can be there in a few minutes.”

  Jim examined his battlespace. The tank was massive. It had to be one of the fusion-powered beasts he’d read about. Which meant shields and energy weapons. It was heading down the same gap the APC had taken, so it was heading toward Second Squad, and fast.

  “Shit,” he said.

  “Jim,” Hargrave said, “we’re in position. What are you doing?”

  “Leading,” Jim said as he jumped out from the rock wall.

  * * * * *

  Get “Cartwright’s Cavaliers” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MRZKM95/.

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  The following is an

  Excerpt from Book One of the Salvage Title Trilogy:

  Salvage Title

  ___________________

  Kevin Steverson

  Now Available from Theogony Books

  eBook, Paperback, and Audio

  Excerpt from “Salvage Title:”

  A steady beeping brought Harmon back to the present. Clip’s program had succeeded in unlocking the container. “Right on!” Clip exclaimed. He was always using expressions hundreds or more years out of style. “Let’s see what we have; I hope this one isn’t empty, too.” Last month they’d come across a smaller vault, but it had been empty.

  Harmon stepped up and wedged his hands into the small opening the door had made when it disengaged the locks. There wasn’t enough power in the small cells Clip used to open it any further. He put his weight into it, and the door opened enough for them to get inside. Before they went in, Harmon placed a piece of pipe in the doorway so it couldn’t close and lock on them, baking them alive before anyone realized they were missing.

  Daylight shone in through the doorway, and they both froze in place; the weapons vault was full. In it were two racks of rifles, stacked on top of each other. One held twenty magnetic kinetic rifles, and the other held some type of laser rifle. There was a rack of pistols of various types. There were three cases of flechette grenades and one of thermite. There were cases of ammunition and power clips for the rifles and pistols, and all the weapons looked to be in good shape, even if they were of a strange design and clearly not made in this system. Harmon couldn’t tell what system they had been made in, but he could tell what they were.

  There were three upright containers on one side and three more against the back wall that looked like lockers. Five of the containers were not locked, so Clip opened them. The first three each held two sets of light battle armor that looked like it was designed for a humanoid race with four arms. The helmets looked like the ones Harmon had worn at the academy, but they were a little long in the face. The next container held a heavy battle suit—one that could be sealed against vacuum. It was also designed for a being with four arms. All the armor showed signs of wear, with scuffed helmets. The fifth container held shelves with three sizes of power cells on them. The largest power cells—four of them—were big enough to run a mech.

  Harmon tried to force the handle open on the last container, thinking it may have gotten stuck over time, but it was locked and all he did was hurt his hand. The vault seemed like it had been closed for years.

  Clip laughed and said, “That won’t work. It’s not age or metal fatigue keeping the door closed. Look at this stuff. It may be old, but it has been sealed in for years. It’s all in great shape.”

  “Well
, work some of your tech magic then, ‘Puter Boy,” Harmon said, shaking out his hand.

  Clip pulled out a small laser pen and went to work on the container. It took another ten minutes, but finally he was through to the locking mechanism. It didn’t take long after that to get it open.

  Inside, there were two items—an eight-inch cube on a shelf that looked like a hard drive or a computer and the large power cell it was connected to. Harmon reached for it, but Clip grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t! Let me check it before you move it. It’s hooked up to that power cell for a reason. I want to know why.”

  Harmon shrugged. “Okay, but I don’t see any lights; it has probably been dead for years.”

  Clip took a sensor reader out of his kit, one of the many tools he had improved. He checked the cell and the device. There was a faint amount of power running to it that barely registered on his screen. There were several ports on the back along with the slot where the power cell was hooked in. He checked to make sure the connections were tight, he then carried the two devices to the hovercraft.

  Clip then called Rinto’s personal comm from the communicator in the hovercraft. When Rinto answered, Clip looked at Harmon and winked. “Hey boss, we found some stuff worth a hovercraft full of credit…probably two. Can we have it?” he asked.