The men cheered and roared, already raising dollar bills.
The Magic Man's fingers dug into her arm.
"Allow me to introduce our newest cowgirl!" He spun Maria around. "Fresh from the provinces. Meet Holy Maria, a true virgin!"
The men roared and thrust their hips at her. The bidding began.
Maria closed her eyes, another tear fell, and she thought of home.
Chapter Forty-Two
Of Love and Lies
She was the most beautiful woman Jon had ever seen.
She stood onstage, dressed in white, virginal and innocent. A tear flowed down her cheek, and Jon's heart broke.
Holy Maria. An angel in hell.
"This is bullshit," Etty muttered, sitting at the table beside Jon. "I'm getting out of this bar."
George nodded. "Me too."
But Jon just sat there, looking at the girl onstage. She had silky black hair. Smooth olive-toned skin. A slender frame. And such sadness. Such purity. In the spotlight, she seemed to glow, a saint in the darkness.
"Holy Maria!" her pimp said, strutting across the stage. His bracelets jangled. "Who will bid on this beautiful virgin?"
George and Etty were already walking away. They looked back at Jon.
"Buddy, let's get out of here," George said.
But Jon could not tear his eyes away.
Men began to bid. Fifty dollars. Sixty. Soon a hundred dollars for the night—far more expensive than any other girl. Even soldiers who had already hired bargirls were bidding, ready for another round. And the bids kept climbing.
Clay Hagen climbed onto a table. He was still wearing his necklace of severed human ears.
"Two hundred dollars!" he cried and brandished the money.
Soldiers around him cursed and sat down, outbid.
Jon stared in horror.
"Two hundred dollars!" the Magic Man announced. "The highest price ever recorded in the Go Go Cowgirl! Congratulations, Holy Maria!"
Clay grinned and began unbuckling his belt. "She won't be so holy soon." He laughed. "Or so pretty. Not when I'm done with her."
Maria looked at him from the stage. She saw the severed ears, and she paled. She tried to flee, but the Magic Man held her fast. The girl trembled. Clay advanced toward her, licking his lips.
Jon stood up.
"Three hundred dollars!" he said.
His friends looked at him like he was crazy.
Clay spun toward him, a snarl replacing his grin.
"She's mine! I already bought her."
"You lost, Clay!" Jon said. "You were outbid."
They both turned toward the Magic Man, awaiting his judgment like peasants before a king. The pimp practically had dollar signs in his eyes. He took Maria's hand and raised it overhead.
"And the winner, for three hundred dollars, is…" He raised his eyebrows. "Your name, sir?"
"Private Jon Taylor!" Etty said, running up and pointing at Jon.
"Private Jon Taylor!" the Magic Man repeated. "Congratulation!"
The pimp began dragging Maria toward Jon, holding her tightly enough to leave bruises
But Clay was not going down without a fight. The brute kicked over a table, knocking over empty beer mugs and chicken bones, and roared. "This is bullshit!" He glared at Jon. "You don't have three hundred dollars, you piece of shit. No soldier does unless he's a fucking general."
Clay was right. Soldiers didn't earn much in the Human Defense Force. Just a few dollars a day, enough to buy supplies at the commissary, maybe enjoy a night out every few months. Jon opened his wallet and counted. He had ninety-three dollars. His entire life savings.
"See?" Clay said. "He can't pay up! The girl is mine."
He reached for Maria, pulled her toward him. His fingers tightened, looked ready to snap her arm. Maria cringed, turned away, and a tear fell. Clay pulled her closer and licked the tear off her cheek.
"Wait, Jon!" Etty opened her wallet. "Remember how you gave me money earlier? To hold onto so you don't overspend on beer?"
"No, I didn't—" Jon caught himself. "Um, yes! Of course. Can I have my money back now?"
Etty handed him all her own money, an act of kindness Jon vowed to never forget.
"You gave me some of your money too," George said, opening his wallet. "Here, have it back, Jon."
Jon wanted to hug his friends. It would have to wait.
He handed the money toward the Magic Man—a big sweaty wad of bills. "Here you go. The promised price. Maria is mine for the night."
Clay froze, teeth bared, still holding Maria. Everyone in the bar was watching.
The Magic Man counted the dollars. He looked up at Jon. "You're seventeen dollars short."
Clay laughed.
One of the bargirls ran up, wobbling on high heels. She wore red lingerie, a cowboy hat, and an assortment of bruises and teeth marks. Jon remembered her. The first girl to dance tonight. Charlie Wonder.
"Mister Jon!" the bargirl said. "You dropped something!"
Charlie pulled a twenty dollar bill from her bra and handed it to him.
Jon's eyes softened. How could he take this money from her? It was probably all her earnings tonight.
"Take it," Charlie whispered. "Be good to her."
Jon took the money. He handed it to the Magic Man.
The crowd cheered, and Clay roared and smashed a table.
"Sold!" the Magic Man said. "Congratulation, Private Jon Taylor, winner of Holy Maria!"
The pimp shoved the girl toward Jon. And then Maria was in his arms, trembling, his angel for the night.
* * * * *
The girl led Jon upstairs, eyes downcast, still trembling. But she clung to his hand like a drowning woman. Her hand was small, almost vanishing in his own, and Jon held it tightly.
They walked down a concrete corridor, navigating around rolling bottles, a sleeping sergeant, and a corporal with his pants around his ankles, thrusting into a bargirl right there on the floor.
Maria took Jon into a little room. There was no door, only a curtain, and she pulled it shut. Mold and cracks covered the walls, and dust drifted across the floor.
They were alone.
The girl stood before him, trembling, daring not meet his eyes. A tear dangled off her chin.
"I won't hurt you, Maria," Jon said. "I didn't want that other soldier to hurt you either. I'll keep you safe tonight."
She glanced into his eyes, then down again. She had beautiful eyes, Jon thought. Dark, intelligent, and haunted.
"Thank you, Sir Jon," she said. Her head was still lowered, and her hair framed her face.
Jon hesitated, then brushed back her hair. It was soft as silk. He tucked the strands behind her ear, revealing a bruise on her cheek.
"Who hurt you?" he said.
She looked down again. "I fell. I'm clumsy."
She began working at the straps of her dress, awkward, eyes downcast. The straps finally opened, and her dress puddled around her feet. She stood before him naked but for her cross pendant. Jon couldn't help but admire her body. She was slender, but in a graceful way, not the starving look many in this city had. Her skin was dark and smooth, her breasts small, and Jon felt his blood heating.
She's mine for the night, he thought. And she's beautiful. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I can have her. All night long.
But he looked away.
"You don't have to do this," he said.
Tears spiked her lashes. "I'm sorry, Sir Jon. I don't mean to cry. Or to be so awkward. I know my job is to pleasure men. But I'm a virgin."
Jon said something he would never dare confess to his fellow soldiers. "So am I."
Maria blinked, tilted her head, and then suddenly she was laughing. She was actually laughing! The girl who only moments ago was trembling and crying.
Jon shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Um, surely it's not that funny. I mean, I kissed a girl once. Her name is Kaelyn. Not that you want to hear about her now. I mean, not that I'm going
to do anything. I mean, if you don't want me to. I mean, if you did want to… But you don't, so…" His cheeks were hot. "Oh boy, now I'm the awkward one."
She laughed harder. "You're funny, Sir Jon. You're not like the other Earthlings."
"You can just call me Jon," he said. "Is Maria your real name? I noticed that the other girls have stripper names. Cookie, Amber, Kitty, that kind of thing."
She smiled. "Yes, my real name is Maria de la Cruz. It means Maria of the cross."
"I'm Jon Taylor. It means…" He thought for a moment. "Hell, I don't know. I guess it means that I'm just a dumb Earthling who probably has no business being here."
She blinked at him. "Being here?" She looked around at the room.
"No, I mean—being on Bahay," Jon said. "I like being in your room."
She lowered her eyelids shyly. "I like you too." She blushed and covered her cheeks. "You meant you like my room, not me! I'm sorry. I just talk so much sometimes. Like an idiot who can't stop ever talking. My mother said my head is too big, and that it's full of too many questions and nonsense, and she would always say: Maria, be quiet, and don't speak so much, because you just go on and on, and annoy everyone, and—" She covered her mouth. "And now I'm doing it again, and it's because I'm nervous, and—"
"Maria?" Jon said.
She blinked at him. "Yes?"
He held her hand. "I like you too."
Her blush deepened.
Jon looked around the room. It was austere. There was a cot. Concrete walls. A cracked dresser. That was about it. A small window revealed flashing lights outside. The din of rickshaws, mopeds, and drunken Earthlings spilled in from the night. The room seemed as depressing as a prison cell.
He looked back at Maria, a rose growing from concrete.
"Well, we have all night," Jon said. "Want to play cards?"
"I don't know how," Maria said.
He pulled a deck from his pocket. "I'll teach you. How about gin rummy?"
She blinked. "You would like me to get you a drink?"
He laughed, sat down on the bed, and patted the spot beside him. "Come, I'll teach you."
She pulled her dress back on, and they began to play. Within minutes, she had mastered the game. He beat her the first two times. Then she beat him, and she jumped for joy, laughed, and her eyes shone. There was true joy there. Still a lot of pain. Jon knew that she must have suffered great pain in this war. But also true joy, and it warmed his heart that he could make her laugh.
"Again, again!" Maria said, shuffling the deck.
"I let you win last time."
She shoved him playfully. "You liar! I'm clearly much better than you. Go on, your turn!"
They played again, and she won again, and her smile was huge and bright, and her eyes sparkled.
"You cheated!" Jon said.
She laughed and pushed him. "I did not."
"Sure you did."
She gasped. "How dare you accuse me! I'm going to tickle you to death."
She began tickling him, and Jon laughed and grabbed her wrists, and for a moment they struggled on the bed, laughing and wrestling, until they fell on their backs. They lay atop the cards, looking up at the ceiling, exhausted.
They were silent for a long moment.
Then Jon spoke.
"Maria, I'm sorry."
She frowned. "For what?"
His eyes dampened. "For doing this. For being here. I… killed people, Maria. I don't know how many. I dropped grenades into tunnels, and I shot into the forest, and… I was told they're monsters. That they're evil. And I was scared of them, Maria. Of the Kalayaan. I was so scared." He looked at his hands, and his tears fell. "But my leaders lied to me. You're not evil. My brother died here for nothing, and I killed people here for nothing. The blood of Bahay is on my hands. And I'm so sorry. And I'm still so scared."
Maria held his hand. "I can't offer you absolution. But nor do I offer condemnation. You don't have to confess to me."
"I do," he said. "I have to tell someone. And there's nobody else I can tell. I have to talk about it. Maria, I grew up on Earth, a planet steeped in war. For generations, we fought. We fought Nazis and communists. We fought aliens. We fought robots. We fought war after war after war. And all those were wars of justice. Of good versus evil. I'm an Earthling. I was born for war, bred for war, trained for war. And I wanted to be like my heroes. Like Marco Emery, like Addy Linden, like Einav Ben-Ari, like the war heroes from the stories. Alien-killers. So I came here to be like them. And I found… people. Fellow humans. I found innocence. I found you." He caressed her cheek. "And I realized that I'm not a hero. In this war, I am the alien. I am the monster."
She put a hand on his cheek. "My village was bombed, Jon. They all died. My parents. My friends. All gone. I thought Earthlings were monsters too. But you're not a monster."
"I am—"
"You're not! Maybe your generals are. Maybe your president is. But you, Jon Taylor, are not a monster. You're a good man. Kind and funny and gentle. I can tell. I can feel it."
He embraced her. "Maria, I was taught to hate you. They broke me, Maria. They broke me so bad. And they taught me to come here, to kill your men, to fuck your women, to conquer and…" He could not speak for a moment, overcome, then brushed her hair and looked into her eyes. "You're so beautiful, Maria, and you're so sweet, and everything inside me is breaking right now, and I don't know how to ever put the pieces together."
They lay on the bed, holding each other for a long time. Her body was warm against his, her hair soft. She laid her hand on his chest.
"Jon?" she whispered.
"Maria?"
"I want you to make love to me," she said.
Jon shook his head. "Maria, you don't have to. I hired you for the night to protect you from Clay. Not to take advantage of you."
Her voice was soft. "Jon, I'm new here today, a virgin. But tomorrow night, another man will hire me. And the night after that. Maybe every night for years. That's who I am now. I don't want my first time to be with a cruel man. With somebody like those soldiers below. I don't want to lose my virginity tomorrow night to somebody like Clay. I choose you, Jon. I want you."
He caressed her cheek. "I'd still feel like you're forced. Like you have no choice."
"Bargirls don't kiss their clients. Charlie taught me that." Maria leaned forward and kissed Jon's lips. "You're not my client. You're a man I like. A man I choose. A kind man." She undressed again and lay naked beside him, the neon lights from outside dancing over her skin. "Be with me tonight."
He kissed her.
They kissed for a long time.
She closed her eyes, trembled for a moment, maybe still a little afraid. But when his hands explored her body, she kissed him again, and she whispered his name over and over as they made love.
Afterward, Jon lay on his back. He lay in silence. For a moment—in bliss.
The world burns, but here, for a moment, I feel true joy.
Maria curled up against him, her leg tossed over his leg, and laid her cheek upon his chest. She slept like that, nuzzling him, her breath soft on his skin. But he could not sleep for a long while. He stayed awake, stroking her hair, savoring her warmth. Her words echoed.
You're not a monster. You're a good man.
He held her in his arms.
I'm a good man who did horrible things. And I don't know if I can ever go home.
Chapter Forty-Three
The Earthling
He had four days of leave left, and Jon spent them with Maria.
Her value, the Magic Man said, dropped dramatically now that she was no longer a virgin. But hiring her for four days still cost a small fortune. Jon's friends helped. George sold his watch in a pawnshop. It fetched a good price.
"Don't worry about it, Jon," the giant said when Jon objected. "My dad gave me that watch, and he's a jerk."
Etty helped too, organizing a fundraiser in Cronus Company, to which the Lions platoon belonged. Many soldiers understood. Som
e had Bahayan girlfriends of their own. They gave a dollar here, a dollar there. And soon Etty returned with a bundle of cash.
It all went to the Magic Man.
And for four days, Maria was free.
On the first day, Jon hired a rickshaw, and they wandered through the city. They found a greasy joint that served fresh local food. There was sinigang stew, rich with chicken and tamarind; roast lechon, tender pork with crunchy skin; lumpia spring rolls they could not get enough of, and finally sticky rice cake for dessert. Maria was tiny, but she ate as much as Jon, and he ate a lot. Their bellies full, they found a vintage movie theater, at least a century old. They were showing classic movies from Earth. Maria and Jon sat holding hands, watching silly monster movies of giant reptiles destroying cities and battling robots. They laughed a lot.
On the second day, Jon hired two mopeds, and they learned how to drive them. As they drove through the shantytown, they were both silent and sad. Outside the city, they traveled down a dirt road to a beach, and they spent all day walking along the sand. Every few moments, they heard booms from across the water. The war was still raging there. But here, on this side of the sea, they found peace and joy, and they collected seashells, chased each other, laughed, and kissed in the sunset.
On the third day it was Sunday, and Maria asked to go to church. Jon was not religious. But he went with her, and they prayed. After services ended, Jon asked around, and amazingly, he found a cafe with a piano. Here—on Bahay! In this city of poverty and war—an actual grand piano! The cafe owner let Jon play all day, hoping it would attract customers. Jon played for Maria. He played her all the songs from Symphonica, and he even taught her to sing "Falling Like the Rain." They were all sad songs, part of the concept album he was writing. Songs from the soul of a dead soldier. But then he played her the Beatles and Elton John, and everyone in the cafe, and even along the street, gathered around him and sang along. Maria sat beside Jon, singing too, and her eyes sparkled, and her smile was the dawn.
On the fourth day, they got married.
The Earthling (Soldiers of Earthrise Book 1) Page 31
