by Jay Allan
Back home things were different. My mother, Beth…all the women I knew…they weren’t treated as second-class citizens in any way I’d ever noticed. But New Hampshire had been part of the old U.S., and from what I knew of pre-Consolidation American culture, the genders had been more or less equal in terms of rights and societal obligations. UN Central didn’t interfere too much with local customs. They didn’t make a big deal out of it…nothing that could turn into a rallying cry. They didn’t talk about it at all; they just went ahead and did what they wanted. Now that I thought about it, I’d never noticed a woman in any significant government position. The Inquisitor who’d come to our farm demanding the taxes…the recruiting agent who offered a waiver of the debt in exchange for my enlistment. Our local UN Admin…and every other one in the surrounding areas. All men.
I remembered my father’s rants, his constant complaints about UN Central and how much we had all lost since he was younger. Now I wondered about those women he’d served with, about what they felt they had lost. They had served their country, bled for it – some had died for it – and their reward was to see their daughters and grand-daughters barred from the same freedoms and opportunities they had enjoyed. I saw my father’s anger first hand, but now I wondered about those women. I couldn’t imagine how they lived with the bitterness. It was a different hell than mine, but perhaps one as painful in its own way.
Taylor was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning forward, holding his head in his hands. He hadn’t said a word in over an hour. He used to look forward to his allotments at the SSS facility, especially after he met Hope. She was pretty enough, especially by Erastus standards…but it was more than that. She had a tenderness, an empathy…a gentleness that was utterly at odds with every other aspect of his life. He was drawn to her; she made him feel whole again, at least for a little while. He felt a longing to help her too, to give to her the same comfort she provided him. Indeed, much of the solace he got from her came from knowing that he was there for her as much as she was for him. It made him feel normal, just for a few minutes. It might not be a real relationship they shared, but it was close enough that they could both pretend.
He enjoyed the sex, of course, but he also looked forward to just seeing her, sitting and talking. Jake was fortunate enough to have a close knit group of friends he could talk to when he needed an ear, but there was something different about spending time with a woman.
Troopers weren’t supposed to see the same women all the time…UNFE Command didn’t want relationships developing, just scheduled recreation. But as Taylor’s rank rose, so did his influence…and he was able to insure that he only saw Hope.
Now he sat with his back toward her. It had been five years since his mods had been installed, but he was still self-conscious about it. He’d avoided using his SSS allotments for months after the surgeries were complete. He made one excuse after another but, finally, he was ordered outright to go. SSS services weren’t optional in UNFE. They were a crucial part of the morale and mental health program designed to keep the army in the field at top fighting efficiency.
When he finally saw her for the first time after the surgery, she acted like everything was normal, even though it was the first time in almost a year that she’d seen him. She tried not to stare, but it was hard to ignore the metallic fittings protruding from his shoulders and his hips. He was still getting used to his increased strength, and when she finally coaxed him into bed, she came out of the encounter bruised from head to toe, a long, bloody scratch on her leg from the rough metal of one of his exo interfaces.
When he saw what he had done to her, he was horrified. It was months before he touched her again. He kept every appointment as ordered. But he wouldn’t go near her, wouldn’t risk hurting her again. It was at least another year before their encounters reached something like normalcy.
“Jake, are you OK? You’ve been so quiet.” Her voice was soft, gentle. Life had dealt her a fate as bitter as his, but she never seemed angry or resentful because of it.
Jake had kept himself from sliding down that slope for a long time too, but now his grip was failing. The anger, the bitterness…they were starting to win, starting to take control. Maybe if they hadn’t made him into a cyborg, he thought…perhaps then he could have maintained a few shreds of the faith that kept men – and women – going on Erastus. But they weren’t happy just taking his home and family and the only life he’d known…now they had come back for his humanity. Now, Jake believed, he truly was good only for war.
He was silent for a few more seconds before he turned to face her. “Oh…sorry.” He tried to hold back a sigh. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking.” He forced a smile for her, though he couldn’t imagine it was very convincing.
“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” She reached out and gently ran her hand down his back. He flinched at her first touch, but then he settled down. “You’re so tense. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
He did want to talk…at least he didn’t want to shut her out. But he didn’t know what to say…how to put it into words. Even if he managed to explain…he didn’t want to burden her, or bring her down with him. He’d been troubled lately, more than usual. And it was getting worse.
She slid across the bed, putting her arms around him from behind, pulling him closer. She rested her face on his shoulder, expertly avoiding the metal fittings protruding from his skin.
He closed his eyes, just for a few seconds. The feeling of her soft skin against his relaxed him, but only for an instant. He was too distracted, too consumed by thought for anything more.
“Jake, what is it?” She kissed him softly on the neck.
He felt an urge to pull away from her, but he resisted. That would only be hurtful to her…and that was the last thing he wanted. He didn’t intend to talk about it, to unload on her…but then it just started to come out.
“I saw a kid die.” He paused. “It was during the battle we just fought.” He laughed derisively. “I don’t suppose that should be a big deal. I’ve lost count of how many rookies I’ve seen butchered in ten years on this shithole planet.”
He turned toward her, keeping his head at an angle, trying to hide his mechanical eyes from her misty green ones. She took his face in her hand and turned, forcing him to look at her. It was his eyes, she had long ago realized…that was what he was most self-conscious about.
“Was there something special about this one?” She didn’t like the sound of that when she heard herself say it, and she immediately restated it. “I mean anything beyond the ordinary about the incident?” Her voice was warm, sympathetic.
Taylor was silent for a few seconds. He subconsciously tried to turn his eyes away again, but her hand gripped his face, stroking his cheek gently and turning him back to face her.
“No, not really.”
There was exhaustion in his voice, and disillusionment. He’d been like this before, but this was the worst she’d ever seen him. She laid her face against his shoulder and listened quietly.
“But it feels different. He was just like a thousand kids I’ve watched die. They all hurt.” He paused again. “But this isn’t the same. I think maybe every man has his limit. Watching every one of these boys die takes away a part of your soul. Maybe mine is just empty.”
She knew he didn’t really want to discuss things…he just wanted to let it out. There was nothing she could say that was going to make him feel better anyway, so she just listened, running her hand gently across his bare back. He always liked that…it relaxed him.
“Every man has his limit,” he repeated. “I should have died a long time ago, Hope.” His voice sounded distracted, far away…as if he was lost in old memories. “It would have been a mercy.”
“Don’t say that, Jake.” Her voice was soft…and a little sad. She didn’t like seeing him suffer so…watching him punish himself. “You know better than anyone how many boys you’ve saved. If you’d had died yourself, non
e of them would have survived either.”
“Maybe.” He sounded unconvinced. “But most of them died anyway…just a month later, or a year later.” Another pause. “And maybe they were the lucky ones. I’ve only prolonged the suffering for the men I saved.”
He looked down, staring at the stark whiteness of the bedcovering. “I’m going to quit, Hope.” His voice was deadpan, utterly serious. “I’m going to tell them to take this stupid war and shove it up their asses.”
She felt the tension in the pit of her stomach. If Taylor refused his duty they would take him away. If he continued to resist, they would shoot him. She was afraid of what might happen…and terrified of losing him. She had no more illusions about their relationship than he did, but she knew she needed him. She had lost a life and a family just as he had. Now she was consigned to spend the rest of her life as a sex worker on the most miserable hell man had ever found. Her visits with Jake were the only thing she cared about. They sustained her. Thinking of the next time she’d see him carried her through her days. It made her want to live. She didn’t think of it as love…she didn’t even know if such a thing was possible someplace like Erastus. But he was a kindred spirit of sorts and, for two lost souls, that was enough.
“Jake, you can’t.” There was a touch of desperation in her voice, a need to convince him, to pull him back from the brink. “I understand how you feel, but they’ll shoot you.”
He almost smiled. “Would that be so bad? Quick, almost painless.”
“Yes, it would be bad.” She was speaking louder, almost yelling. “You’re not thinking clearly right now. And what about me? What about your friends? Your men? Think about all of us before you do something stupid and reckless.” She was forcing back a sob as she spoke. “We need you.”
He was quiet for a few seconds, looking up at her, reaching his hand out and taking hers. “You’re right.” His tone was soft, almost apologetic. “I’m just frustrated.”
She didn’t say anything, but she wasn’t convinced. It was a lot more than frustration; that was obvious. She knew Jake needed her help, but she didn’t know what to do, how to reach him. She smiled at him, but inside she was scared to death.
She watched him get dressed, and she kissed him goodbye before he left. She heard the click of the door closing behind him. Then the tears came.
Chapter 15
From the Journal of Jake Taylor:
I have too much time to think. When you are young, your mind wants to believe in things. Belief is a powerful force. It can sustain a person through grueling trials and agonizing torment. It can also cloud judgment, lead even an intelligent person to accept and passionately defend the worst sort of nonsense. Some of the most amazing things in history were driven by belief…and some of the most horrific calamities as well. I’d like to say I think belief is a good force more often than a bad one. I’d like to say that, but I can’t.
I believed when I was younger. I looked past the events that seemed needlessly hurtful, tried to understand why things were done to me, to my loved ones. I accepted the rules and regulations…and the heavy taxes and levies that barely left us what we needed to get by…and sometimes not enough. I didn’t question anything I was told, not seriously at least. There were people with less, people UN Central was struggling to help. The war against the Tegeri was raging too, and that struggle was funded by Earth’s citizens. I believed, as I was told, that it was unpatriotic to question any of it.
Even when I was taken from my family and sent to Erastus I still believed. I was bitter and heartbroken certainly, but I told myself I was fighting to defend hearth and home…my family and friends and billions more like them. I was doing the ultimate duty as a citizen.
The restrictions, the regulations, the monitor installed in our home…I believed it was all necessary. UN Central had eliminated war on Earth; it had thwarted terrorism. All the terrible things mankind endured throughout history. Why would anyone question their motives?
I wonder now how I was so stupid, so blind. For ten years I’ve seen the arrogance of the UN personnel sent here on limited tours. I’ve seen the contempt they feel for those of us consigned here…the ones without influence or patronage. They see us as pieces of equipment they use and discard…nothing more. Any organization that produces such people is rotten…unworthy of belief, of faith.
They enlist us for life, denying us return trips to Earth, even if we survive five or ten years in this hell. They blame the cost, say the energy to transport us back would be too expensive. I believed that once, but now I feel like a fool for it. The few miserable wrecks of men who survive a five year enlistment…how much could it cost to send them home? When I think about it, I am amazed at how little it takes to get people to believe, to throw away their judgment, their intelligence, and blindly follow their masters’ orders.
It has nothing to do with energy. They’ve transported hundreds of times my body weight in food and ammunition just to sustain me over the last ten years. Yet I am consigned to die on this miserable rock because it is prohibitively expensive to send me home? How could I have been such a fool to believe nonsense like that? How could all of us have been?
The truth is, they don’t want us back on Earth. Trained killers who’ve lived for years outside the normal Earth routine of constant surveillance. That’s why they don’t let us go home. I figured out part of that a while back, but now I realize the whole truth. They are afraid of my brethren and me, even as they need us to fight their wars. It is from stuff such as us that revolutions are made.
I know I shouldn’t be writing these things. Blackie would tell me to stop, that it wasn’t safe. I know that’s true, but I don’t care. I just don’t care. Let them come…let them take me away. Let them come and destroy the perfect little soldier they spent so much to build. But they better bring a lot of force with them when they come. Because I am the killing machine they created, and I won’t go down without a fight.
“I said I’m done.” Taylor sat calmly in the soft leather chair. He was a little surprised to be in a fancy office and not in shackles in some prison cell, but he didn’t let it show. “I’ve given you enough…more than any of you deserve.” Taylor had told his story twice already, first to his immediate superior and then to General Hammon, commander of UNFE. Now he was in the office of the man who’d recruited him into the Supersoldier program.
Gregor Kazan was angry, but he was hiding that as well as Taylor was concealing his surprise. He felt it was beneath him to argue and negotiate with a soldier…even a war hero carrying the rank of major. But he didn’t need this shit right now. He would be confirmed as Undersecretary in another two months, and the success of the Supersoldier project was the primary reason. Bringing up the first participant of the program on desertion charges would be disastrous. It would delay the vote, at least…and very possibly cost him the promotion. And he wasn’t about to let that happen. Whatever he had to do.
“Major Taylor, I understand that your experiences in battle have been – how shall I put it? – troubling.” He looked over at Taylor, his manufactured expression one of sympathy, of understanding.
Jake knew it was fake, every bit of it…but he couldn’t help but admire the skill it must have taken Kazan to look so sincere when he was so full of shit. If nothing else, a career in government teaches you to lie like a pro, he thought. “I am not troubled, Mr. Kazan.” He stared at the UN functionary with an emotionless expression on his face. “I am simply done.”
Kazan felt the rage surging through his body, but he clamped down on it. He’d only been on Erastus to make a display of how closely he was watching the program…a little theater preceding the confirmation vote. Now, he realized how fortuitous it was for him to be here when Taylor decided to have his meltdown.
“Major, you know better than anyone that the army does not function in that way. Your service, as much as it is appreciated, is not optional. You voluntarily enlisted and, in doing so, you agreed to abide by the regulations
and responsibilities of the service.”
“Voluntarily?” Taylor spat the word. “You think my enlistment was voluntary?” He glared across the desk.
“Indeed I do, Major Taylor.” Kazan returned the stare. “My records indicate that the Revenue Department forgave a massive underpayment of taxes in return for your agreeing to serve.” His eyes narrowed, boring into Jake’s. “I believe that was very fair. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been necessary if your family had met its obligations.”
“We almost starved that year, Mr. Kazan.” Taylor was determined to suppress his anger, but he was starting to lose his hold on it. “How do you imagine we could have paid the taxes?”
Kazan took a breath and shifted in his seat. “Do you suppose the government’s obligations disappear because of your family’s financial mismanagement? Does the war cease? Do the soldiers on the front no longer require food and weapons?” His voice was becoming sharper…not angry, at least not yet…but the tension was showing. “I do not propose to rehash the facts surrounding your enlistment, Major, nor debate UN policies. You agreed to the terms of service, and your government requires you to comply.” He paused, eyes still fixed on Taylor. “Now return to your unit, Major. Because of your war record, I will see to it that this unfortunate incident is forgotten.”
“No.” Taylor just sat where he was, not uttering another word.
“Major Taylor, I don’t think you understand me. If you reject my offer, you will be arrested, court-martialed for desertion and, in all likelihood, executed.” Kazan’s anger was showing now, and his shock as well. “Do you understand?”
My God, Taylor thought…the miserable little prick actually thinks he’s being generous. “I understand, Mr. Kazan.” Taylor paused, just for emphasis. “I simply don’t care.”
