Forge of War (Jack of Harts)

by Pryde, Medron

  “Ah.” Jack placed brought his hands up behind his head and interlaced his fingers, affecting a pose of relaxation. “Did I pass?”

  “I’m still talking to you.”

  “I guess that means I’m still fishing then?” Jack asked. It was hard to gauge if he was going too far without a face to look at, to measure his words against.

  “Indeed,” Three answered, the amused tone back.

  “I guess that makes it my move them.” Jack’s forehead creased in thought. “Can I ask you two questions?”

  “Proceed,” Three said, the tone serious.

  Jack paused, trying to form the questions just right. “The first one is, ‘Why did the others decide not to choose me?’ And the second is, ‘Why are you reconsidering?’”

  “Those are very good questions. Let me answer the second one first.”

  “Actually,” Jack interjected. “I’m really curious about the first one. Could you tell me it first?”

  The speaker went silent for several seconds. Jack did not swallow.

  “You are trying to make me end with what is most positive about you, hoping that it will make a positive outcome more likely.”

  Jack shrugged, giving the speaker a very large smile. “I’ll take any advantage I can get.”

  “You declined with Five.”

  “There was no advantage to working with Five.”

  “True.” The speaker went silent again. “Very well. The others decided against you because your psychological profile is wrong for us. You seem pathologically incapable of having a long-term relationship with anybody. Ever. And the only reason you are here now is because you are obsessed with killing Shang and getting your revenge on them for killing your father, your mother, and most of the people you knew in International Falls. They are unwilling to choose a partner like that.”

  “Oh,” Jack said, dropping his hands down into his lap. He blinked, considering the verdict, replaying the conversation with Bruce. He was going to find out how he was going to kill Shang. Jack sighed. She was right. He pulled in a deep breath. “And you? Are you willing?” he finally asked.

  “No.” The old voice held no equivocation at all.

  Jack swallowed. It was time to get Three away from this line of thought before she chose to leave.

  “So what makes you think I’m worth considering then?” he asked.

  The cyber waited a few seconds before answering, probably measuring him for something. “You played with the dogs,” she finally answered.

  Jack blinked in confusion. “Wha?”

  “Please. Do you really think a military training facility designed for someone like you would give you so much free time with no tests in the middle of War?”

  Jack grunted. “Well, I was wondering about that.” He considered his words for a moment. “So you were watching us to see what we would do when we…wanted to?”

  “Yes. And every candidate who played with the dogs except you has already been chosen.”

  Jack frowned in thought. “Why did you pick them?”

  A chuckle came from the speaker. “Jack, I’m not going to reel myself in on your line. It’s time for you to answer my questions.”

  Jack returned the chuckle, leaned back into the chair and interlaced his hands behind his head again, relaxing his posture and kicking his feet out. “Go fish.”

  “Why did you play with the dogs?”

  Jack swallowed. He barely stopped himself from uttering the amazingly idiotic phrase of “Uh…wha?” by the skin of his teeth. It really wouldn’t have helped. He slid back into the seat and leaned forward, bringing one hand forward to rub his chin as he thought. Finally he shrugged. “Well, Annabelle came over with the ball and wanted to play. And Bruce…well he wanted to fight so we did. They started it really.”

  The cyber sighed. “I know they did. They always do. It’s their job. But why did you play with them, not just toss the ball and forget about it? Why did you find out that Tony liked sugar cubes?”

  Jack looked at the speaker for almost fifteen seconds, trying to come up with a good answer. “Well, I grew up with dogs,” he finally began with a wave of his hand. “Most of them like sugar so I figured it was worth a try. And I guess I just like dogs. They’re fun to be around, whether they are normal dogs or uplifted dogs.”

  The cyber remained quiet again for a long time and Jack began to wonder if he’d blown it. “So let me get this straight,” she finally said. “You spent four hours at a time outside in an environment you clearly detest, eating or playing with the dogs because you like dogs?”

  “Well, yeah,” Jack answered.

  “You gave up study time for the classes because you like dogs?”

  Jack raised an eyebrow at the speaker. “Like the classes were really difficult enough to require studying?” he retorted. The speaker did an amazing imitation of grinding teeth and Jack winced. He’d probably gone too far with that one.

  “You’re smart enough to pass the tests without studying and yet you are so blinded in other ways. We truly do not know what to make of you.”

  “I guess that makes me special then?” Jack asked.

  “And so quick witted…sometimes,” the wry tone uttered. “Fine. Once more. What makes you the kind of person who can never commit to a relationship, who wants nothing more than to kill every Shang you see, and yet at the same time be the kind of person who will not turn away a dog who wants your attention?”

  “You know what they say,” Jack continued with his sly smile. “When a five year old hands a toy phone to even the biggest and baddest gangster, he picks it up and answers it.”

  A sigh came out of the speaker. “I ask a serious question and you joke. Goodbye---”

  “Wait,” Jack interrupted, realizing he had made a tactical error there. He let out a long breath as the light under speaker five remained on, and shook his head. “Look, it’s stupid. Just…stories. You know how things are, right? Your parents teach you something and it just sticks. It’s nothing big or important or anything, it’s just how things are.”

  “Our families are not exactly like yours,” the cyber answered, an interested tone back in her voice. “But we have similar relationships. I understand how the wishes of a parent can still influence a child even after you have parted ways.”

  Jack gave the speaker a hard glance. He and his parents had not “parted ways.” They had been murdered. He took in a deep breath and released it, relaxing.

  “Now, what are these stupid stories that you talk of and how do they influence you?”

  “They are not stupid stories,” Jack growled.

  “But you said the reasons were stupid…and stories,” the cyber said, digging for more information.

  Jack shook his head. “Don’t confuse me with the facts.”

  The cyber did not answer for several seconds. “Was that another joke?” she finally asked, her tone noticeably cooler again.

  “A bad one,” Jack admitted. “But…not entirely a joke either. I don’t know. Maybe they are stupid stories. But my parents told them to me….”

  “Ah. I understand,” the cyber said, a smile in her tone of voice. “You are conflicted. I wish I could give you time to work it out, but I cannot. Our time is valuable and I must decide soon if we are to work together. I must insist that you tell me now. If you do not, I will leave and you will not see me again.”

  “Wait,” Jack nearly gasped out.

  Silence answered him for several seconds, but the light remained on. “I will wait,” the cyber finally said. “A very short time. It is better to say something imperfect now rather than the perfect thing after I have gone.”

  Jack sighed in reluctant agreement. He composed his thoughts, breathed in, breathed out, and began to speak, thinking this was all very stupid. Surely, the cyber didn’t want to hear a story. But she had asked. She had demanded. “Look, there’s a bunch of stories, but there’s one about this really rich old man that probably says it better than I can. I’m talking he
’s rich enough to buy planets if he wanted to.” Jack looked at the speaker for a moment before continuing. He didn’t want to lose his nerve part way through. “This guy hadn’t let the fortune get to his head though, and he was a nice old man to everybody he met. He even talked to God every night, and God talked back.

  “Well, one night the rich old man asked God to come dine with him the next day. He wanted to really meet God face to face and spend a long time talking with him over a table. God said he would come and the man was all kinds of happy. The next day, he ordered his servants to spare no expense, to buy the best food in the town and to make the largest, most amazing banquet ever made at his house. He’d had some real amazing banquets too, so this was saying something. God was coming though, and that was worth his best stuff.

  “Well, word started to get around that he was doing this, and some people thought he was crazy but didn’t say much. He was a good guy and treated everybody well, even if he was a bit odd. A beggar, hearing about the banquet, knocked on the old man’s door and asked for some food. Well, the man was getting ready for God, so he didn’t really want to let the beggar in, but he could see the man needed food. So he let the man in, and told him to eat whatever he needed and to take what he needed when he left. And he talked to the beggar, as a host should, even as he marked the time and tried to hurry the man off as quickly as he could without being rude. Finally the beggar left, and the old rich man felt he was ready.

  “A knock came, and it was someone else needing food. It wasn’t God. The old rich man smiled and let them in, and shared his food, and talked with them, and let them out. And more people came, and he let them in, and let them out, and all the while he wondered when God was coming. The night came, and he still hadn’t seen God, and he went to pray and asked why God hadn’t come.

  “And God said he’d come, that he’d been there all day. He’d been the first beggar, and all the other people the old man had welcomed into his home, had talked to and fed, and spent his time with. That everything the old man had done to those people he had done to God.”

  Jack sighed and leaned back in his chair, chewing his lip. He looked at the speaker. “He’d been busy, preparing to meet someone very important, but when someone else came along and needed his time, he gave it. He…” He gave up with a shrug and fell into silence.

  “You were busy preparing to meet me, and you gave the dogs your time,” the cyber said, each word deliberate.

  “Yes,” Jack answered with a thoughtful frown, still trying to find the best words to explain his feelings. “Yes, if we all gave each other time, maybe the worlds would be better places,” saying the one thing that almost seemed more stupid than the rest of the story put together. He just couldn’t help himself.

  “Indeed,” the cyber said very, very carefully. “Your turn. One question.”

  Jack licked his lips, bringing himself back under control. He would not sound desperate. He breathed in, he breathed out, he calmed himself, and he asked the first thing that came to his mind. “Would you join me for dinner?”

  The cyber laughed, long and heartily, at the request. “Be careful,” she said after her laughter trailed away. “You don’t want God to think you are blaspheming I think.”

  “I think He’d understand,” Jack answered with a shrewd smile.

  “Perhaps He would,” the cyber intoned thoughtfully. “You impress me.”

  Jack’s smile grew, along with his confidence. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  The cyber chuckled again. “It means I have one more question for you. It will either be easy or impossible to answer. Ready?”

  Jack swallowed his nerves down. “Go fish,” he said, forcing the smile to his face.

  The cyber chuckled. “Jack. If there were no Shang, no war, what is the one thing you would want to do above all others?”

  Jack felt his breath go out. That was real hard to imagine. Without the Shang, his parents would still be alive. “We always used to fish,” he finally said, his jaw set hard to keep his emotions in check. “I’d want to do that again. Ride around in a boat. Stop and let the wind and waves take me…wherever they want to take me. Party with friends. Play music.” He blinked and took in a deep breath. “I never realized how…” he let himself trail off rather than finish that sentence. It wouldn’t do to remind her how much he hated the Shang for taking that away from him. He shook his head and let out a long breath, calming himself again.

  “It was paradise you know. Now…looking back on it.” He shrugged, blinking what were definitely not tears away. “I’d want that back.” He blinked again and let out another long breath. “You know I lived most of my life up there, on the water? The wonderful thing about the Boundary Waters is just how damn big it is. You can be on it every day, and see something new, go someplace you’ve never been. See some species of bird or fish you’ve never seen before. It’s…amazing up there. It’s paradise. What more could a man want?” Jack stared at her speaker and gave her a sad smile. “But…that’s gone now…and it’s not coming back, is it?”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” the voice said with a smile. “The universe is a grand and amazing place and it is far more resilient than we give it credit for. So what do you want more, Jack? Do you want to kill the Shang for taking that world away from you, or do you want to build a new world like it?”

  Jack looked away, considering the question very carefully. He could make the easy answer that of course he wanted to build a better world, but it wouldn’t mean anything in the end if he was just mouthing the words. He sighed and looked at the speaker again. “I want to kill Shang real bad,” he said in a sad tone. “You’re right about that. But that’s a long grueling fight. It’ll be Hell out there and I know that. And I’ll do it. And I know I might not come back. That’s the oath I took when I signed up. I’ll kill ’em, and I’ll keep killin’ ’em until there’s no more to kill.” He pulled in a deep breath. “But for all that I want ’em dead, I don’t want to spend my whole life killin’ ’em either.” He smiled at the speaker. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

  “For what?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious.

  Jack let out a long, cleansing breath. “For reminding me about the things worth fighting for.”

  “You are welcome, Jack,” the speaker said in a joyful voice. “And you will not be fighting alone,” she added as a hologram appeared in the middle of the room. It started as a genderless human figure and began to take on a female form in seconds. As the figure began to come into focus, a yellow sundress appeared around her. Her feet came into focus and white sandals appeared on them. Long blonde hair puffed into being, framing a very cute face with blue eyes. She wasn’t beautiful, not the kind that would get his attention in that way. But she reminded him of something…of someone. And then it clicked.

  “Damn,” he whispered. She looked like she could be one of his cousins. Not any one cousin, but an amalgam of all of them and yet not really any of them. Someone had done her homework. He smiled.

  She smiled back. “Hello, Jack,” she said with a voice that made him feel almost homesick. It wasn’t any of the voices he remembered from the reunions, just like the rest of her wasn’t, but it was all so close. She was family. His family. She made a show of looking in a mirror that appeared in the wall and nodded. “Yes, I think I like this.” She put a hand to her throat and laughed. “I like that too.” Finally she turned to Jack again. “And now for the name. I think we will be working with each other for a long time, so I have to make certain it is one I like. Don’t you agree?”

  Jack nodded, as comfortable in her presence as he’d been with anybody in his life.

  “Yes. I think that will work,” she said, her head cocked to the side in thought. She really did have all of the mannerisms of humanity down perfectly. Then her hologram seemed to snap into solidity. She looked real, like flesh and blood; like he could touch her skin and it would be warm, like she could touch him and he would feel it. She smile
d at him again.

  “Jack, you can call me Betty.”

  Hello, my name is Jack. All my life I wanted to loaf around home on my boat wearing shorts and sandals with a guitar strapped over my shoulder impressing all the girls with my mad musical skills. But I also thought flying would be fun. Hollywood kept showing us “real men” in Hellcats vanquishing the bad guys, so when I realized I might just be a pilot, I wanted to fly Hellcats. Then some politician with a hankering for pork got a reinstated reserve squadron assigned with some new Avengers….

  The Mighty Avengers

  Jack studied the fighter in front of him and the other pilots. It was too big to be a real fighter, twice as long as the Hellcat the United States Marine Corps had been adopting over the last fifteen years. Unlike the aerodynamic Hellcat, the Avenger was angular, harsh lines showing that the design process was still ongoing. The long nose, as long as the Hellcat on its own, jutted out of the massive fuselage that housed the cockpit. Thick wings spread out on either side, carrying what looked like massive gravitic cannons, but Jack wasn’t certain he liked that. In fact, he was pretty certain he didn’t. He couldn’t see the missile racks that made the Hellcat such a powerful space superiority fighter. With gravitic cannons, the Avenger would be more of an attack craft, designed for anti-shipping duties. Though what looked like an engine tacked on above and below showed that it was designed to maneuver.

  Then there was the heavy weapons turret, housing what looked like four heavy laser arrays, hanging below the nose. That was twice the laser power of a Hellcat’s smaller laser arrays, but the Hellcat had three weapons mounts, including a turret on each wing. He didn’t like the idea of having all the weapons on a single turret. It would be too easy for a lucky shot to blow them all off, and then anyone piloting this thing would be in serious trouble. Jack pursed his lips and turned to the other pilots, wondering if they were as worried about this fighter as he was. One look was all it took. They were.

  A colonel stepped forward, and every pilot and cyber came to attention, saluting him automatically. The colonel saluted back and frowned.