Forge of War (Jack of Harts)

by Pryde, Medron

  “I’m doing my best,” the Devilcat said in a frustrated tone. The Hellcat made another pass, missiles and lasers stabbing at him again.

  Jack banked slightly, using the Devlicat’s momentum against him, and slipped by without a struggle. He frowned in thought but continued talking. “Come on, I saw that attack vector a lightyear away. Do something random.”

  “I’m trying!” the pilot growled and dove in, more aggressively than Jack expected. The attack would have been suicidal in real combat, as it left the fighter too easy to shoot down, but in a simulation it had the chance of getting points. Missiles streaked in from the Hellcat’s wings, Jack dropped the fighter towards the deck, but the missiles had the arc on him and several managed to hit near enough to the deflection grid that it flickered. The screens showed the Devilcat with several dozen points from that attack.

  Jack frowned in annoyance. “You’d be dead if you tried that in real life.”

  The Devilcat laughed. “I wouldn’t have tried that in real life,” he finished and fired again.

  This time, Jack saw it coming and arced around the missile’s flight path.

  “You’re relying on your cyber to fight for you too much. You need to fight like a partner.”

  “I’m trying. But I can’t think that fast!” the pilot blurted out and came around for another pass.

  Jack and Betty avoided the attack again and Jack sighed. “You’re right, you can’t. None of us can.” He dodged another salvo of boiling missiles. “It takes time to verbalize our thoughts, to put them to words, to consider what we are going to do next.” He tried to drop under a missile barrage, but nearly half of them hit, giving the Devilcat over a hundred points on the sim ranking. “See what I mean? There I was talking and I’d be dead if that was real combat.” He nodded and Betty fired, her missiles hitting the Hellcat’s deflection grid head with a series of direct hits that generated over a hundred sim points. He felt the urge to move and dropped them down to hug the deck just before a dozen flaming missiles flew over them by several meters.

  “How did you do that!” the Devilcat shouted in astonishment. “You moved before I fired!”

  Jack grunted. “We’re always moving. I just did something different that your cyber couldn’t track. You need to do the same. Don’t plan anything. Just…let your hands move whenever you feel like moving them.”

  “That makes a real good fortune cookie but how does that help me now?” Another missile salvo missed him and Betty.

  Jack sucked in a deep breath, let it out, and nodded as he realized that this guy just wouldn’t have a chance of living in a real fight. This was all he had. “OK,” he said to Betty. “Let’s take the gloves off and show him how it’s really done.” He flexed his fingers on the controls, readying himself for a real fight. However long that would last.

  Betty shook her head. “Jack, we don’t need to do this.”

  Jack cocked his head at her. “Yes, we do. He’s no pilot.”

  Betty aimed a displeased frown at him. “Everybody watching already knows that, Jack.”

  Jack shrugged. “But he doesn’t. He has to realize…crap!” he interjected as several missiles impacted their Hellcat. The Devlicat’s points went up by another hundred or so points.

  Betty crossed her arms and glared at him. “OK. Fine. But we don’t have to totally humiliate him.”

  Jack shook his head in disagreement. “That’s not my goal, Betty. But we have to show he’s not in his league here!”

  Betty shook her head. “No. We don’t. You do.”

  Jack shook his head and held on tight as more missiles impacted their wildly gyrating Hellcat. “I’m doing my job, Betty.” The Devilcat received another couple hundred points.

  She aimed a sad smile at him. “No, Jack. Your job is to screen. You’ve done that.” She shook her head. “Now you’re just mad. You can’t believe anybody let someone like him in a fighter. You want to show everyone what a real pilot is. You want to show them. That’s your pride talking, Jack. Your righteous indignation. You don’t have to let that control you though.”

  Jack looked away from her and rubbed his chin, not wanting to admit she was right. But she was. He swallowed and pulled in a deep breath. “I see your point.”

  Betty smiled and ran her hands down her yellow sundress, straightening it with the air of a proud mother. “Thank you.” She pulled the fighter around in time to avoid an entire missile salvo and her smile turned angry. “Oh, that was just insulting!” she shouted and shook a fist at the other fighter. “We countered that gambit five centuries ago!”

  Jack cleared his throat, smiled, and raised a finger. “I really don’t want to come back to base with less points than him. You don’t either, do you?”

  Betty glared at him for a moment, before shaking her head.

  He winced as two missiles shredded the deflection grid and chewed his lip. “Is one salvo enough to pass him?”

  Betty cocked her head to the side and gave him a feral smile. “With both of us working together? Absolutely.”

  Jack nodded and placed his hands back on the throttle and stick. “Let’s get behind him. I’ll tell you when to fire.”

  Betty nodded. “That works for me.”

  Jack pulled the Hellcat around in a swift motion that the Devilcat didn’t expect. They dropped on his tail in a moment and Jack smirked. He focused on the fighter, held the throttle and stick with light fingers, and waited for it to move. It moved all the time of course, but Betty followed it with only the reflexes that a cyber could match. It was the true randomness that Jack looked for, and he carefully guided them through the Hellcat’s contrail.

  He waited for just the right circumstances, following the Devilcat through turns and loops. The Devilcat dove into a mountain valley, scattering ice crystals across the sky as her wingflaps extended. Jack and Betty followed, bucking through the contrails, and high, mountain peaks towered over them. He flicked back and forth, holding the fighter in their sights, and finally felt confidence in his gut. “Now.”

  The Hellcat shuddered as the missile pods on the end of the wings erupted. The missiles ripple-fired out in a solid stream of flame from the launch rockets that accelerated them away from the fighter. The rockets flared out, the gravitic drives that made up the bulk of each missile came to life, and the missiles flew towards their target.

  The Devilcat’s lasers opened up in point defense mode, and missile after missile exploded. But each successive missile died closer to the fighter. The wave of missiles closed in on the fighter and onboard sensors detected the gravitic sheer of the deflection grid surrounding their target. Tiny artificial minds recognized the threat, switched their drives to overload, and the drives burned themselves out in a split second, ripping at the deflection grid with the power of miniature black holes. The Devilcat’s grid failed and the last of the missiles flew up and ripped the fighter apart.

  Jack looked up from the screen that showed the computers’ analysis of the attack and locked his gaze on the Devilcat fighter in front of him. The missiles, still alive as they hadn’t actually burned themselves out, shot away, making for home base on their own. Jack nodded and pulled their Hellcat away from the Devilcat fighter.

  “And that’s that. Try out’s over. Head back to base now,” he ordered.

  “How in Hell did you do that?”

  Jack smiled. “Well, that’s what happens when a pilot and cyber work together. Better than the sum of our parts and all that.”

  “But…we were winning,” the Devilcat said in confusion and slowed his fighter around to match Jack’s speed. “We were hitting you.”

  Jack sighed and glanced at Betty with a rueful look. “Well, that was because we weren’t working together. We had a little argument going on over here.”

  “About me?”

  Jack gave Betty a surprised look but she just crossed her arms with an “I told you so” expression. Jack cleared his throat. “Yes, actually.” He shook his head. “So how did you th
ink you were doing?”

  The Devilcat cleared his throat. “Well, at first you were really keeping me from getting hits. But once I started hitting you, I thought maybe I had a chance. That I’d figured out whatever it was you were trying to tell me about.”

  “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?”

  The Devilcat laughed. “Oh sure. You sound like Obi Wan saying ‘Trust your feelings, Luke.’”

  Jack laughed as well. “Yeah, some of the people testing me for pilot aptitude were pretty cuckoo when it came to stuff like that.” He frowned. “Didn’t you meet any of them when you joined?”

  The Devilcat snorted. “There aren’t many Americans on New Earth. We volunteered, so we serve.”

  Jack frowned in thought. “How do you fare against the other fighter squadrons on New Earth? I assume you fly against them in sims?”

  The Devilcat cleared his throat. “Well, we usually cooperate, actually. Our better pilots take on their pilots and the rest of us…well…we normally have plans for what we are going to do.”

  Jack blinked and aimed a puzzled gaze at Betty. She waved her hand towards one of the screens and he read it. The Devilcats had a forty percent win rating against the other squadrons on New Earth, well above the Do Not Qualify rating. Which meant either the squadrons on New Earth really sucked, or the Devilcats were really tricky. For the moment, having seen the other squadrons in action against the Chinese and the Shang, he was going to assume the latter.

  “Impressive,” Jack said

  “Thank you.” The Devilcat sounded pleased. “I like plans that take advantage of my enemies’ weakness. Always much more reliable than flying in and hoping to get lucky.”

  Jack pursed his lips in thought, and smiled as his next question came to mind. “So what do you think happened in this test?”

  “I don’t know your weaknesses,” the Devilcat said with what seemed like a verbal shrug. “And you’re real lucky.”

  Jack looked at Betty and she shrugged. He shrugged back in agreement. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

  “So how do you do it?” the Devilcat asked, a truly inquisitive tone to his voice. “I mean, the way you moved at the end. We couldn’t shake you.”

  Jack turned a smile towards Betty. “We’re a team. We know what we’re going to do before we do it and just…do it. I’m sure your cyber could explain it if you’re interested.”

  “So you’re one of those ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’ guys?”

  Jack chuckled. “Pretty much.”

  “So what were you arguing about?”

  Jack shifted in his seat and sent a questioning look Betty’s way. She nodded. “Oh, how to tell you that you weren’t going to be a Cowboy,” Jack said, not sugarcoating things.

  “I see. Did she read you the riot act?”

  Jack chuckled and looked away from Betty. “Yes, actually.”

  “Cybers are good at rounding out our rougher edges, aren’t they?”

  Jack smiled. “Yes.”

  “Tell me, have you ever regretted listening to her?”

  Jack looked at Betty and chewed his lip as she awaited his answer with wide-eyed interest. He sighed. “No, I suppose I haven’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve missed not doing things because she’s talked me out of it…” He trailed off and studied her form for nearly a second. “But I can’t say I regret any of the times I listened to her.”

  “That’s what I thought. So what do you suggest I do?”

  Jack thought for a moment. “Do you love flying?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then maybe TRANSCOM. Flying transports may not be as glorious as fighters, but I can guarantee that you’ll be dodging fewer missiles.”

  “Yeah, I suppose a big, clumsy transport would dodge fewer missiles,” the Devilcat answered.

  Jack cleared his throat. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know,” the Devilcat answered with a chuckle. “But you did leave yourself wide open there.”

  “True.” Jack frowned and looked at Betty as an idea came to mind.

  She pursed her lips, cocked her head to the side, and nodded.

  “You know,” Jack began in a casual tone. “It occurs to me you know the people in your squadron, and who is best at flying. Could you give me a list of all the pilots you’ve never beaten in sims? And those you’ve only beaten rarely?”

  “Yes, I suppose I could,” the Devilcat said with a guarded tone.

  Jack smiled. The man was suspicious of the change in the subject. Good. “Could you also give me a list of those you think would make good Cowboys?”

  Silence answered him for several seconds before the Devilcat spoke again. “I believe I could, if you told me what qualifications you were looking for.”

  Jack’s smile grew in pleasure and he nodded at Betty. The guy really did have a quick mind, even if his piloting reflexes were out the airlock. “Well, first of all, we’re looking for somebody who wants to go home after this is done and settle down. People with something to live for. We don’t need any Big Damn Heroes out there.” He met Betty’s gaze and sighed. “We don’t want people who have a score to settle.”

  Betty’s smile softened at his admission.

  “I think I know what you’re looking for after all,” The Devilcat pilot said, his tone sounding pleased. “I’ll have a report to you by this afternoon.”

  “Thank you,” Jack answered automatically, his mind already considering what to do next. For one, he began to consider that if Devilcat Ten gave him good intel here, he just might be able to find a position for the man after all. “You are dismissed to return to base,” he added in a more formal tone.

  “Roger,” Devilcat Ten answered and banked back towards Leif Erikson Spacebase.

  Jack followed the Hellcat’s progress until it dwindled to a dot in the sky before shaking his head. “That was unexpected.”

  Betty just smiled.

  “OK. You told me so.”

  Her smile broadened and he shook his head as the sensors detected another Hellcat burning towards his position. He checked the screens to verify that it was Hellcat Eleven and nodded.

  “This is Cowboy Five to Hellcat Eleven,” he transmitted. “You may try to kill me now.”

  Hello, my name is Jack. I’ve met all kinds of fathers in my time. Some aren’t worthy of the name, whether because they don’t pay attention to their children, or pay too much bad attention to them. Some wave shotguns at anyone who looks at their daughters, others don’t care, and some are really scary. Some fathers never utter a single threatening word, and yet let you know they are completely willing to do whatever is necessary to anyone who hurts their little girl.

  Father Knows Best

  A dim red star shone alone in the night sky, bathing the streets with soft red light. Streetlights and storefronts drove the red away in their vicinity, everything else looked reddish. Men and women, some in suits coming from work or late New Years parties and others in plain clothes, filed down the sidewalks. Some on bikes or boards flew down the street, and larger vehicles floated by overhead, sometimes coming down to land in front of a store, constant beeps warning of their approach. Landing City never slept according to everything he’d heard, and this night proved those stories true.

  Jack walked down the sidewalk, his arm crooked out and Samantha’s slid into it. It felt good to just be walking with her. They walked by a store playing a song and Jack recognized it. His mind went back to the beach and bonfire and Taylor and Jennifer singing for a moment and he began to hum the tune with their recorded voices.

  “I love that song,” Samantha murmured, her head against his shoulder pulling him back to the present.

  Jack let his humming fade away and pulled in a long breath. “Me too.” He swallowed. “We used to listen to them all the time back home. Playing music on the beach and just having a good time.”

  Samantha leaned closer to him and he felt her breath on his neck. “So you’re a fan of T&J, huh?”


  Jack chuckled and spread his free arm out wide in a grand gesture. “My Dear, I am one of the charter members of the T&J fan club!”

  Samantha hugged his arms tighter. “Me too,” she whispered. He looked down at her in disbelief. “Really,” she said in response with a wry smile. “I have one of their pre-production vids. From before they got signed. I’ve been watching them ever since I got it. They’ve got talent.”

  Jack smiled, and for a moment he was back in the study, listening to them record their old vids. He nodded. “Yes, they do.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wish we could go see them. I had tickets for their concert but…” she shrugged. “I didn’t want to go alone so I gave them to a girlfriend.”

  Jack smiled and let out a long breath. “Well then, we’ll just have to get some new ones if you want to go,” he said with a chuckle.

  Samantha sighed. “They’ve been sold out since before you got here.”

  Jack chuckled again. “We’ll have to do something about that then. Betty, could you ask them for backstage tickets for me, plus one?”

  “Of course, Jack,” her voice answered for both to hear.

  Samantha gave him a confused voice. “Jack, they’re sold out! And they don’t just give backstage tickets to anybody who asks.”

  Jack shrugged and gave her a sly smile. “True. But I’ll get us some.”

  Samantha gave him a sad shake of her head and patted his arm. “Jack, I’m sorry but they just don’t have anything. Trust me. I’ve tried, and I know all the tricks to get them.”

  “You wanna bet?”

  Samantha’s eyes narrowed, she cocked her head to the side, and pursed her lips in suspicion. “I don’t know. What do you wanna bet?”

  Jack chuckled. “Oh, nothing you wouldn’t approve of,” he said with a wink.

  She grasped his hand in a firm grip. “You can narrow it down a little more than that,” she said in a sweet tone.

  Jack sighed and pulled in a deep breath. “Always trying to rush me,” he said with a shake of his head. “How about another swim on the beach?” he asked with a mischievous smile.