Forge of War (Jack of Harts)

by Pryde, Medron

  Jack pursed his lips, thinking that Tom meant something other than what it sounded like. “That we want to fly Peloran warships?” he asked anyways, wondering how Tom would respond.

  Tom raised an eyebrow at Jack. “That we can do anything they can,” he said in an exasperated tone. “We stand next to the Peloran as equals.” He looked towards the ruins again, shaking his head. “This is the example that the Shang want us to have. That if we stand against them, we will fall. But if we win this War, if we survive to the end, we can give everyone a different example. A better example.” He paused to let a ghost of a smile touch his lips. “And maybe it’s my civilian background talking here, but I don’t think it’s the military service we are part of that everyone else will remember. Marine, Space Force, civilian. Whatever.” Tom pursed his lips for a moment, and then brought a hand up to pat the chest over his heart. “What they’ll know in here, what they’ll feel, is that we were part of the fleet that kicked the Shang’s asses across the universe.” He looked up into the sky and let out a long, crystallizing breath. “They’ll remember us. Marine Fighter Attack Squadron 112. The Cowboys.” Tom met Jack’s gaze, and his eyes burned with fervor. “We should make that mean something.” Tom shivered despite the passion he felt. Or maybe because of it. “But now, I really need to get back under cover. It’s getting damn cold out here.”

  Jack nodded and watched Tom walk away for a while before turning back to the ruins of New Washington’s capital. He considered what Tom had to say for a long time, Betty and Jasmine standing next to him as always. They were real good partners.

  Hello, my name is Jack. Sometimes I’ve wondered what that means. Who am I? I’ve never fully answered that question to myself, beyond the obvious answer of course. I am who I choose to be. I was born Jack, and I took to the name with a passion. I was given the name Hart, and after some griping I chose to accept it. I am Jack Hart. People have taken to calling me Jack of Harts.

  Jack

  A chill east wind blew across the beach from Rainy Lake, cooling the heat of the sand that had been baked by the sun all day long. Waves rippled across the lake, reflecting the light of a full moon across the beach and the double decker pontoon boat anchored a mere ten meters from shore. A bonfire six meters high crackled on the beach, licking the sky with fire, warming the people dancing next to it, and bringing the smell of burning pinecones to their noses. Another one snapped, crackled, and shot out of the fire, causing one young man to jump out of its way with a curse.

  Jack frowned. Maybe the pinecones hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had. They smelled good. They sounded good too. But they might not be entirely safe.

  He shrugged and continued to blow into his harmonica, playing whatever notes sounded good with Jennifer’s guitar. She sang a song about love and water as Taylor sang harmony, jingling her tambourine against a leg with one arm. The other hand tapped a leg in time with the music, and their friends danced next to the bonfire.

  The song came to an end and it was time to go. Jack wrapped the old harmonica up, slipped it in his right shirt pocket, and gave the two girls a jaunty salute. Then he stepped away and walked towards the beach. A quick flick of his hands popped the snaps of the shirt open, another motion slipped it off, and he wadded it up before tossing the harmonica-laden fabric towards his lounge chair.

  The harmonica safe, he walked into the lake where an impressive water fight raged. He cupped his hands and shot a focused wave of water at the boys and girls as he waded out into the waves. Well, mostly the girls. They shrieked or yelled and splashed back at him, welcoming him into the war. A girl snuck up from behind and pulled him beneath the waves. They slipped under the water and he struggled enough to keep her fighting for control, but not enough to escape her grasp. He spun to face her and recognized Jenna’s golden hair as it created a writhing halo around her face.

  The sandy lake bottom cushioned his fall and his hands shot out to tickle her. She writhed under the surprise assault and her elbows and knees impacted all over his body until she laughed, expelling the air from her lungs in an explosion of bubbles. Unable to stay under water, she spun away from him, planted her feet on his chest, and stood up. He saw her burst out of the water, looking for a fresh breath of air in the flickering firelight, and fought to keep from involuntarily breathing himself. He wasn’t about to say it, but she felt rather heavy with her toes digging into his lungs.

  He waited for Jenna to get one good breath before sweeping her legs out from under her. She fell with an outraged shriek Jack could hear even under water as he maneuvered, pushing himself off the sandy bottom and bringing his feet under him. His legs pushed against the soft ground and he rose up out of the water, arms reaching out to pull her spluttering form out with him.

  A quick scan for open water near someone else in the water fight brought up three possibilities. Jack smiled, hefted the livid Jenna up into the air, and threw her out over the fight. She splashed into the water, drenching the target that had so far avoided the fight to the bone. As the other girl stood there in shock, looking down at her wet t-shirt, Jenna came back up spluttering for air and shouting scurrilous condemnations of his moral character.

  “Oh if your mother could hear you talk!” Jack shouted towards her. “She would tan your hide!”

  She stomped her feet into the sand. “Well that’s just fine, because you are never coming home to see my mother so she won’t have to hear it!” she shouted back.

  He laughed at the verbal assault, brought a hand up to cover his heart, and fell back into the water as if mortally wounded. Then under water, he swam back to the pontoon boat before surfacing to use its bulk as protection against anybody else coming up from behind him.

  “Nice job,” a voice said and he looked up to see Kelly draped over the edge of the pontoon wearing a smile. “Do you want protection from the fight?”

  “I don’t know,” Jack answered with a smirk. “Favors from you usually come with strings attached.”

  She laughed and jumped to her feet. Her arms spread out wide and she turned in a circle so he could see her every curve. “Take a close look, Jack. I don’t have a single string attached.”

  Jack laughed and shook his head. “I think you’re confusing strings with stitches.”

  Kelly looked down at her body, cocked her head to the side in thought, and then shook her head. “No, I’m pretty sure I mean strings.”

  “I don’t know,” Jack said as he sent a wave of water into a man getting a little too close to him. The man spluttered for breath, wiped the water from his eyes, and turned away to bother someone else. “Can I trust you not to take advantage of me?”

  “Today you can,” she returned with a waggle of her eyebrows. “I like today. I want to see how today works out. Pinky promise,” she finished, going down on her knees to wiggle her pinkies in front of his face.

  “Well, if it’s a pinky promise,” Jack said and turned to grab the offered fingers.

  She lifted him onto the pontoon without effort to deposit him on the deck in front of her, their noses nearly touching. A number of partiers danced to the sound of the music from the beach around him, and he breathed in the scent of sweet jasmine. She winked, knowing exactly what that smell meant to him.

  “You really like this, don’t you?” he asked with a rueful shake of his head, releasing her hands.

  “I love this!” she answered, jumping up and down and clapping her hands above her head. “Nothing beats a good party!”

  “Well, what else should I use my imagination for?” Jack whispered and stepped back from the show to turn towards the beach where all of his friends from back home, and a few more from now, danced and had fun. They really were all just a part of his imagination if he was right. A way for him to cope with losing them. But every time he met the Kelly and Betty who most assuredly were not the Kelly and Betty he knew he wondered just how much of it really was his imagination.

  “Well you should exercise it more often,” Kelly whisp
ered into his ear, dancing to the music close enough that the hairs on this back felt her.

  He saw Betty sitting on the beach and sighed. “Maybe next time,” he said to Kelly as Betty looked up from the magazine she was reading to stare at him. “I think she’s waiting for me.”

  Kelly sniffed in disapproval.

  He aimed a raised eyebrow at her. “Really? Is that all you have?”

  “Well, she’s always trying to hold you back. The only reason you listen to her is because I picked the wrong look.” She waved her hands at her body and sighed loud enough to make him laugh. “And to think I had first choice.”

  Jack laughed. “You never could have pulled off Betty well enough to fool me,” he said before poking Kelly in the arm. “But you almost had me.”

  “We can fix that any day you want,” Kelly’s said with a sly smile.

  Jack laughed again. “I’ll pass for today.”

  She leaned in close to him and he felt every curve of her body as she whispered into his ear. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  Jack smiled, pulled in a long breath, and realized he was completely at peace with his decision. “I know.” He leaned into her and whispered into her ear. “But one day I think we’ll agree on my future,” he said with a poke of his finger into her ribs.

  Kelly squealed and spun away, waving her arms at him in disgust. “Oh, you are impossible!” she shouted in an angry tone, but he could see the playfulness in her smile putting the lie to her act. He had no idea who she was, but he was certain she wanted the best for him. And one day he had a feeling they really would agree on what that was. But not today. It was far too early for either of them to budge a centimeter. Even if she was just a part of his imagination talking to him.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he answered, raised a finger to his temple in a mock salute, and dived off the pontoon into much shallower water than any expert ever recommended. He arched his back, splayed his hands and feet out, and felt the water rush by as he sank towards the sand. He finally pulled out of the dive, low enough in the water that he felt the hairs on his chest rubbing against the sand, and shot through the water fight. He kicked his legs, keeping his speed up, and arched his body and arms to steer around the legs of the fighters splashing water on each other above the surface.

  Two bodies fell into the water in front of him and he banked to the side, passing by their writhing forms with millimeters to spare. A foot brushed the hair on his arm and he tucked it in close as he turned back towards the beach. Legs drove him forward with a constant kick that churned the water behind him until it was too shallow to swim in. He raised himself to his feet then, pulled in a long breath, and walked out onto the sand. He reached his lounge chair and bent down to grab his shirt, shaking the sand out of it before slipping it on. Then the lounge chair protested as he plopped down next to Betty.

  Betty remained seated in her lounge chair, legs crossed and reading a magazine. “You know, you really should wake up soon.”

  Jack turned his head to her and just smiled. “You think I’ve had enough of a rest?”

  “Actually,” she began with a shrug. “I think you don’t really need this dream anymore.”

  Jack shivered at the idea, and began fastening the snaps of his shirt to give him time to think. He gazed out on all the friends he had here, so many of them long dead. This was the only way he had to see them, and he didn’t want to give that up. “I don’t know,” he finally whispered.

  Betty just shook her head at him and a soft smile colored her face. “I do. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to stop straddling the line between real life and…this,” she said and waved her hand at the bonfire.

  Jack shook his head and chuckled, determined to keep his mood light. “Well, I think I’ll pick later and just enjoy my time for now.” He winked, but she just shook her head again.

  “This isn’t life, Jack.” She rolled over, raised a hand, and placed a finger against his forehead. “This is just the place were you keep yourself from dying.”

  Jack pulled away and swatted her hand. “Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine today,” he said in a dark tone.

  The Betty that most certainly was not the Betty of his waking world just smiled. “I will never lie to you, Jack. The fact is, this fracture in your mind isn’t really healthy. Not long term at least. And you don’t need it short term anymore either. You really can accept that so many of them are dead now.” She waved a hand at the partiers around them. “The longer you hold onto them, the longer you try to forget that they’re gone, the harder it will be to remember which life is real and which is dream.”

  “Actually, I think I’m doing pretty good on that point.”

  “You’re improving,” Betty said with a shrug. “You’re building new friendships, relationships that make you want to stay.” She aimed a serious gaze at him. “But you’re afraid of leaving these behind. You don’t want your old friends to think you’ve replaced them.”

  Jack turned away from those words and scanned the party full of so many people he loved. So many people he’d never thought he would live without. But he didn’t have any words.

  “You survived, Jack,” Betty continued after realizing he wasn’t going to respond. “I’m sorry that so many people died. But there are a lot of people to live for too. Taylor and Jennifer. Sam. The Cowboys. And…well…” she trailed off as she wave a hand at her own face and smiled.

  Jack shook his head as another thought came to mind. “See, that actually brings a real important question to mind,” he said with a smile.

  “What?” Betty asked, her face showing curiosity at his change in attitude.

  “I don’t know who you are,” he noted with a chuckle. She raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, you’re not Betty.” He waved a hand towards Taylor and Jennifer. “Not in the way they’re…well…who they appear to be.” He shrugged, unable to entirely put words to what he thought. “I mean, they act like…I suppose my mind thinks they should.” He turned back to Betty to see a thoughtful expression on her face. “You though. You aren’t Betty. Not at all. The question is, who are you?”

  Betty relaxed back in her lounge chair, her smile betraying profound amusement. “So who do you think I am?”

  Jack snorted at the impossible question. “I have no idea.” He shook his head and spun his hand around in the air to burn off nervous energy. “A shrink would say you’re just a figment of my imagination, a piece of myself arguing with me over what to do next and using the forms of people I lo-” Jack cut off and cleared his throat. That was a word he wasn’t ready for yet. Not with this person that wasn’t her. “People I trust…to…get my attention.”

  Betty’s face twisted in a knowing smile that said he hadn’t fooled her. Or himself. Whatever. “So what’s wrong with that idea?” was all she asked though.

  Jack sighed, swung his feet off the end of the chair, and planted them in the sand so he could face her with all of his attention. “Because if you’re just a part of my imagination, a piece of me, then I’m telling myself that I should leave this place and never come back.” He shook his head in wonder at the crazy story coming out of his lips. “The problem is, I like you. I like them,” he said and waved his hand at the partier. “I love all of this. I want to see everything here again. How can I leave it behind?” He sucked in a long breath and met her gaze with as much composure as he could summon. “But if I’m the one telling me this, how can I not trust me?”

  Betty nodded, as if giving him a point in a match of mental fencing. The understanding look that was such a mirror of the real Betty looked back at him, and she sighed. “So that’s what a shrink would tell you?”

  Jack snorted. “Pretty much. Though I figure they’d have a lot of bigger words that I wouldn’t understand in there.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Betty snickered back.

  “See?” Jack said with a wave of his hand to her. “Already getting the lingo down. That’s me. Saying what I think some other guy wou
ld say.” He shook his head, trying wrap his mind around the craziness in his…mind. “Well…making you say,” he added with an awkward shrug.

  Betty turned and used one arm as a prop to gaze at him. “So, what if the shrink was wrong? What if I’m…not a figment of your imagination?”

  Jack let out another long breath and felt every muscle go slack as he considered that possibility. “Well,” he finally whispered. “That’s where things get really scary.”

  Betty frowned at his words and pursed her lips. “Why?”

  “Oh, that’s easy.” Jack chuckled, and realized it sounded a lot more frantic than he wanted it to. “Some of the things I’ve thought…I’d really like to keep them to myself, and the idea that someone else could see them all in living color is…rather scary.”

  Betty’s face softened again in understanding. “So if I’m someone else, who am I?”

  Jack laughed out loud, this time far more confident in himself. “Hypothetically speaking?”

  “Hypothetically speaking,” Betty returned with a slow nod.

  Jack sucked in a deep breath and plunged in. “Well, that’s easy. You, my dear, would surely have to be the guardian angel keeping a fool like me from killing himself off.”

  Betty giggled at the idea and shook her head. “And what makes you think a sane God would only task one angel with keeping a fool like you alive?”

  Jack snorted, amazingly relieved to actually be voicing the idea. Hypothetically speaking of course. “Well, maybe you’re the front man.” He winced as she raised an eyebrow at him. “The front woman.” She smiled approvingly at the correction. “Or maybe the cutout, the fall girl should things go wrong.” She didn’t look as happy about that idea. “You know. Hypothetically throwing darts against the wall,” he temporized.