by Mike Freeman
She raised a playful eyebrow.
“Shame they couldn’t have done a little more.”
He looked wounded.
“It's minus ninety Celsius here.”
She laughed as she glanced again.
“Oh, Havoc. The cold doesn't seem to affect you too much though, does it?”
“Can I have a little privacy here?”
“Well sure, Mister strip naked right in front of me and then ask me not to look.”
He stepped into his replacement suit and it sealed around him.
She frowned.
“What about contamination?”
Havoc tested his suit systems.
“The suit will clear it.”
She watched him. He looked big and dangerous. Scary. She felt a sense of dread but she needed answers.
“Havoc?”
Filament blades slid in and out. The jet thrusters behind his shoulders raised and retracted.
“Uh huh?”
“My father?”
He stopped and looked at her. She had to know.
“That was him I saw with you?”
“Yeah.”
She felt desolate.
“You killed my father?”
Havoc stared through her. She grimaced in anticipation of his answer. He sighed.
“I let him down.”
She shook her head, feeling lost. She didn’t understand.
He stepped toward her. She watched him nervously. He extended his hand toward her.
“This is the extraction from an ORC TRB camp. He was in rough shape. I tried to get him out. Neither of us made it.”
She stared at his hand.
“Neither of you?”
“I was clinically dead for twenty six hours.”
She reached her hand tentatively forward. He moved his hand away a little.
“You have to be sure you want to see this. It's bad.”
She nodded.
“I want to see it.”
Havoc touched her hand. Data flew across. Weaver opened the file on receipt. It was from Havoc's sensory perspective.
Weaver threw her head back and cried out at the pain she was registering. She dialed it way down. The scene was picturesque and disturbing. Havoc lay in the water at the head of a lake. The view across the water was beautiful. Havoc’s leg reared up in front of him. He was badly injured and could only see out of one eye. He coughed up blood and pain tore through him. He turned his head. Weaver gasped.
Havoc was looking at her father.
She cried, and watched, and cried.
~ ~ ~
They flew in silence toward the rendezvous with Tyburn. Four of Havoc's platforms escorted their shuttle.
Weaver cleared her throat.
“I want to say thank you.”
“Thank you?”
“For trying to save my father. And for helping him, you know, at the end. With his pain. And his dignity.”
“I should have got him out. We'll get the people who did it.”
She swallowed. She was crying again, quietly, missing her dad.
“I don't care about that.”
“You don't care?”
“I just hope I can forgive them.”
“Why the hell would you want to forgive them?”
“I just––”
“They abducted and tortured your father.”
“I want to see justice done, Havoc. But I don't want to live with resentment. I've seen it. My mum and dad resented each other for the last fourteen years of their lives before he disappeared. They couldn't forgive each other. That resentment ruined their lives and my relationship with my dad. Fourteen years, wasted.”
“Some things can't be forgiven.”
“You think your wife would want your entire life to be destroyed by what happened to your family?”
“I don't pretend to know. I'm just doing what I have to do.”
Weaver gazed out the window. She shook her head.
“Resentment is like you drinking poison and then hoping for your enemy to die.”
Havoc glanced sideways at her.
“I'm not just hoping my enemy will die.”
Weaver sighed.
“Revenge just binds you to your enemy stronger. They're always inside you, corroding you from the inside. The resentment only damages you and not them. I won't fall into that trap.”
“You're talking about resentment; I'm talking about revenge.”
“Revenge is its own executioner, Havoc.”
“I see it as justice.”
“Two sides of the same coin, for you.”
“Maybe it's worth it.”
She turned to him.
“Then there’s no revenge so complete as forgiveness.”
Havoc stared straight ahead. He didn’t answer.
~ ~ ~
Weaver watched the ground speeding past as Havoc piloted the shuttle.
“What else did you do?”
“I stayed alive.”
“Staying alive isn’t a full time job.”
“It is for me.”
She made a face.
“Does everybody hate you?”
“Yeah. You get used to it.”
She frowned.
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
“No, trust me, everybody does.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“Oh.”
“Are you ok, Havoc? You look a little... worn out.”
He turned to her and raised an eyebrow.
“Many a good tune played on an old fiddle, Weaver.”
She smiled.
“Ah ha. It lives.”
He smiled a little. She felt a twang as his face turned serious again. He shook his head.
“More than three hundred thousand people, Weaver. Seventeen crew. And my family. My heart is so fucking heavy, it pulls me down.”
“If your heart is a desert, no flowers can grow there.”
“I know that. I haven't relaxed for eleven years. I can't breathe any more.”
“You just need a new road.”
“All the roads look the same to me.”
“That’s because all roads lead to the same end, Havoc. It's the journey, not the destination.”
He smiled at her.
“You going to save me, Weaver?”
She smiled back.
“Save one man, save the world.”
He looked at her.
“You’re very talkative.”
“Well I have a lot of things to tell you, now that I know you’re not a bad person.”
“I hate to argue with you, especially about the last bit, but––”
“Shush. Let me finish. Don’t you want me to talk?”
“Yeah, I like it.” He reddened. “I mean, you know...”
She beamed at him.
“I have found that if you love life, Havoc, then life will love you back.”
He brought the shuttle onto its final heading.
“Uh huh. Maybe it's not as simple as that for some people.”
“People set too many conditions for happiness. Love life without condition and feel grateful for what you have. It really works.”
He glanced sideways at her. She thought she might be getting through.
He shook his head.
“Loving life without condition needs trust, Weaver. I've tried that. It didn't work out. I mean, look what happened.”
“You mean with Stephanie?”
His mouth twisted as he nodded.
“Yeah. Forge. Steph.”
“It's natural to trust someone you're with. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
“I just can't believe I let her fool me for that long. No wonder she wanted me to go Flag.”
“She's a professional spy.”
“I'm such an idiot.”
“You can't blame yourself.”
“Maybe. I can't believe I slept with her.”
“What! You did what?”
&n
bsp; “On the Intrepid.”
“You fucking moron! How could you not realize?”
“What? She's a professional spy, remember?”
Weaver impersonated a low voice.
“Oh no please don't sleep with me sexy secret agent Stephanie oh no.”
He laughed, despite himself.
She glared at him.
“Humph.”
“Look, when we get there, I want you to stay at the camp.”
“No.”
“It's going to be dangerous.”
She crossed her arms.
“I said no.”
He looked concerned.
“I'm just not sure that it's, you know, for you.”
“I'm going.”
“You're sure?”
She raised her chin defiantly.
“Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, except backward and in high heels.”
208.
Havoc landed the shuttle to one side of the ORC encampment, located twenty minutes flight time from the beam control building. He exited the shuttle with Weaver. They passed open containers of combat equipment on their way to a cluster of cabins.
Forge marched out to meet them with Ekker at his side and two ORC drop troopers behind him.
Forge stuck out his hand.
“Alright, Son, let save humanity. No hard feelings.”
Havoc couldn't handle it. Hatred boiled up in him like superheated gas. Shaking hands with this motherfucker was beyond what he was capable of. He turned to his right as his entire body tensed and his psyche screamed in protest. His face contorted as dark energy coursed through him, consuming him and threatening to tear him apart.
There was an ORC heavy combat suit in front of him. He roared and smashed off its helmet. He counter-rotated and his fist hammered into its upper thigh. The leg of the suit buckled and fractured. His fist rocketed out, bursting through the suit and into the atmo beyond.
He glowered as the broken suit toppled to the ground.
Ekker and the ORC troopers raised their weapons in alarm.
~ ~ ~
Tyburn held out his arms to restrain Ekker and the ORC troopers as he contemplated Havoc’s display.
“Alright, everyone. It’s fine. That suit was for you, Havoc. Guess you don't need it.”
Havoc stood sideways to him with his fists clenched, glaring outward.
Tyburn streamed data to him.
“Here's the plan. We'll approach from the south. You, me and Ekker will enter one entrance to the west of the ORC team. Frequencies, IFF codes, it's all there. I was going to talk you through it, but maybe we should leave it there if you can't handle it.”
“You bastard.”
Tyburn stepped forward and talked into the side of Havoc's helmet like a drill sergeant dressing down a cadet.
“Jing jing, Havoc. War is hell. You know it, you killed your fair share. I never wanted what happened to your family. You know what I’d do to those scum. But shit happens. Life isn't fair. You'll get your chance. I relish the prospect. But this is bigger than you and me, Son. I happen to think that humanity is worth saving from some alien virus. So are we going to do this or not?”
Tyburn stepped back.
Havoc turned to face Tyburn.
“We are.”
Tyburn nodded, satisfied.
“Glad to hear it, Son.”
Havoc walked away. Tyburn called after him.
“Who knows, maybe the Gathering will do you a favor.”
Havoc stopped abruptly and looked back.
“The only person who will kill you is me.”
Tyburn grinned.
“That's more like it, Son. We move out in five.”
Ekker moved alongside Tyburn as Havoc walked away. Ekker pointed at the shattered combat suit.
> Should he even be able to do that?
Tyburn shook his head.
> No one can do that.
209.
Havoc piloted their shuttle in formation behind Tyburn’s ORC spear. His platforms roared forward as they neared the target, precipitating bright flashes on the skyline. The dome of the beam control building appeared on the horizon.
Weaver turned to him with a positive expression. Her tone was upbeat.
“It's good you can work with him.”
“He's a dead man walking.”
“Wow. I really thought I was getting through to you there.”
“We're different. We approach things differently.”
“Wouldn't you like to have a day when you didn't wake up thinking about Forge?”
“That day will come soon enough.”
Weaver sighed. She gazed out at the passing terrain as they sped low over the ground.
“I can't believe you slept with that slut. You've had such bad taste in women.”
“I don't think my wife would agree with you.”
Weaver winced.
“I meant before. You know that.”
“It's not a mistake I’ll repeat.”
“Surely you don't mean ever.”
“In the foreseeable future.”
Weaver smiled.
“You just need the right girl in your life. Then you could wake up thinking about her instead.”
“I remember a girl screaming at me in the Hub Hab.”
“All relationships have their ups and downs, Havoc.”
“Relationships?”
“Do you believe in love at first sight?”
“No idea. Do you?”
“Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time.”
He laughed.
“I'll bet you could charm the birds off the trees, Miss Weaver.”
“Why thank you, Mr Havoc. But I'm not an easy catch, let me tell you.”
He banked the shuttle.
“What's the hardest fish to catch?”
Weaver frowned.
“I have no idea.”
He brought them in to land.
“Well it depends on whether you throw them overarm or underarm.”
She groaned.
He chuckled.
“So you can read the alien systems?”
“Yes.”
“That makes you pretty valuable, I guess.”
“Pretty valuable? You guess?”
The shuttle touched down and Havoc stood up.
“Ok. You stay with the vehicle.”
“No, I should come.”
“No, you shouldn't.”
“What if we need to access an Aulusthran system?”
Havoc walked back to the kit racks.
“Then I'll come and get you.”
Weaver followed him indignantly.
“Hey we're a team!”
“Sometimes teams split up, Weaver.”
She frowned.
“That doesn't sound much like a team to me.”
He reached into a cabinet and passed her a handgun.
“Take this, just in case.”
Weaver hefted the weapon, aiming along it. He reached forward and pressed the barrel down gently.
“Careful with that. Unlike the one I gave Stone that one is actually loaded.”
“You gave Stone an unloaded gun?”
Havoc gave Weaver a look that said, is that a serious question? She frowned thoughtfully. He gestured at the weapon in her hand.
“Look there isn't much I can tell you about reacting except... if something happens, don't freeze ok? Do something. It might be wrong. But just do something.”
“It can't be that hard. If you listen to you security types––”
“Us what?”
“––then you'd think it was hypercantelivian dynamics.”
He shook his head.
“The weapon is just a tool, Weaver. You see what a master artist can get out of a brush or virtuoso out of a piano. It's the same thing. Some people have a gift. I put my time into violence. Thousands of hours. I don't want to boast but you work it out.”
Weaver looked distinctly unimp
ressed. She curled her tongue as she sighted along the weapon.
“I got you, didn't I?”
~ ~ ~
Havoc glanced at Weaver as he did his final checks.
“Should we try to save Abbott?”
“You have to remember that Abbott isn't Abbott. He is the Talmas.”
Havoc thought about it.
“If this was a government mission they'd want a sample.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Any chance we can reason with it?”
“How does a snake feel about a rodent?”
“Ok, got it. And you don't think we can separate them?”
She shook her head slowly.
“Not at this stage. We don’t know enough.”
“How capable is this thing?”
Weaver pursed her lips.
“Well Abbott is extremely capable, obviously. And the Talmas is very intelligent. More intelligent than... us.”
'More intelligent than... us,' he thought. Cheeky bitch. She stood watching him with her bright green eyes and her hair tied back. He gestured at her, his voice serious.
“You need to take off that headband.”
She looked strangely at him. He waited. She reached up, undid her headband and drew it out around her neck. She shook out her hair and looked at him expectantly.
He nodded.
“Good. Now stuff it in your mouth.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes. He laughed and turned away. She poked him with her finger.
“Your heroine is currently struggling to understand her hero's difficulties in relating to her; her being so wonderful as well as an all out sexy badass.”
He smiled as he shook his head.
“So if this thing in the beam gets out, it's curtains for us?”
“The Diss? They’d still have to be targeted. But it’s fair to say that we're a step nearer annihilation, yes.”
He nodded, preoccupied by what she'd said.
She grinned.
“But you met me, right?”
He chuckled and nodded. She watched him expectantly. He turned to leave. Her eyebrow shot up.
“What? Are you off women at the moment, Havoc?”
He turned and looked at her.
“You look good, Weaver.”
“Don’t you forget it, Mister.”
“I'll be back for you.”
“You better.”
He glanced around the shuttle.
“Don't take any chances. Keep your suit on. Recode the door. You know, just the––”
“Obvious?”
