by Isaac Hooke
Again I heard him fire.
"Bitch," I muttered.
"Hey," Alejandro said, not looking from his scope. "Not my fault if the bad guys decide to show themselves on my watch."
"Maybe they just find Alejandro more attractive than you, Rade," Tahoe said from his position by the door.
"What?" I said. "With his ugly face? Right."
"You never know," Tahoe said. "The insurgents might have a thing for ugly. You've heard of the similarity theory of personal attraction? You know, ugly attracts ugly?"
"Now you're talking."
"Well, if that were true," Alejandro said. "Then Tahoe would be getting all the baddies. Because he is one ugleee bastard."
"Hey, I'm married," Tahoe said.
"So?" Alejandro pressed. "What does that have to do with anything? You think mamacitas marry only handsome dudes?"
"In my case, yes. Besides, I'm an artist in bed."
Alejandro chuckled. "That's fine, mighty fine. But it's not going to help you in the end. You do know that the divorce rate for MOTHs is ninety percent, right? Artist in bed." He shook his head. "That only makes it worse when you're away. She gets used to that constant pleasuring, and comes to expect it. What do you think your mamacita's doing back home right now? When the cat's away..."
"Hey." Tahoe turned away from his position for the first time. "Don't you be talking about my wife like that."
Alejandro shifted beside me, but he still hadn't looked from his scope. "Relax hombre. I was kidding. Of course she's keeping all alone and to herself right now, raising those kids of yours. Of course she's not giving the plumber a special bonus payment involving handcuffs and bed poles and—"
"That's it!" Tahoe locked his M60 and sloughed it off his shoulder.
I sat up. "Get back to your position, Tahoe. Get right back. Now! Do your job."
"Well tell him to quit provoking me," Tahoe said petulantly, though he did pick up his M60 again.
"He's just mad because I'm getting all the baddies," Alejandro said.
I made my voice as stern as possible. "Stop provoking him, Alejandro."
"Yes sir." He looked away from the scope for the first time, and glanced back at Tahoe. "Rade here thinks he's Junior Chief or something."
"Every second you take your eyes away from that scope is a second one of our guys could die," I told Alejandro. "Remember that."
He shook his head. "Caramba. Two seconds. I look away for two seconds." He put his eye back on the rifle site. "How long do you think Tahoe looked away from the hallway he was supposed to be watching?"
Normally the two of them were way easier to get along with but we'd been out here for about eighteen hours straight now, and we were getting on each other's nerves. That was nothing compared to the five days we stayed awake during Trial Week of course. But still, the lack of sleep didn't have the greatest impact on our moods.
"How's it look up there, mate?" Facehopper sent on our fire team frequency, in that slight British accent of his.
"Great view, great view, Facehopper," Alejandro replied. "All is well. Just took over from Rade. Got four kills so far." He just had to rub it in, didn't he?
"Well, let me know when you need to find a new hide," Facehopper sent.
"Roger that," Alejandro said. "We should be good for the next half-hour or so, sir."
I shook my head. "Why does Facehopper still think he needs to babysit us? We've been on deployment for two months, you'd think we'd know our way around by now."
"I heard that, Rade," Facehopper sent.
"Oh." I felt my face flush. "Sorry sir, I thought my comm was off."
"It was," Facehopper sent. "But your mate kept his turned on."
Alejandro winked at me.
"Anyway, as always, be sure to let me know when you switch hides," Facehopper sent.
"Affirmative," Alejandro returned. "By the way, sir, any openings for ATLAS 5 pilots coming up soon?"
"Negative," Facehopper answered.
Alejandro shrugged. "Had to ask."
Behind me, I heard a muted thud as the far door to the apartment burst open.
"Fuck." Tahoe opened fire.
"Sir sir taking fire sir sir!" I sent to Facehopper, ducking beside the doorway of our room.
Alejandro rolled from the window and took up a position on the other side of the doorway, beside Tahoe.
"Sit tight," Facehopper transmitted. "We're coming up."
I glanced at the situation map overlaid on the upper right of my vision. Seven red dots had appeared on the far side of the hallway, the last known positions of the targets Tahoe's Implant had flagged and transmitted to the rest of us. Meanwhile, on the street outside, two green dots were quickly converging on our building.
"Where did they come from?" I asked Tahoe.
"Dunno," he said from where he was crouched behind the doorway opposite me.
"Cover me," I told him.
Tahoe rammed the barrel of his M60 past the doorway and laid down suppressive fire.
I peered past the edge of the doorway. My Implant was supposed to outline the bodies of positively identified attackers in red, but I saw only one outline at that moment. Actually, only part of an outline—the target was ducked inside one of the side rooms, leaning against the doorway, waiting for the suppressive fire to stop.
I only had a thin sliver of a man to aim at, but I did, and shot. The red outline darkened as the target toppled, as did the dot on the map. Speaking of which, the other red dots blinked out because I couldn't see any of the other targets and my Implant had decided to make an update.
My target's weapon flopped out the doorway, and when I saw the make and model I realized we were in serious trouble.
I immediately ducked back behind cover.
"Only got one?" Tahoe said, pulling back as well.
"One." I agreed. "They got armor piercers."
"Shit."
We dropped to the floor as gunshots echoed from the hall. Pieces of plaster and dust rained down on us as holes appeared in the wall above.
"Facehopper, now would be a good time," I sent on my comm.
"Bender and Big Dog are almost there," Facehopper sent back.
I glanced at the friendlies on the HUD. Two greens were right on our position.
"I don't see..."
Big Dog came leaping through the window, courtesy of his jumpjets. Shooting the whole while, he unleashed a hail of M60 machine-gun fire down the hall.
Bender appeared right on his heels, a Carl Gustav on his shoulder.
On cue, Big Dog stopped firing and dropped.
"Wait," I said. "Don't fire that in—"
Bender launched the Gustav rocket.
The explosion from the hallway sent me flying across the room and I rammed against the far wall.
I lay there on the floor, coughing up plaster dust, my hearing filled with a high-pitched keening sourced by my own eardrum.
The four other members of the platoon were piled against the wall beside me. Well, except for Big Dog, who still lay where he had dropped on the floor.
Bender crawled to his feet, caked in gray dust. "Yeah baby! Yeah!" I couldn't see his gold chains because of the jumpsuit, but that didn't mean he wasn't wearing them. He still had those loop earrings on after all, swinging away. "Threat neutralized," he said, flashing his gold teeth in a grin. Those teeth seemed exceptionally bright with the rest of his face covered in dust like that.
Big Dog and Tahoe went into the hall to confirm that the threat was indeed neutralized.
We waited a few tense moments.
"Clear," Big Dog said.
Alejandro sighed heavily, and slumped against the wall. "You crazy, man?" he told Bender. "You could have killed us."
"Not a chance," Bender said. "Come on, live a little dudes."
Big Dog returned from the hall. "Blew half the apartment clean away."
"That's what I'm talking about!" Bender high-fived him.
I glanced past Big Dog. The middle of t
he hallway ended in a precarious ledge that dangled off into empty space. The whole back side of the two-story building was just gone.
"He's crazy," Alejandro said. "Loco."
"We're all a bit crazy," Bender said. "Why do you think we're here?"
"Suck it up," Big Dog patted Alejandro on the shoulder.
Tahoe shook his head. "Now I know why they call him Bender."
We got only that proud, golden smile in return.
"By the way, you might want to find a new hide," Bender said. He gave us a mock salute, then leaped out the window.
"None of you were ever in any danger," Big Dog said. "The guy's got custom line-of-sight software installed in his Implant. Lets him calculate the explosive radius of his rockets down to the micrometer. What I'm saying is, we got your back. You just have to trust us, like how we're trusting you by giving you overwatch. So don't call him loco. Especially not after he saved your life. Now come on. Let's go find you a new hide."
Big Dog jumped out the window. I glanced at Alejandro, shrugged, and followed.
When the platoon finally got back to the makeshift camp later that night, I made a beeline for the sack. I was pretty much a zombie by then, but managed to place an empty bottle beside my bed to use a chamber pot—I did not want to have to get up in the middle of the night just to relieve myself.
Wake up call came a measly six hours later, and we did our own physical training on the floor beside our racks before hurrying off to breakfast (organized PT wasn't allowed—if you ran around outside doing PT you were liable to get shot by an enemy sniper).
Most of us kept to ourselves at breakfast, since we were still exhausted from the day before, and maybe a little sick of talking to the same people we'd be hanging out with for the rest of the day. So we buried ourselves in our Implants, reading, playing games, or calling friends and family while we ate.
Myself, I used the time to make a quick call to Shaw. She was graduating this week. It had been two years since I'd last met with her in person, back when I watched her depart in the vactrain after Basic. We just hadn't been able to arrange our hectic schedules. Twice when she was on leave, I just so happened to be on the moon for training. One time when I had a week off after finishing Advanced ATLAS Warfare school, she sent me a note explaining that she was on liberty, and would be visiting family. We agreed to meet. I bought a train ticket to visit her, but before I boarded she sent me another note telling me that she was really sorry but her liberty ended early. To this day I'm not sure if she really had been recalled, or just got cold feet and canceled.
That one night we'd shared together after Basic was a distant memory by now, and it may as well have never happened. I'd been with other girls since then of course but no one really compared to her. I wished things could have worked out differently, but I knew we'd never be together, not while the two of us were both on active duty. Even though we worked for the same branch of the military, our different ratings ensured we'd very likely never see each other again in person, not until our terms were up.
Unfortunately, I couldn't forget her.
"How's my favorite astronaut?" I said to the image floating in front of my eyes that morning. I was trying very hard to keep the regret out of my voice. She looked beautiful as always. She'd grown her hair out after that fiasco in Basic, and it was her dark, natural color. I liked it.
"Hey," Shaw said. She seemed a bit distant, which wasn't unusual. "How's the war going?"
"Not bad. But tell me, are you looking forward to graduating next week?"
"You remembered." She smiled. I really dug that smile, because her eyes always crinkled up, and her face just glowed with life. Plus she had those cute dimples. Abruptly she got this mischievous look about her, like she was up to something. "And, you'll be happy to know, this astronaut already has her first assignment!"
"Oh yeah? Do tell."
"It's all hush-hush, you understand. But I can tell you that I'm going to be the lead astrogator on a starship!"
I must have had the biggest smile in the world right then. "Shut-up! Congratulations are in order! I'm so proud you. I mean come on, lead astrogator for your first assignment? That's pretty sick."
"I know, right?" She bit her lower lip, and rocked her shoulders from side to side, almost like she was dancing. "I'm so excited."
"Yeah, I bet. You must have had some amazing qualification scores." Or maybe just slept with the right people. No. She wasn't like that.
"Yup. So." She was twirling her hair coyly with one finger. "Do you have any leave time coming up?"
I shook my head emphatically. "No. We're only seven weeks into the deployment. Got another six months to go. Course I don't have any leave. Nor do I want any. To be pulled out of action, now? This is why I immigrated to the UC in the first place. To make my mark. To fight." Maybe I was being a bit harsh with her, but hey, this was how I felt about it. I crossed my arms. "Why would you even bring up leave time? You've avoided meeting me for the past two years. Why pretend you want to meet me now all of sudden, when you know I can't? Trying to lead me on for all I'm worth?"
She seemed taken aback by my outburst. Good. "Rade, I haven't avoided you. It's just that, well, our schedules haven't meshed. You're completely misinterpreting—"
"I'm misinterpreting?" I said in disbelief. "Okay. Tell me something. If I said I had leave time, right now, at this moment, would you want to meet?"
"Of course."
"Would you really? Are you sure you wouldn't just cancel, like last time?"
She frowned, and finally sighed. "You're right. I'd probably cancel."
"There you go. Doesn't surprise me in the least. Look, I'm going to ask you something serious, and I want an ultra-serious answer. Do you even want to keep in touch anymore?"
Her frown deepened. "Why would you ask me something like that? Of course I do. We're friends."
I nodded slowly. "Friends. Yeah." Though I wanted more. So much more. But that's life, always wanting something you couldn't have.
An uncomfortable silence followed.
"So how are Tahoe and Alejandro?" she said finally, pretending that everything was just fine and dandy between us.
I rubbed my chin, glad for a change of subject. "Oh, you know, holding out. Alejandro's been keeping in touch with a stripper he met, and Tahoe—"
"Wait, what? A stripper?"
"Yeah. He met her back in California, at a strip club called Gaslamp."
"Ah, that's what you meant. I thought you were saying he'd met some Mongolian stripper or something!"
I had to laugh. "No, she's definitely not Mongolian. Though some of the chicks are pretty hot here, I have to say. A few of them wear these really interesting dresses..."
"Yeah, I've heard about those traditional 'dresses' of yours. They wouldn't be so bad if they weren't see-through!"
"Hey, who are we to judge the dress code of another society? Just because our own culture is full of prudes doesn't mean we have to look down upon an enlightened nation. I'm all for white, see-through dresses worn without underwear. I think women the world over should adopt the fashion."
"You would." She rubbed her eyes, and laughed quietly. It felt almost like old times. "So. Alejandro's dating a stripper. Is she real at least?"
"Yeah. Not a robot, if that's what you mean."
"I seem to remember he had a certain... predilection... for pleasure robots."
I chuckled. "Yeah, but he got over that."
"Good for him. So what about Tahoe? How is he doing?"
"He's good, but misses his wife and kids like crazy. I'm sure he's vid-chatting with her right now. Did I tell you the Chief finally cut through all the bureaucratic crap to get his family moved up to California?"
"No you didn't. And that's great." She glanced over her shoulder and nodded to someone behind her. I couldn't see who it was because only her face, neck and shoulders were illuminated, and everything else was dark. "Rade, I gotta go. Time to rack out."
"Oh yeah. I'm
always forgetting the timezone difference."
"G'night, Rade."
"Shaw wait."
"What?" The irritation in her voice caught me off guard, and kind of stung, especially since I was about to tell her something important, or so I thought.
"Well, I wanted to—" I hesitated. I should've probably let her go right then. Telling her how I felt about her would only mess things up between us. Not that things weren't messed up as it was. "It's just, you mean a lot to me Shaw."
She smiled. "That's sweet, Rade. Now I'm sorry, but I really have to go."
"No. I mean it. Remember when you told me to think about you in the deepest, darkest hours, when I thought I couldn't go on? Well I did, Shaw. I did. Thinking about you has gotten me through some very dark places."
She was quiet for a few seconds. And then:
"Look Rade, you and I... it was just a dream. That one night we had, it didn't happen. Not really. And as for that corny line about the deepest, darkest hours? I probably got it from some science fiction novel I was into at the time. Don't read too much into it. I care about you, I do, but we've grown apart. You know it. I know it. Even if we could arrange some time together, it would only be for a few nights, and then we'd have to be apart again. I can't live like that. Long distant relationships, they just don't work for me. I tried that already with my fiancé, and you know what happened there. I'm sorry."
"So am I."
"I have to go," Shaw said. "Something else. I won't be in touch for a while. This new starship I'm assigned to? Well there's kind of a mandatory communications blackout, so I'm going to be incommunicado for the next few months. I'm not sure when I'll be able to check my messages, let alone answer them. Definitely no vid chats."
I just stared at her, not sure if she was telling the truth or just making up some excuse to avoid future uncomfortable vid chats with me.
"Rade, did you hear what I said?"
"Yeah, I heard. That's fine, Shaw. Completely fine. Have fun on your deployment. Bye."
I disconnected.
* * *
