Old Man's War omw-1

by John Scalzi

  "I was under the impression that it was about magically being transported into a body of a twenty-year-old and being so excited about it that it was imperative to have wild sex with the very first person we saw."

  Jesse stared at me for a second, then burst out laughing. "Yes! That's exactly it. Although in my case, it was the second person. I have a roommate, you know."

  "Yeah? How does Maggie clean up?"

  "Oh my God," Jesse said. "She makes me look like a beached whale, John."

  I ran my hands over her sides. "That's a mighty fine beached whale, Jesse."

  "I know!" Jesse said, and suddenly sat up, straddling me. She raised her arms up and crossed them behind her head, perking up her already marvelously firm and full breasts. I felt her inner thighs radiating heat as they wrapped around my midsection. I knew that even though I didn't have an erection at that very moment, one was coming right up. "I mean, look at me," she said, unnecessarily, because I hadn't taken my eyes off her from the moment she sat up. "I look fabulous. I don't say that to be vain. It's just I never looked this good in real life. Not even close."

  "I find that hard to believe," I said.

  She grabbed her breasts and pointed the nipples at my face. "See these?" she said, and wiggled the left one. "In real life, this one was a cup size smaller than this one, and it was still too large. I had a permanent backache from puberty onward. And I think they were this firm for one week when I was thirteen. Maybe."

  She reached down, grabbed my hands, and placed them on her perfect, flat belly. "I never had one of these, either," she said. "I always carried a little pouch down here, even before I had babies. After two kids, well, let's just say that if I had ever wanted a third, it would have had a duplex in there."

  I slid my hands behind her and grabbed her ass. "What about this?" I said.

  "Wide load," Jesse said, and laughed. "I was a big girl, my friend."

  "Being big's not a crime," I said. "Kathy was on the larger side. I liked it just fine."

  "I didn't have a problem with it at the time," she said. "Body issues are foolish. On the other hand, I wouldn't trade now." She ran her hands over her body, provocatively. "I'm all sexy!" And with that, she did a little giggle and a head flip. I laughed.

  Jesse leaned forward and peered into my face. "I'm finding this cat's-eye thing incredibly fascinating," she said. "I wonder if they actually used cat DNA to make them. You know, spliced cat DNA with ours. I wouldn't mind being part cat."

  "I don't think it's really cat DNA," I said. "We're not exhibiting other catlike attributes."

  Jesse sat back up. "Like what?" she said.

  "Well," I said, and let my hands wander up to her breasts, "for one thing, male cats have barbs on their penis."

  "Get out," Jesse said.

  "No, it's true," I said. "It's the barbs that stimulate the female to ovulate. Look it up. Anyway, no barbs down there. I think you'd've noticed if there were."

  "That doesn't prove anything," Jesse said, and suddenly sent her back part back, and her forward part forward, to lie directly on top of me. She grinned salaciously. "It could be that we just haven't been doing it hard enough to make them pop out."

  "I'm sensing a challenge," I said.

  "I'm sensing something, too," she said, and wiggled.

  "What are you thinking about?" Jesse asked me, later.

  "I'm thinking about Kathy," I said, "and how often we'd lie around like we're doing now."

  "You mean, on the carpet," Jesse said, smiling.

  I bopped her gently on the head. "Not that part. Just lying around after sex, talking and enjoying each other's company. We were doing this the first time we talked about enlisting."

  "Why did you bring it up?" Jesse said.

  "I didn't," I said. "Kathy did. It was on my sixtieth birthday, and I was depressed about getting older. So she suggested that we sign up when the time came. I was a little surprised. We'd always been antimilitary. We protested the Subcontinential War, you know, when it wasn't exactly popular to do that."

  "Lots of people protested that war," Jesse said.

  "Yeah, but we really protested. Became a little bit of a joke about it in town, actually."

  "So how did she rationalize signing up with the Colonial Army?"

  "She said she wasn't against war or the military in a general sense, just that war and our military. She said that people have the right to defend themselves and that it was probably a nasty universe out there. And she said that beyond those noble reasons, we'd be young again to boot."

  "But you wouldn't be able to enlist together," Jesse said. "Unless you were the same age."

  "She was a year younger than me," I said. "And I did mention that to her—I said that if I joined the army, I'd be officially dead, we wouldn't be married anymore and who knows if we'd ever see each other again."

  "What did she say?"

  "She said these were technicalities. She'd find me again and drag me to the altar like she had before. And she would have, you know. She could be a bear about these things."

  Jesse propped herself up on her elbow and looked at me. "I'm sorry she's not here with you, John."

  I smiled. "It's all right," I said. "I just miss my wife from time to time, that's all."

  "I understand," Jesse said. "I miss my husband, too."

  I glanced over to her. "I thought he left you for a younger woman and then got food poisoning."

  "He did and he did, and he deserved to vomit his guts out," Jesse said. "I don't miss the man, really. But I miss having a husband. It's nice to have someone you know you're supposed to be with. It's nice to be married."

  "It's nice to be married," I agreed.

  Jesse snuggled up to me and draped an arm over my chest. "Of course, this is nice, too. It's been a while since I've done this."

  "Lie on a floor?"

  It was her turn to bop me. "No. Well, yes, actually. But more specifically, lie around after sex. Or have sex, for that matter. You don't want to know how long it's been since I've had it."

  "Sure I do."

  "Bastard. Eight years."

  "No wonder you jumped me the minute you saw me," I said.

  "You got that right," Jesse said. "You happened to be very conveniently located."

  "Location is everything, that's what my mother always told me."

  "You had a strange mother," Jesse said. "Yo, bitch, what time is it?"

  "What?" I said.

  "I'm talking to the voice in my head," she said.

  "Nice name you have for it," I said.

  "What did you name yours?"

  "Asshole."

  Jesse nodded. "Sounds about right. Well, the bitch tells me it's just after 1600. We have two hours until dinner. You know what that means?"

  "I don't know. I think four times is my limit, even when I'm young and superimproved."

  "Calm yourself. It means we have just enough time for a nap."

  "Should I grab a blanket?"

  "Don't be silly. Just because I had sex on the carpet doesn't mean I want to sleep on it. You've got an extra bunk. I'm going to use it."

  "So I'm going to have to nap alone?"

  "I'll make it up to you," Jesse said. "Remind me when I wake up."

  I did. She did.

  "God damn it," Thomas said as he sat down at the table, carrying a tray so piled with food that it was a miracle he could even lift it. "Aren't we all just too good-looking for words."

  He was right. The Old Farts had cleaned up amazingly well. Thomas and Harry and Alan could all have been male models; of the four of us, I was definitely the ugly duckling, and I looked—well, I looked good. As for the women, Jesse was stunning, Susan was even more so, and Maggie frankly looked like a goddess. It actually hurt to look at her.

  It hurt to look at all of us. In that good, dizzying sort of way. We all spent a few minutes just staring at each other. And it wasn't just us. As I scanned through the room, I couldn't find a single ugly human in it. It was pleasingl
y disturbing.

  "It's impossible," Harry said, suddenly, to me. I looked over at him. "I looked around, too," he said. "There's no way in hell all the people in this room all looked as good as they do now when they were originally this age."

  "Speak for yourself, Harry," Thomas said. "If anything, I do believe I am a shade less attractive than in my salad days."

  "You're the same color as a salad these days," Harry said. "And even if we excuse Doubtful Thomas over here—"

  "I'm going to cry all the way to a mirror," Thomas said.

  "—it's well nigh impossible that everyone is in the same basket. I guarantee you I did not look this good when I was twenty. I was fat. I had massive acne. I was already balding."

  "Stop it," Susan said. "I'm getting aroused."

  "And I'm trying to eat," said Thomas.

  "I can laugh about it now, because I look like this," Harry said, running his hand down his body, as if to present this year's model. "But the new me has very little to do with the old me, I'll tell you that."

  "You sound as if it bothers you," Alan said.

  "It does, a little," Harry admitted. "I mean, I'll take it. But when someone gives me a gift horse, I look it in the mouth. Why are we so good-looking?"

  "Good genes," Alan said.

  "Sure," Harry said. "But whose? Ours? Or something that they spliced out of a lab somewhere?"

  "We're just all in excellent shape now," Jesse said. "I was telling John that this body is in far better shape than my real one ever was."

  Maggie suddenly spoke up. "I say that, too," she said. "I say 'my real body' when I mean 'my old body.' It's as if this body isn't real to me yet."

  "It's real enough, sister," Susan said. "You still have to pee with it. I know."

  "This from the woman who criticized me for oversharing," Thomas said.

  "My point, because I did have one," Jesse said, "is that while they were toning up our bodies, they took some time to tone up the rest of us as well."

  "Agreed," Harry said. "But that's not telling us why they did it."

  "It's so we bond," Maggie said.

  Everyone stared. "Well, look who's coming out of her shell."

  "Bite me, Susan." Maggie said. Susan grinned. "Look, it's basic human psychology that we're inclined to like people who we find attractive. Moreover, everyone in this room, even us, are basically strangers to each other, and have few if any ties to bring us together in a short time. Making us all look good to each other is a way to promote bonding, or will be, once we start training."

  "I don't see how it's going to help the army if we're all too busy ogling each other to fight," Thomas said.

  "It's not about that," Maggie said. "Sexual attraction is just a side issue here. It's a matter of quickly instilling trust and devotion. People instinctively trust and want to help people they find attractive, regardless of sexual desire. It's why newscasters are always attractive. It's why attractive people don't have to work as hard in school."

  "But we're all attractive now," I said. "In the land of the incredibly attractive, the merely good-looking could be in trouble."

  "And even now, some of us look better than others," Thomas said. "Every time I look at Maggie, I feel like the oxygen is being sucked from the room. No offense, Maggie."

  "None taken," Maggie said. "The baseline here isn't each other as we are now, anyway. It's how we all appeared before. In the short term, that's reflexively the baseline we'll use, and a short-term advantage is all they'd be looking for anyway."

  "So you're saying that you don't feel oxygen-deprived when you look at me," Susan said to Thomas.

  "It's not meant to be an insult," Thomas said.

  "I'll remember that when I'm strangling you," Susan said. "Speaking of oxygen-deprived."

  "Stop flirting, you two," Alan said, and turned his attention to Maggie. "I think you're right about the attraction thing, but I think you're forgetting the one person we're supposed to be the most attracted to: ourselves. For better or worse, these bodies we're in are still alien to us. I mean, between the fact that I'm green and I've got a computer named 'Dipshit' in my head—" He stopped, and looked at us all. "What did you all name your BrainPals?"

  "Asshole," I said.

  "Bitch," Jesse said.

  "Dickwad," said Thomas.

  "Fuckhead," said Harry.

  "Satan," said Maggie.

  "Sweetie," said Susan. "Apparently, I'm the only one who likes my BrainPal."

  "More like you were the only one who wasn't disturbed by having a voice suddenly appear in your skull," Alan said. "But this is my point. Suddenly becoming young and having massive physical and mechanical changes takes a toll on one's psyche. Even if we're glad to be young again—and I know I am—we're still going to be alienated from our new selves. Making us look good to ourselves is one way to help us get 'settled in.'"

  "These are crafty people we're dealing with," Harry said with ominous finality.

  "Oh, lighten up, Harry," Jesse said, and gave him a little nudge. "You're the only person I know who would turn being young and sexy into a dark conspiracy."

  "You think I'm sexy?" Harry said.

  "You're dreamy, sweetheart," Jesse said, and batted her eyes dramatically at him.

  Harry cracked a goofy grin. "That's the first time this century anyone's said that to me. Okay, I'm sold."

  The man who stood in front of the theater full of recruits was a battle-tested veteran. Our BrainPals informed us that he'd been in the Colonial Defense Forces for fourteen years and had participated in several battles, the names of which meant nothing to us now, but no doubt would at some point in the future. This man had gone to new places, met new races and exterminated them on sight. He looked all of twenty-three years old.

  "Good evening, recruits," he began after we had all settled down. "I am Lieutenant Colonel Bryan Higgee, and for the remainder of your journey, I will be your commanding officer. As a practical matter, this means very little—between now and our arrival at Beta Pyxis III, one week from now, you will have only one command objective. However, it will serve to remind you that from this point forward, you are subject to Colonial Defense Forces rules and regulations. You have your new bodies now, and with those new bodies will come new responsibilities.

  "You may be wondering about your new bodies, as to what they can do, what stresses they can endure and how you can use them in the service of the Colonial Defense Forces. All these questions will be answered soon, as you begin your training on Beta Pyxis III. Right now, however, our main goal is simply for you to become comfortable in your new skins.

  "And so, for the remainder of your trip, here are your orders: Have fun."

  That brought up a murmur and some scattered laughter in the ranks. The idea of having fun being an order was amusingly counterintuitive. Lieutenant Colonel Higgee showed a mirthless grin.

  "I understand this appears to be an unusual order. Be that as it may, having fun with your new body is going to be the best way for you to get used to the new abilities you have. When you begin your training, top performance will be required of you from the very start. There will be no 'ramp-up'—there's no time for that. The universe is a dangerous place. Your training will be short and difficult. We can't afford to have you uncomfortable with your body.

  "Recruits, consider this next week as a bridge between your old lives and your new ones. In this time, which you will ultimately find all too brief, you can use these new bodies, designed for military use, to enjoy the pleasures you enjoyed as a civilian. You'll find the Henry Hudson is filled with recreations and activities you've loved on Earth. Use them. Enjoy them. Get used to working with your new bodies. Learn a little about their potential and see if you can divine their limits.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, we will meet again for a final briefing before you begin your training. Until then, have fun. I do not exaggerate when I say that while life in the Colonial Defense Forces has its rewards, this may be the last time you will be entirely ca
refree in your new bodies. I suggest you use this time wisely. I suggest you have fun. That is all; you're dismissed."

  We all went insane.

  Let's start, of course, with the sex. Everyone was doing it with everybody else, in more places on the ship than it is probably sensible to discuss. After the first day, in which it became clear that any semisecluded place was going to be used for enthusiastic humping, it became courteous to make a lot of noise as one moved about, to alert the conjugal that you were on your way in. Sometime during the second day it became general knowledge that I had a room to myself; I was besieged with pleas for access. They were summarily denied. I'd never operated a house of ill repute, and I wasn't about to start now. The only people who were going to fuck around in my room were me and any invited guests.

  There was only one of those. And it wasn't Jesse; it was Maggie, who, as it turned out, had had a thing for me even when I was wrinkled. After our briefing with Higgee, she more or less ambushed me at my door, which made me wonder if this was somehow standard operating procedure for post-change women. Regardless, she was great fun and, in private at least, not in the least retiring. It turned out that she had been a professor at Oberlin College. She taught philosophy of Eastern religions. She wrote six books on the subject. The things you learn about people.

  The other Old Farts also stuck to their own. Jesse paired up with Harry after our initial fling, while Alan, Tom and Susan worked out some arrangement with Tom in the center. It was good that Tom liked to eat a lot; he needed his strength.

  The ferocity at which the recruits went for sex undoubtedly appears unseemly from the outside, but it made perfect sense from where we stood (or lay, or were bent over upon). Take a group of people who generally have had little sex, due to lack of partners or declining health and libido, stuff them into brand-new young, attractive and highly functional bodies and then hurl them into space far away from anything they ever knew and everyone they ever loved. The combination of the three was a recipe for sex. We did it because we could, and because it beats being lonely.

  It's not the only thing we did, of course. Using these gorgeous new bodies only for sex would be like singing only one note. Our bodies were claimed to be new and improved, and we found it to be true in simple and surprising ways. Harry and I had to call off a Ping-Pong game when it became clear neither of us was going to win—not because we were both incompetent, but because our reflexes and hand-eye coordination made it damn near impossible to get the ball past the other guy. We volleyed for thirty minutes and would have gone longer if the Ping-Pong ball we were using hadn't cracked from the force of being hit at such tremendously high speeds. It was ridiculous. It was marvelous.