It may have been an empty promise – or possibly very genuine – but Jeremy Hawthorne didn’t have that kind of influence… just yet. Whether or not he ever came to such a position remained to be seen. “I’d appreciate that, Jeremy.”
2423: Decisions
“There is no decision we can make that doesn’t come with some sort of balance or sacrifice.” – Simon Sinek
The setting sun was glorious, warm orange rays casting long shadows along the beach as it descended below the waves. There was a strong breeze blowing in from the south, carrying the aroma of salt, and sending a chill down Sarah’s neck that made her hair stand on end. Despite her frequent visits to this secluded spot, she still hated how cold she was.
Sarah Hunter had been coming here a lot over the last year, ever since she’d been posted to the field hospital – soon to become a permanent hospital – on the minor colony world of Menacor, population of almost 25,000. Despite being near the edge of the disputed territories, the world’s meagre defence forces had managed to repel two N’xin incursions, and was a hive of activity at the moment, with daily medical shuttles flying in and out, as well as a deluge of construction personnel struggling to expand the colony so it could cope with its exploding population of displaced souls.
There was a lot of uncertainty as to whether the colony on Menacor should remain, or be evacuated – not that there was actually anywhere for the inhabitants to flee to, these days, what with the outer colony worlds bursting at the seams from the number refugees running to safer worlds – but, for as long as Sarah was to be posted on this world, she would keep coming here to watch the sunsets.
“The sunsets are the only good things I remember about this place.”
Sarah smiled, her VA mirroring the gesture virtually for the avatar of her half-brother James, who was communicating to her all the way from Bastion – thanks to a sudden influx of investment in quantum communications infrastructure – including technologies from Elijah’s CAI – Menacor had instantaneous communication with nearly the whole Commonwealth, allowing such chats to occur on a frequent basis.
“They are pretty fantastic… and the only benefit I have to working here.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Sarah. You do good work. You save lives.”
“Such a cliché response, James, and you know how much I like those.” Sarah screwed her nose up. “But you’re right, I try to. This job isn’t as… helpful… as I thought it would be when I signed up.” Sarah sighed – that was such an understatement. Despite all their advances in medical science, and the near state-of-the-art facilities Menacor had access to, the mortality rate of the people who made it to Menacor was almost thirty percent.
In this day and age, even holographic patients would balk at those odds… Though a seventy percent chance is better than perpetual oblivion. The thought wasn’t all that reassuring, even for Sarah, who hadn’t seen any combat whatsoever outside of simulations. But given the conditions they were working under – with influxes of patients and a lack of proper infrastructure or time –the mortality rate wasn’t all that surprising, and was better than some other locations.
While advanced cybernetic systems could help keep people who were gravely injured alive – by accelerating the healing process – only half the population could afford the technology, and the systems themselves weren’t the most durable. Many of the patients Sarah had lost had died because their cybernetics had failed to cope with the damage to the body.
If we didn’t have cybernetics at all, the mortality rate would be closer to seventy percent, maybe even eighty. It was a very sobering – and terrifying – reality.
“How bad is it?”
“Could be worse, but I’ll spare you the details,” Sarah admitted bitterly, before she could check herself. The admiralty had made it clear that every soldier was to try and sell the message that the Commonwealth was winning this war – despite the fact that they clearly weren’t. Every time humanity hit out, the N’xin hit back just as hard… or harder.
“Mark isn’t all that happy that I’m not around these days – he even suggested that he up and move to Elysium to be closer to me, but I shot him down.” She sighed, remembering the hurt look on her husband’s face when she’d told him to remain behind on Bastion. “This is going to be a long war, James. And bloody.”
“So dad says. And so my mother says,” James murmured. “Her office has had to create a waiting list for patients wanting therapy… the government of Earth is offering to subsidize her practice if she’ll take on veterans or refugees, fleeing from the path of the N’xin advance.”
“Yeah, I’d heard they were doing that…” Sarah said. “How is Rebecca anyway? I haven’t really seen much of her since the divorce.”
Sarah had always liked James’ mother Rebecca, more than her first stepmother, Cassie, who had married Patrick in 2350, dying a year after Elijah had been born in 2355. Although Sarah – and Michael – had already left home and were making their own way in life when Rebecca had married Patrick, Sarah had appreciated Rebecca’s attempts to be something of a parental figure in their lives – despite the fact that the two women were almost the same age.
Something Cassie hadn’t wanted to be. Cassie had married Patrick Hunter when Sarah had been in her teens, but had not made any effort to bond with her stepchildren, and the elder Hunter children were nearly estranged from the stepmother when Cassie met an untimely end.
Sarah felt sorry for her half-brothers, Elijah and Elias, for not knowing their mother, but Sarah didn’t exactly miss Cassie, either. The woman had been hard to read, and her refusal to carry her own children to term had been a sore-point in the family, even in the years after her death. Should I be ashamed that I’m relieved she didn’t have a re-life policy?
“She’s fine, I guess, starting private practice on Earth soon so…”
“Isn’t she married to another shrink?”
“Dating would be more accurate, Sarah,” James corrected, smiling softly. “But yes, they’ve been going out for some time now…” His voice trailed off, as if he was contemplating saying something more, but no further words were forthcoming.
“What about you? How’s things?” Sarah asked, breaking the uneasy silence.
A concerned look flushed over James’ face, his eyes narrowing to slits. Instead of delving into the ritual small-talk, he seemed to decide to just delve straight into what had been haunting him for months.
Or years. “I’m talking to Jennifer tonight.”
“Does that mean you’ve made up your mind?”
His avatar nodded, his expression resolute, if regretful and bitter. “I think I have… Dad’s news, and your comment just now, kinda reinforced it… but my mind will be made up, depending on how you answer my next question.”
“Which is?”
James took a deep breath, deliberating how to phrase his question. “Do you regret signing up?”
Sarah paused, considering her answers. Despite not doing anywhere near the amount of good she’d thought she’d do, her talents as a surgeon certainly hadn’t been wasted, and she had saved countless lives in the last three years. She may not have felt as fulfilled as she may have expected when she’d decided to sign up in 2418 – against the objections of Mark, who, as a youth, had seen a bit of action against a group of pirates out on the fringes – but did she regret it? She didn’t think so. I think I would have regretted not joining more.
Of course, being separated from her family and friends was a continuing source of hardship but it was nothing she couldn’t handle – her work was considerably more important than anything she could do with her family; her children were all adults, after all, and would soon be starting their own families, and Mark – who had decided to remain married to her – had his own career to keep busy with.
Sufficed to say, her presence back on Bastion may have been missed, but it wasn’t needed. And so, Sarah had found a new purpose in life.
She took in another loo
k at the sunset, a faint smile playing at her lips as her spirits lifted at the sight. And here I am.
“No, I don’t. Not at all.”
James smiled ruefully. “Then my mind is made up.”
*
He’d actually left her. The son-of-a-bitch had actually gone through with it.
Alice Chamberlain took in the half-empty bedroom with a mixture of sadness and disdain, hands scratching frantically at the back of her head at a non-existent itch.
“You pissant,” she said to the emptiness that had been her heart. She’d known Arjun, her erstwhile fiancé, had been very restless lately, maybe even homesick for Madras, but to actually up and leave her… well, frankly, she didn’t think he’d had it in him. “Couldn’t even tell me in person.”
They’d been arguing a lot lately – almost daily, truth be told – and Alice would have been lying to herself if she hadn’t thought about leaving him… but she’d never have done this to him. Get all your things together while the other-half was at work and leave.
It was just so… so cowardly. Weren’t men meant to be brave? What was the use of having a macho image if you didn’t actually live up to it?
What stung the most was that she’d uprooted her life in Phoenix to move down here to Dallas… all for him, his career. She’d been warned not to – her mother and brother had both told her to stand her ground and stay in Arizona… But no, you had to go where your heart was.
She sighed, shaking her head as she went over to their – her – chest-of-drawers. Just as she’d thought: his clothes were gone, all of them, right down to the socks… and hers were strewn around… had he actually gone through her things? Paranoid fuck, she mused.
This isn’t working out. Those were the words he’d started his message with while she’d been on duty in the base’s labs, and – up until she’d walked in the front door of their apartment after her shift had ended – had passed it off as some sort of sick joke – albeit not a very funny one.
But alas, he’d taken all of his possessions. All of them, big or small, including the lounge suite – rather cheeky, considering she’d helped pay for it – and half of the kitchen utensils. She was half tempted to view the apartments virtual net, to see just who had been around to help him move out, but thought better of it.
It doesn’t matter, she thought. He was gone – that mattered. Even as she stood there, staring at the room bathed in the orange hue of the setting sun. Despite the warmth outside, it was remarkably cold in the apartment, with goosebumps winding their way up her arms and legs.
And good riddance, a voice in the back of her head said. It sounded just like her mother.
Which came as no surprise. Heather Chamberlain had always loathed her future son-in-law, tolerating his presence at family dinners for the sake of Alice. Her father, Robert, had at least tried to like her partner… he’d failed, but at least he’d made the effort. They’d probably throw a party when Alice told them the news.
Alice sighed, quietly surprised that she was as composed as she was – her eyes weren’t even close to being watery, and her heart, while feeling heavy, wasn’t broken like it had been when Hikaru had dumped her in high school – just days before the Prom, too. She’d been despondent for weeks after that, and not even sleeping with his brother had elevated her mood.
Only time – and a six-week European holiday – had allowed her to heal. She couldn’t afford that now, though.
She spun slowly around in a circle, taking in all the shattered fragments that were now what remained of her life. Without his income, she couldn’t stay here: the mortgage repayments would take nearly three-quarters of her weekly income as it was. Barely a graduate of the Naval academy, she wouldn’t be able to afford this place until she made the rank of lieutenant… at least.
“Guess I’ll just have to sell,” she announced, slamming the drawer to her underwear shut and leaning against it heavily. She’d probably stand to make a tidy profit on the apartment… of course, she’d have to split half of it with the deadbeat fiancé of hers, but it would be enough to start over, hopefully somewhere nicer.
The question was, where would she go? Living on her own was a daunting prospect – she hadn’t been independent in that sense since she was a sophomore… and she’d never really felt comfortable living in Dallas; she had few friends here. Returning to Phoenix was impossible at the present time, on account of her current posting…
“Fuck it,” she said blithely. “I should just volunteer for active service.” She laughed at the absurdity of the idea – when she’d enlisted in the Navy, it had been because it was the easiest way of earning a living while also getting her degree in Biochemistry. It had never been about actually defending the realm.
But even as she tried to laugh away the idea, the notion of having more balls than her spineless git of an ex appealed to her…
“Awww fuck it, what have I got to lose?”
*
“I’ve been meaning to talk with you.”
James and Jennifer laughed softly, both of them having said the same thing at the same time over glasses of champagne. They were on the rotating Sky Deck of the Hawking Tower, over a kilometre above the ground, most of the cityscape of the Citadel just a hazy, glittery jumble of moving neon lights.
“You go first,” James said, sipping from his champagne - Dom Pérignon, 2402, imported from Earth, with a price tag to reflect the distance travelled. “This dinner was your idea.”
Jennifer smiled sweetly at him. She was wearing her long, flowing hair in a tight bun on her head, thick locks framing her face perfectly as they dangled next to her eyes. She was wearing a dazzling scarlet dress, accessorising it with a matching handbag and shoes.
“Jim, we’ve been married for almost thirteen years now…”
“Is this going to be a Dear John speech?”
Jennifer stared blankly at him, and James waved his comment away. “Never mind. Go on.”
“I want to have a baby.” She paused a moment, probably trying to gauge his reaction, but James’ poker face was usually impregnable. “James, I want to start a family.”
James had been halfway to putting his champagne glass down, but froze when Jennifer had stopped speaking. Thirteen years of marriage, and neither of them had ever had a yearning for children – they’d agreed during their courtship that they’d wait until their careers were well established before they would reconsider the idea of children.
James knew most would consider their decision curious. James – indeed, all of the Hunter children – didn’t need to work a day in their life thanks to the family fortune. But the Hunter’s had always had a strong work ethic, and had, like their father, been strongly encouraged to contribute to the family business. Thus, every Hunter had a career – or, for the older siblings, careers – and each one of them was more than capable of supporting a family.
And yet, James and Troy, now in their forties, were bucking that trend. They had careers, but, like their eccentric brother Elias, had no children. Of course, Troy was talking about having one, but James suspected it would, like most things in Troy’s life, fall through when Troy got tired of the notion and moved onto something new and exciting.
“A baby?”
“Yes.”
Not what I wanted to hear, James thought, thinking back on how he’d imagined his conversation would go. He played for time by gazing around the dining room. A large circular room with a tall ceiling and mood-appropriate lighting, it had a central solid of imported marble that was encircled by the main bar, with service elevators to the kitchen below on the east and west walls, with pairs of customer elevators on the north and south walls.
“Are you okay with that, James? What are your thoughts?” Jennifer said sternly, arching an eyebrow, seemingly confused at his reluctance to engage on the subject. “We’re ready, James. We’re definitely rich enough, so money isn’t a problem. Our careers are on track and thriving…” She trailed off and sighed, slouching back into her
seat resignedly. “You don’t want kids, do you?”
James took a deep breath, steeling himself.
“It isn’t that, Jen… I do want kids, but… in the current climate, with the war going on…” he trailed off, choosing his words. Already that morning, news had come that another one of their colonies had been razed, marking the third colony the Commonwealth had lost since the war started – to say nothing of the more remote outposts that had disappeared. So far the death toll wasn’t catastrophic for the simple fact the Commonwealth was trying desperately to evacuate those in the N’xins’ path.
“The war is hundreds of lightyears away, James,” Jen said, a touch of plea in her voice. James cursed himself for not having bought up the issue of children earlier. “We’re in no danger here, and won’t be for years, if ever… probably.”
“I know that, Jen, but…” He heaved a sigh. “I actually wanted to see what you’d have to say about me signing up?”
“Signing up for what?” she said blankly. Then it dawned on her. “As in… fighting?”
“Yes.”
“In the military?”
“No, in the Boy Scouts,” James snapped, his voice dripping in sarcasm as his patience slipped at an awkward moment. He winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just… nervous. This isn’t easy for me.”
“Not exactly easy for me, either, y’know.” Jennifer scowled at him, her red lips thinning to the point that they almost disappeared. She folded her hands on the table in front of her – their appetizers were still being prepped, so the table was relatively free of clutter. “I had no idea you felt this strongly.”
James shrugged as he tried to formulate his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, ever since Sarah enlisted, at least. Dad says the war isn’t going well. We’re not exactly losing, but we’ve been fighting at a stalemate for more than a year now, apparently. Dad’s… sources… aren’t sure how much longer we can maintain the status quo.”
A Call to Arms Page 8
