Death Grid_Game of Valor
Page 5
“Look, let’s not make this any more difficult than it has to be.”
“Fine, then don’t.”
“You’re not making this easy.”
“Why should I?” My temper was starting to boil over.
“I thought we could be reasonable adults about this?” She paused. Then, in a poor attempt to cushion the blow. “I love you. I feel like you were the love of my life. I’m just not in—”
“Don’t say it.”
“I always want us to be friends. I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”
“Who is he?”
She feigned shock. “What?”
“Who are you seeing?”
“I’m not seeing anybody.”
“Bullshit. I know you. You don’t do single.”
There was another awkward pause.
Kayla sighed again. “You don’t know him.”
“How’d you meet?” I asked, trying to contain my rage.
After an unbearable pause, she said, “At work.”
I shook my head in disgust. “I’m the one who encouraged you to take that job, remember?”
“Yes, and I’m so glad you did. It’s been a great career move for me.”
“I see that.” My eyes blazed into her. “Who is it?”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters.”
She let out an annoyed sigh. “Gary.”
My brow lifted with surprise. “Gary? The fat-headed tool bag that I met at last year’s Christmas party?”
“He doesn’t have a fat head.”
“Yes. He does. And you seriously traded down.”
“I know you weren’t going to be mature about this. That’s why I didn’t tell you right away.”
“No. You just waited until the lowest point in my life.”
“There was never going to be a good time.”
“You know what? Fuck you. How’s that for staying friends?” I disconnected the call. I slammed my fist into the sheets, furious. Okay, so, maybe I wasn’t acting very mature at the moment, but I was pissed.
My eyes scanned the compartment and found Mad Dog. “Yo, bro! Count me in.”
14
There were always a few minutes during shift change where no one was paying attention to anything. Mad Dog and I left the berthing compartment and weaved through the maze of corridors. It wasn’t unusual to see patients out and about. Some of them were trying to build their strength, relearning how to walk. We made our way to a medical supply compartment.
“What exactly are we doing?” I asked as we hovered in front of the hatch.
“Getting you some legs,” Mad Dog said. He punched in an access code on the keypad, and the hatch slid open.
My eyes widened with surprise. “How did you do that?”
“The supply clerk owes me a favor.”
We slipped into the compartment before anyone took notice. There were racks and racks of medical devices. Crutches, wheelchairs, prosthetic limbs, bio-mechanical implants, gauze, bandages, latex gloves, bedpans, and just about anything else you could imagine a hospital ship would need.
My eyes fixed on seven pairs of exo-braces. “Those mother fuckers!”
Mad Dog grinned. “Sometimes you just need to take matters into your own hands.”
“You know, we could get in serious trouble.”
“What are they going to do, kick you out of the military?”
He had a point. “Yeah, but do you know what a dishonorable discharge does to your record? You can’t get a job. Employers take that shit seriously.”
“Do you think they’re really going to dishonorably discharge a wounded Silver Star recipient with a Purple Heart?”
I shrugged half-heartedly. He was probably right.
“Fuck them. That’s some seriously bad PR. Put that on a recruitment poster. War hero denied necessary medical devices, then dishonorably discharged. Trust me. They don’t want that headline.”
Mad Dog grabbed a brace and activated it. It stood on its own in standby mode. He helped me out of the chair and into the wearable robotic exoskeleton. As soon as I was in position, the brace automatically sized to fit. Lights flickered on the belt. Supports ran along the outside of my thigh, hinging at the knee, and ran down to the ankle. The device had platforms that supported my feet, and the buckles sized themselves to fit. The brace went through a boot cycle and paired with my neural implant. Once linked, I could operate the device by thought.
At least, that was the theory. But I hadn’t walked on my own in weeks. My brain had forgotten how. I struggled to move my leg, but it wouldn’t budge, even with the aid of the brace.
“Relax. It’s like riding a bike. It will come back to you.”
I took a deep breath and tried to take a step. Mad Dog held onto me, keeping me from toppling over. My leg still wouldn’t budge.
“You’re trying too hard.”
“I’m obviously not trying hard enough.” I strained to move. My face was turning red. “Maybe the link didn’t take?”
Mad Dog looked at the display panel on the belt. “It says it’s connected. I bet if there was a hot piece of ass across the compartment you could take a few steps.”
15
The brace’s boots clanked against the deck as I took my first step. A mix of surprise and elation washed over my face. I could hardly believe it. I took another awkward step as Mad Dog held onto my bicep, trying to stabilize me. I hollered with joy and thrust a clenched fist into the air in celebration. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
Each step came a little easier. Before I knew it, I had staggered across the compartment. Mad Dog had let go several paces back. I looked back over my shoulder, surprised to see that I had made it this far alone. He was grinning from ear to ear. So was I.
I turned around and walked back, this time with a more natural stride.
“See. Just like riding a bike,” Mad Dog said. “Are you ready to have some fun?”
“Hell yes!”
We pushed out of the compartment and strolled through the maze of corridors. I got the hang of the walker pretty quickly. Before long, my stride had normalized. It was amazing to have my mobility back, even if it was through an assistive device.
At the flight deck, transport ships and med-evac units were coming and going. The corpsmen were unloading a steady stream of wounded, ushering them across the flight deck on hover-stretchers. There were moans and cries and blood-soaked bandages.
The sight of the wounded made me furious. What were all these sacrifices for? To improve corporate profits? To meet shareholder expectations?
Mad Dog could see the distraught look in my eyes. “Come on. We need a break from the shit. They’ll be plenty of time to dwell on that later.”
“Is anybody else going?”
Mad Dog shook his head. “It’s just you and me.”
There was too much chaos on the flight deck for anyone to worry about us. We marched to a dropship perched on the deck. It was a UHM-770 NightHawk—the med-ecav version of the craft. A red and white cross was painted on the side of the vehicle.
The pilot leaned against the fuselage. He had a scowl on his face. “You boys are late.”
“Sue me. My boy had to learn how to walk again,” Mad Dog said. “You know. No big deal.”
The pilot rolled his eyes. He had seen so much carnage he didn’t seem to care anymore. “Look, I could get in a lot of trouble for this.”
“That’s why I paid you the big bucks,” Mad Dog said.
The pilot rolled his eyes again.
Mad Dog introduced me. The pilot’s name was Carl, but he went by his callsign, Knuckles. He had a narrow face and a large nose. His eyes were obscured by aviator sunglasses, and his dark hair barely poked through his flight helmet. He wore the standard olive drab flight suit. I’d seen corpses with more personality.
“Let’s quit jabbering and get the hell out of here?” Knuckles said.
Mad dog and I climbed in through
the side door of the Nighthawk. We buckled into our safety harnesses and the door slid shut behind us.
“How did you work this?” I asked.
“Everybody has a price.” Mad Dog smiled.
Knuckles went through a series of preflight checks. Before long he pulled back on the controls, and the craft lifted from the deck. The Nighthawk lumbered out of the flight deck and into the inky blackness of space.
It was maybe a five minute flight to Gemini station. The massive space station was the size of a burgeoning metropolis. It served as a port for interstellar transports and was a common destination for Marines on R&R. It had all the comforts of home. Bars, nightclubs, casinos, five-star luxury hotels, water parks, shopping districts—Gemini station even had its own sports teams. You could find anything you wanted there. And some things you didn’t.
Knuckles dropped us off on the flight deck and said he’d return to pick us up in four hours. If we weren’t waiting for him, he was going to leave without us. He had squeezed our little adventure in between med-evac runs to Kronos.
We snaked our way through the maze of passageways. Gemini station was bustling with activity. There was a mix of civilians, military personnel, and contractors. War was big business, and people came from all across the galaxy to profit from it in some way, shape, or form. War was better than any tourist attraction could ever hope to be. It wasn’t seasonal. It raged 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
The neon sign of Galaxy Girls flooded the corridor with pink and blue light. Music spilled into the hallway. I felt the deep bass pounding in my chest. I caught a glimpse of the action inside as Mad Dog and I waited in line. The place bristled with excitement and beautiful women.
The cover was $90 each just to step inside, but the view was certainly worth it. Mad Dog knew the bouncer, so we got in free.
16
Swaths of light cut across the stage. Fog billowed from machines. A thick haze hung in the air. Scantily clad women displayed their curves as they contorted themselves around chrome poles. Hips undulated in mesmerizing ways. Long legs, toned calves, and stiletto heals pranced across the stage. Either I had been in the jungle for too long, or these girls were the finest exotic beauties I had ever seen. Their smoldering good looks were enough to make my blood pressure rise and my IQ drop.
A waitress in a skimpy black miniskirt and fishnet stockings stopped by our table. “Can I get you boys anything?”
“J&B on the rocks,” I said.
“Same,” Mad Dog added.
The waitress smiled, spun around, and sauntered off. She had a nice saunter.
It didn’t take long before we were approached by two gorgeous women.
“Would you like some company?” the brunette asked.
“That’s why we’re here,” Mad Dog replied with a wide grin.
Within seconds, the brunette slinked into my lap and draped her arm around me. The blonde dropped into Mad Dog’s lap.
This girl was a stunner. She had ice blue eyes and raven black hair. Sculpted cheekbones and plush lips. She looked like something out of a magazine. My eyes soaked in her luscious form.
“I’m Destiny. That’s my friend Chardonnay. What’s your name?”
I had a hard time formulating sentences. I finally stammered, “Uh, John… John Archer.”
She smiled. It was almost diabolical. She knew the kind of power she had over men. “It’s nice to meet you, John. Are you on leave?”
“You could say that.” I paused. “Absent without leave might be more accurate.”
“Naughty, naughty.” Her tone was deliciously seductive.
“What’s your real name?” I asked.
She moved her face an inch back from mine and hesitated. A conflicted look filtered through her eyes. “How do you know Destiny is not my real name?” There was a playfully sassy tone in her voice.
I shot her a knowing look. “Right. And I suppose Chardonnay is her real name too?”
“I guess you don’t much look like a crazy stalker type,” she said, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed me.
“I’ve been trying to cut back.”
She giggled. “Evelyn.”
“I like that.”
“Thank you. You wouldn’t believe the crazies that we get in here.”
“I can imagine. You’re a performer. Performers get crazy fans. It goes with the territory. I used to play in a band… the insane things girls did to get back stage… And we weren’t even famous.”
“What do you play?”
“Guitar.”
“I’ve sworn off musicians. Its a good thing your a customer.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I don’t date customers. And you’re kinda cute.”
“Who said I’m a customer?” I teased.
“You’re in here, aren’t you?”
“I’m just here having a drink with a friend, taking in the view. I’m not buying anything.” I was trying to get a rise out of her.
She leaned in and whispered in my ear. Her hot breathy voice drove me insane. “So you’re saying you don’t want me to dance for you? And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”
She was very persuasive. She nibbled on my earlobe. The scent of her strawberry shampoo filled my nostrils. I didn’t need a nerve conductivity test to know my sacral nerves had been spared. She had my full attention.
Evelyn leaned back and unhooked her bra. She slipped the lacy thing off her shoulders and her perfect endowments bounced free. “Are you sure you don’t see anything you like?” she asked with a jiggle.
I swallowed hard. “I’m just worried about you. I don’t want you to get your heart broken.”
She arched an eyebrow at me.
“It’s true. I’ve dated exotic dancers before. I’m like a magnet. One dance, and you’ll be smitten. You won’t be able to get enough. Next thing you know, you’ll be calling me all the time.”
“Are you sure you’re not the one who’s going to get smitten?”
“Pickle, stop harassing the lady and get down to business.” He handed Evelyn a wad of cash. “Is that enough for the rest of the night?”
Evelyn flipped through the bills. “It’s more than enough to make him fall in love with me.” She smiled.
Mad Dog had a face full of Chardonnay’s breasts as she danced for him. His eyes were about to pop out of their sockets.
Evelyn whispered in my ear again. “Your friend gave me enough for a private room.”
She stood up, grabbed my hand, and pulled me out of the chair. She led me across the room to the stairs. I couldn’t peel my eyes off her assets. Her body was sheer perfection. Her hips swayed from side to side as she strutted toward the VIP rooms.
“Have fun, Pickle!” Mad Dog shouted with a lecherous grin plastered on his face.
A bouncer at the stairs lifted the velvet rope and let us pass. Red light illuminated the staircase. There was no mistaking what went on in the VIP rooms.
17
Galaxy Girls had a reputation as a place that you could indulge yourself in any fantasy if you had the money. Mad Dog had been very generous with his funds.
Evelyn took me into a room with a queen-size bed, a couple of chairs, and a large flat-panel display. It looked like a luxurious hotel room. But these rooms were rented by the hour.
“You’ve got a nice friend,” Evelyn said.
“Yeah. He’s a good guy.”
“He paid me really well.”
“He owed me a hundred bucks.”
“He gave me a lot more than a hundred bucks.”
“I think he feels guilty.”
“Why?”
I hesitated, not really wanting to relive the memory. It was still too fresh. “I saved his ass. But it didn’t work out so well for me.” I motioned to the brace.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“It is what it is.” I noticed I was saying that phrase a lot, mostly trying to persuade myself to accept my fate.
We stared at ea
ch other for an awkward moment.
Evelyn moved close. Her sultry eyes smoldered at me. She pressed her sensuous body against mine. She grabbed the back of my neck and pulled my head close. Her plush lips melted into mine.
I hadn’t been with a woman in months. I had almost forgotten how amazing the mere sensation of kissing a girl was.
Evelyn grabbed my hand and placed it on her supple breast. I caressed her perky nipples, and she moaned with pleasure. It was probably just an act, but it didn’t make her any less enticing.
My stomach fluttered with nerves, and I could feel my hormones surging.
She broke from our embrace and moved to a dresser. Her delicate hands opened a drawer and pulled out two neural rings. She stepped to me and placed one around my head, with the connector pads at my temples.
I had a quizzical look on my face. “What’s this for?”
“You didn’t think we were going to have real sex, did you?”
“No, of course not,” I stammered, thinking that was exactly why she had pulled me up here.
“I’m a performer, not a hooker.” She arched an eyebrow at me that let me know she was a tad insulted.
I shrugged, innocently. “I never said—”
“Have you ever had virtual sex before?”
“No. I’ve always been partial to the real thing myself.”
“Really?” Evelyn looked astonished.
“Really. Those neural rings are expensive.”
A devious grin curled on her lips. “A virtual virgin. I like it.”
She grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the bed. We fooled around for a few minutes in the real world. Then we both lay flat on the bed, and she activated our neural devices.
There was a blinding flash of light, and I felt a tingling sensation rush through my extremities, even my legs, as the neural device calibrated.
Suddenly, I was standing in a vast empty space with Evelyn. I looked down, and I was standing without the assistance of the exoskeleton. I could feel my legs and wiggle my toes. It was amazing.
“Hang on just a second,” I said. I took off running, sprinting in a wide circle around the virtual space.