Captain Conorado stood and extended his hand. “Better get a move on, Charlie, if you’re gonna meet the midnight shuttle.”
Once Bass had left, Conorado turned to Owen. “What do you think of this situation?” he asked the Woo.
“Skipper, if I had shoulders I’d shrug them. I don’t understand you humans. All your gods seem to be just like yourselves. Marines are always ordering your God around, ‘goddamn this, goddamn that.’ When we Woos give birth, no matter which one of us does it—we’re hermaphrodites, you know?—and who’s responsible, we all rejoice because it’s another tiny victory in the survival of our race. All your Lieutenant Bass has done is propagate.”
“Yeah,” Conorado replied, deep in thought, remembering his own salad days as an enlisted Marine. “Yeah,” he repeated. “‘Single men in barracks don’t turn into plaster saints.’”
“Aw, what the hell have I gone and gotten myself into?” Bass, back in his quarters, said aloud, shaking his head. But the Captain was right. He was going to have to settle this fast. He finished the bourbon in his glass and poured himself another generous shot.
He relit his Avo DCCLXXXVII, drew in the smoke, held it a moment, and then slowly let some out through his nostrils, then more through his mouth, savoring it. He sighed and regarded the glowing tip of his cigar. Yep, that’s what he’d do, make a clean breast of everything. Tell Katie about Comfort, tell her right now. Put Comfort up somewhere until he got back off this deployment and then marry her. That was just the way it was going to have to be.
He stood and picked up his cover. He’d catch the next shuttle to Bronnys and break the news to Katie. Then, if he was still alive, come back to Mainside and meet Comfort. “Shee-it,” he grimaced. He’d rather fight a battalion of Skinks with a hot butter knife than do this. He swallowed the bourbon. “‘Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more,’” he muttered.
“You dirty bastard!” Katie screamed. “You did what?”
“I promised the girl I’d marry her, but Katie, it was years ago, she never showed up here, she never told me she was pregnant, I met you—” He made a helpless gesture with one hand. Things were not going according to plan. But for the first time in his life Charlie Bass had no plan except to go hi-diddle-diddle, right up the middle.
Katie twisted Bass’s engagement ring off her finger and threw it at him. “Goddamn you, Bass! Take this fucking thing back! Everyone in Bronnys, everyone at Camp Ellis for God’s sakes—I was at your fucking promotion ceremony!—everyone thinks I’m your fiancée but you’re too fucking dumb or scared to set the date. They’re all waiting for that! The girls at Big Barb’s are already planning the reception for Chrissakes! Every time I go in there they ask me if we’ve set a date yet! But now you tell me about your squeeze from the past, from, where is it, some shithole—?”
“Kingdom, Katie. Look, everyone knows the story! Comfort nursed me back to health after I escaped from the Skinks! She saved my life. We—naturally we felt attracted to each other! We went through a lot back there!”
“Yeah. You went through a lot, you bastard,” Katie snarled. “You Marines, you fly all over Human Space, screwing every skirt you can get your hands on. You sure go through a lot of us, don’t you!” In Bass’s eyes, consumed as she was with anger, she had never looked more beautiful.
They were sitting in Katie’s apartment in Bronnoysund, the apartment Bass was renting for her, the place Katie thought would be their home once they were married. As angry as Katie was just then, Bass could not suppress the genuine love he felt for her. Her anger had infused her alabaster complexion and her dark auburn hair framed her face perfectly. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. Leonardo could not have done justice to such beauty. His love for Comfort still simmered, deep inside him somewhere, but Katie was here, now, and he could not deny how he felt about her. But duty was duty and he was not going to leave Comfort and his son in the lurch.
“Katie, I’m committed,” Bass said stubbornly. “You have to accept that. I did not plan this.”
Katie dabbed at her cheeks. “What are you going to tell everybody, Charlie? What the fuck am I going to tell everyone? Everyone thinks we’re engaged! Now we just tell ’em, ‘Sorry, it’s off. Something’s come up.’ How do you think that’ll set with the Brigadier, all your fellow officers, men of honor, I presume?” Her voice broke on the word honor, which she uttered like a curse.
“Not very well. But Katie, I just don’t have any choice. I made the promise to her and now I’m gonna have to live with it. What kinda guy would I be if I didn’t keep my promises? Well, I’m an officer of Marines, and I keep my promises.”
“Marine, Marine, Marine!” Katie shouted, “You’re married to the goddamned Corps, Lieutenant Bass! What do you need a woman for? You already got your family! Fuck you! Get out of my life!” Katie began to shiver. But then, “Charlie, Charlie, Charlie,” she moaned. “I gotta ‘live’ with it, too! So does Whatsername. And her boy. We all gotta ‘live’ with what you’ve done.” Katie began crying, hard. Bass leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “Get away from me!” she screamed. But suddenly she threw her arms around her man, weeping so violently she began to cough. “You’ve killed me, Charlie Bass, do you know that?” she gasped.
Bass held Katie tightly, his face buried in her hair. It smelled wonderful, that rich, dark, almost black, auburn hair. Sobs racked Katie’s small body. He could feel her tears running down inside his shirt and her body, warm against his, full of life and promise. “Katie, you’re not going to die and we are going to work this thing out. I promise, love, I mean it.”
They sat that way, clasping each other, for a long while. Eventually Katie stopped weeping, wiped her tears, and pushed Bass away. “When does this girl arrive?”
“Midnight tonight on the New Oslo shuttle.”
“Good.” Katie sniffed and brushed a hand through her hair. She began to transform before Bass’s astonished eyes, morphing from the raging virago, the bride jilted at the altar, into the old Katie Katanya, the strong, self-confident woman who was afraid of nothing or anybody, not even Big Barb. She was, in Bass’s eyes, the ideal candidate to be the wife of a Marine infantryman. “Coffee?” she asked. “It’s been on a while, Charlie, but I know you like it strong. And a steak. I have some in the cooler. We’ll need our energy tonight.”
“’We’? Uh, yeah, Katie, thanks. Are you, ah, gonna—?”
“Yes. I’m going with you.”
The way she said that, Bass knew there was no denying her. “Well, that’s fine, Katie, that’s fine,” he said aloud, but to himself he said, Fuck!
* * *
The suborbital flight from New Oslo landed at midnight. Coffee cups cooling in their hands, Bass and Katie waited impatiently in the terminal for the ground shuttle to unload the passengers. As he gazed across the tarmac, watching the shuttle draw nearer, the tension in the air reminded Bass of that desperate night on Elneal, when he and his handful of Marines lost in the Martac Waste waited for the Siad horsemen to charge their position. And then the knife fight with their leader—he couldn’t remember his name anymore—even that was a snap compared to what he was going through tonight. The shuttle bus pulled up to the terminal.
“What does she look like?” Katie asked.
“What?” Bass was still back on Elneal.
“I said, what does this Comfort look like, Charlie?”
“Taller than you, heavier than you, blonder than you.” He shrugged, his eyes glued to the passengers entering the gate. First a gaggle of businessmen bound for Bronnoysund staggered off, laughing, talking loudly, enjoying themselves, the effects of in-flight alcohol obvious. Next some grizzled merchant seamen headed back to their ships after a trip to the capital. Then no one emerged for a few minutes. Maybe she didn’t make it, Bass thought hopefully. Katie glanced up at him, the same conclusion evidently on her mind. Maybe this is all for nothing. Maybe she just stayed home, he told himself.
And then th
ere she was. Bass couldn’t believe it! Comfort looked just as he remembered her but now she stood there, a small valise in her arms, looking helplessly around the echoing terminal, and when her eyes fell at last on Charlie, her face broke into a radiant smile and she started forward. “Don’t just stand here,” Katie whispered.
Bass stepped forward. “Charles!” Comfort whispered and threw her arms around his neck.
Katie sized up her rival: Comfort’s hair, tied neatly behind her head in a bun, was as golden as the noonday sun and she had the bluest eyes Katie’d ever seen. She stood a head taller than Katie and was heavier, with an almost muscular physique that hinted at hard, heavy work. Her fingernails were clean but clipped short, the nails of a working woman. Her clothes were practical, comfortable for traveling; she wore no makeup, no jewelry that Katie could see; she radiated freshness, cleanliness, and wholesomeness. She both threatened and fascinated Katie Katanya.
Bass held Comfort out at arm’s length after a long embrace. “Comfy,” he croaked. Katie felt a powerful surge of jealousy. Charlie Bass really loved the woman and, goddammit, he was happy to see her again! Katie had the urge to step between them and say, “Hello there! I’m Charlie’s fiancée! How the fuck you doing?” but she couldn’t, not even in jealous, righteous anger. What was going on before her was just too intimate, too genuine, too private to be so rudely interrupted. Katie Katanya had led a hard life, endured many hard knocks and painful disappointments, and she was well acquainted with grief, but she was instinctively sensitive to other people’s feelings and could tell when emotions were genuine. What she was witnessing hurt her profoundly but there was nothing feigned about the couple’s display and she respected that. And she recognized it as precisely the way she and Charlie Bass felt about each other.
“Uh, well,” Bass said at last, “let’s get your baggage, Comfy—and oh, this”—he gestured at Katie—“is Katie Katanya, a friend of mine. Katie, Comfort Brattle,” he added quickly, snatching Comfort’s baggage ticket. “Be right back,” he called to them over his shoulder.
Comfort sized up the woman she already suspected was her rival for Bass’s affections. Katie Katanya was the most beautiful woman Comfort Brattle had ever seen. She resembled what Comfort thought a courtesan would look like: lithe, impeccably groomed, self-confident, experienced in the ways of the world and men. To Comfort, Katie presented the perfect combination of light and dark: auburn, almost black hair, brown eyes, alabaster complexion. In short, she was Comfort’s image of a woman of beauty, of a Salome or a Jezebel—Delilah!—temptresses she’d read about in the Bible all her life. And now here was one of them, right in front of her, in the flesh. Although Katie’s body was slim, not at all physically imposing, there was an aura about her that spoke of a powerful intelligence and will. Yet, strangely, Comfort felt herself attracted to the woman, instinctively aware that once the ice between them thawed, they could be friends despite their profound differences.
Katie just shook her head at Charlie’s retreating back, then held a hand out to Comfort. “I’m Charlie’s fiancée. Very pleased to meet you, Miss—Brattle, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Likewise, Miss—Katanya, isn’t it?”
Comfort’s hand was cool and strong, Katie’s warm and soft. Katie was surprised that Comfort showed no reaction to the announcement that she was Bass’s fiancée. “I understand you left your child at home.”
“Yes. Would you like to see a picture of him?” Comfort opened her valise and handed Katie a hologram of her son.
“Goddamn!” Katie couldn’t help exclaiming. “That’s the most perfect child I’ve ever seen!” She grinned. “Congratulations! He has Charlie’s eyes, doesn’t he?”
“Yes,” Comfort said smiling, “but my father thinks the eyes are mine and the ears Charles’s; the nose, too, see?” She liked the way Katie smiled.
“How old is he? Four, five?”
“Four, last September.”
“Why didn’t you bring him with you?”
Comfort shrugged. “Well, I think he’s too young for such a long trip and besides, well, I wanted to see Charles first, alone. See, well, you know? When will you marry?” she asked, changing the subject.
Katie was taken completely by surprise by the response. Had she been in Comfort’s place, she’d have flown into a towering rage. “Well, you know, the Thirty-fourth is deploying again. He doesn’t know when he’ll be back.” She left Comfort’s question unanswered.
Comfort smiled. “It’s all part of God’s plan,” she said.
“God’s—?”
“Yes, God’s plan. Nothing happens by chance.” Comfort smiled again, as if explaining the most elementary arithmetic problem to a dense child.
At that point Bass returned, carrying two bags. “Are these all you brought with you?”
“Yes. I—I didn’t plan on a long stay, Charles.” Comfort glanced guiltily at Katie and blushed.
“Let’s get a move on, ladies. I’ve got rooms for Comfort reserved at the Uppsala—”
“No. She’s staying with me,” Katie said in a voice that brooked no argument. “Cancel the hotel reservations. Come on!” She put a hand on Comfort’s shoulder. Eyes wide in surprise, Bass just stared at them for a moment. “Come on, Charles.” Katie emphasized his name, speaking over her shoulder, “It’s all part of God’s plan.”
“It’s small but it’s comfortable,” Katie announced as they entered her apartment, “and I want you to consider this your home while you’re here, Comfort. I’ll fix up a bed for you and you can unpack your bags in the morning.” She smiled. “Oh, it’s already morning. I mean later today, after you’ve had a chance to get some shut-eye.”
“Oh, I don’t feel a bit tired,” Comfort chirped.
Katie cast a penetrating glance at her and then at Bass. “Fine,” she grinned. “I work mostly at night myself.” She laughed. “Let’s have some coffee and sit around and talk for a while.”
They talked away the rest of the night. The conversation was mostly between the two women, formal at first but warmer and friendlier as the night dragged on. At one point Katie excused herself to use the toilet. Comfort leaned close to Bass and whispered, “When will you marry her, Charles? I like her. I think she deserves you.”
Bass was astonished. It took him a few seconds before he could form an answer. “We won’t. Not now, Comfy. I’m going to marry you. I promised. I want my son to have his father.”
Tears filled Comfort’s eyes. “Charles, I don’t care if you marry me or not! This is all my fault! I should have told you—”
“Why in the hell didn’t you?” Bass hissed. “Why didn’t you? Oh, shit, Comfy, if only—”
Comfort put a finger to Bass’s lips. “Don’t talk like that, Charles. Father asked the same question. He’ll be very disappointed if you don’t become his son-in-law. I guess I’ve disappointed just about everybody.” She smiled. “I did not tell you simply because I did not want to complicate your life—”
“‘Complicate’—”
“Charles, I love you, with or without a ring. I did not come all this way to accuse you, to force you into marriage. I came because I wanted to see you again, touch you again. I just want to know that you still love me and will love our son and give him your name. That’s enough for me. God forgives the repentant sinner, Charles. This sin is on me. I’ve asked Him for that forgiveness and I know He has granted it. I will have no fear standing before Him on Judgment Day. Charles, I came here to ask you to swear before God, right here, right now, that you love us and will never abandon us. That’s all I ask. Will you give me your hand and swear?”
Bass gave Comfort his hand. “I swear before God and all that is holy that I will always love you and never abandon you, no matter what. And by God, when this Marine makes a promise he fucking-A keeps it!”
Katie emerged from the bathroom at that point, wiping her hands on a towel. The tableau caused a surge of jealousy that took charge of her tongue. “So, my Bible-thumping country g
irl, what attracted a Marine like Charlie Bass to someone like you?”
“Well,” Comfort began in a small voice, “I’ve seen the Skinks up close and killed ’em.”
“With what?” Katie couldn’t help a smirk. “Your good looks?” It seemed ludicrous that the blue-eyed little mother was capable of any kind of violence.
“No, a Remchester 870 pump-shot rifle, the same one I used later on to kill one man and wound several others. That got me put into a concentration camp.” She rolled up her sleeve and displayed the laser-engraved number on her left forearm. “Number 9639. That was me. And while a prisoner I bit off a guard’s ear when she tried to put the moves on me. And then”—she shrugged—“I rammed a knife up into a guy’s soft palate. It went right through his lower jaw. He bled all over the place. Didn’t bother me much after that though.” She shrugged again. “So, I guess Charlie was attracted to me ’cause, well, I’m predictable.”
Comfort delivered this little speech in a normal tone of voice, face expressionless.
“Well,” Katie said, swallowing, “the bravest thing I ever did was I pissed in Charlie’s beer when he wasn’t looking.”
Charlie Bass could only gape in silent astonishment at the two women, before replying, “Best beer I ever drank.” He smiled weakly.
Comfort and Katie glared fiercely at each other for about ten seconds—and then both of them burst into laughter. Katie stepped forward and gently embraced Comfort. “I think we’ll get along just fine.” Still laughing, she glanced sideways up at Bass. “Bring your son out here too and he can stay with us. I love company.”
Bass grinned stupidly at the two women and then said, “It’s true. All those things Comfort said she did? She really did all that. She really skewered old Domic de Tomas with that knife,” he said with a chuckle.
Dawn was breaking over Bronnoysund. “I better get back to base. Lots of things doing today. You know how it is when we get ready to deploy.” He nodded at Katie.
David Sherman & Dan Cragg - [Starfist 14] Page 10
