Homeguard

by Jason Cordova

  “God, no.” Malachi chuckled. “I’d never allow this paint scheme within fifty feet of my base. No, we’re at a hospital in Lares. Queen of the Valley Hospital, actually.”

  “That makes much more sense,” Christine commented. The faint memory of a frantic ambulance ride into town came to mind. They must have given her something for the pain. Everything she could remember had a hazy, dream-like quality to it. The baby hiccupped, and she quickly looked down, worried she might have woken him up. Seeing that he was still asleep, she continued, “Did they say when we can leave?”

  “They’ve already started the paperwork,” Wil said. “Congrats, Mom. How does it feel?”

  “Amazing,” she whispered as she looked back down at her child. Her child. Despite the fact that she was utterly exhausted, she was prepared to fight the entire universe to protect the tiny bundle on her chest. The baby yawned again and opened his eyes to look up at her. Bright blue, a sharp contrast to his father’s, and closer to her own. Deep in those eyes was a level of trust she’d never believed possible. Christine felt a moment of panic as she realized the little being relied wholly upon her to protect him from everything. There was no doubt in his expression, no fear. Only trust and love. She looked back up at the men in the room. “Terrifying. He needs me. I’m responsible for protecting him, and…I don’t know. There’s an intense high just knowing this amazing little baby is something I made. It also scares the shit out of me.”

  “I remember my wife trying to explain that to me when Kevin was born,” Joel chimed in. “She laid there for ten minutes and stared at him. I started to wonder if labor had broken her.”

  “I’m glad to see you’re okay.” Malachi nodded. There was a quiet tap on the door, and a nurse walked in, datapad in hand. She looked at the three men for a moment. Confusion crossed her face as she recognized the commandant of the Wraith Corps before turning her attention to Christine.

  “Everything is good to go, Ms. Cobb,” the nurse said. Christine blinked for a moment until she recalled that the forged ID card had her listed as Jane Cobb.

  “Thank you,” Christine replied. “Was there any problem with my payment?”

  “Well, due to an ancient law the commandant reminded us of, your bill has been sent off to the Department of War,” the nurse replied.

  “Huh?” Christine asked, confused.

  “During a time of war, any woman giving birth to a live child on a military base qualifies for complete coverage by the Department of War, per the Justice of the Service,” the nurse quoted as she looked at Malachi with irritation. He returned the look with a beaming smile. She held out the datapad to Christine. “I just need your digital signature and a fingerprint scan to confirm.”

  “I’ll handle that,” Malachi said, quickly stepping forward. The nurse’s lips narrowed, but instead of arguing with the former sangre princeps of the Dominion, she passed it to him. Malachi quickly scribbled with his pointer finger and submitted his thumb print for scanning before handing it back. He smiled. “This way, if the Justice’s bookkeepers get angsty about it, I’ll just shuffle the bill to the Corps and let his bookkeepers fight with mine. Spoiler: mine fight dirty and never back down.”

  “Uh, very well,” the nurse stated, obviously confused. She looked back at Christine. “One of our orderlies will be up shortly with a wheelchair to assist you down. Do you have transportation available, or should we summon someone?”

  “She can ride with us,” Joel stated. “We’re all going back to MITC anyway.”

  “Very well.” The nurse nodded and smiled at Christine. “Again, congratulations, Ms. Cobb.”

  As the nurse left, Christine looked back down at the beautiful bundle of love in her arms. He squirmed slightly and started to fuss softly. Christine shifted him gently and looked around the room at the gathered men. She smirked.

  “One of you needs to find my clothes, or you’ll have to deal with me dressed like this for the ride back to the base,” she said. The three men went in different directions, with Joel quickly finding her clothes, while Wil ducked outside, embarrassed. Malachi paused for the briefest of moments before he followed the young technician out the door, leaving her alone with Joel.

  “Want me to take him for a moment?” Joel offered. Christine looked up at him, then back down at her baby, before deciding it would be easier for her to get dressed using both hands. Plus, she could assuage the slight guilt she was feeling about keeping the baby’s father a secret. This was her child’s grandfather, after all. She could trust him.

  Joel carefully scooped up her child, and Christine slid out of the hospital bed. Maternity ward beds were designed for comfort, since giving birth was an exhausting experience, but it was still difficult for the young agent. Christine hadn’t anticipated just how exhausted she would be. Clinging to the bed for a moment, she saw Joel turn away out of the corner of her eye. Appreciating the privacy, she put on the clean underwear and loose sweats someone had found back at the base. She chuckled mirthlessly. Outside of her blouse and slip-on shoes, the clothes she’d been wearing before were probably ruined.

  Dressed, she found her slip-ons in a small cabinet near the bed. Getting them on was easier than the sweats. She sighed and winced a little from the pain in her abdominal muscles. Rubbing her stomach to slow the twitching, she turned and watched Joel for a moment. It was a touching sight, one she wished Andrew could see.

  The patriarch of the Espinoza family was looking down at the baby with such a confused and wondering look on his face, Christine almost told him he was his grandchild. It was only through sheer determination that she didn’t. It wasn’t time for all secrets to be out in the open yet. Perhaps when they returned to MITC, she’d tell him.

  I’ll tell him as soon as it’s feasible, and I’m no longer in danger, she decided. Christine didn’t know who was listening, or if anybody cared about a single mother giving birth in a hospital, but she knew Malachi’s presence had drawn attention. Odds were good that at least one DIB agent was prowling about, trying to see why the elusive bastard half-brother of the deceased emperor was helping a single mother.

  “I’m ready,” she said, and Joel looked at her, momentarily confused, before he offered a smile. Joel carefully passed Christine her infant and stepped back.

  “Sorry, been awhile,” Joel said. “My eldest son has kids. So…seven years since I last held an infant? It’s been a bit longer since I held one less than a day old, though. I remember the look on Gabriel’s face when he stared at me for the first time…”

  Christine was definitely telling him, but not immediately. She needed to talk to someone about it first. Who, she wasn’t yet certain. An announcement like this could cause Joel to forget his mission to protect his grandchild. While Christine could appreciate that, she also knew whatever Joel was doing for Malachi was vitally important to the preservation of the Dominion.

  Doublechecking the blanket they’d swaddled her baby in, Christine glanced back up at Joel and grinned. She felt euphoric and utterly drained. Somehow, the combination didn’t feel too weird. If she’d had time to reflect, perhaps. Until that time, though, she would continue to ride the euphoric exhaustion train and see just how far it would take her.

  Malachi chose that moment to poke his head back into the room. “It’s not safe for a newborn to travel through a jump gate, so I’m offering you refuge at MITC until you’re ready to move on.”

  “Thank you.” Christine nodded, alarmed. She had forgotten about the inherent dangers of traveling through a jump gate for infants, newborns in particular. It had something to do with the event horizon created by the charged wave particles the jump gates created, if she remembered correctly. It messed with the infant’s psyche, which was in a rapid development state. Something close to twenty percent of infants were affected, which were high enough odds for the Dominion to pass a law prohibiting jump gate travel for any infant under one month of age. Rumor had it the afflicted children had been taken to a psychiatric hospital on Vi
tae for help. It was more humane, many had said. Christine had agreed.

  “In the meantime, you’re going to want to up your normal caloric intake,” Joel said as they exited the room and met an orderly with a wheelchair just outside. He, too, gave the commandant a strange look but said nothing as, with Joel’s help, Christine situated herself in the chair. The baby didn’t make a peep, and Christine was thankful that he seemed to be, so far, a quiet baby.

  Maybe this is nature’s way of telling me to have more, she privately thought. Suddenly her mom’s voice came into her head.

  “An easy baby is just Mother Nature trying to trick you into having more, because the next one will be Satan incarnate,” her mother had told her after Christine had asked for a little brother. It took her a while to realize she had been the quiet baby, and her mom didn’t want to tempt fate.

  Christine giggled a little at the memory. She hadn’t been home in years. It dawned on her that she should check in on her parents, especially since it was public knowledge that Christine Dai was a traitor and still had a warrant out for her arrest.

  No, she decided as they entered an elevator tube and traveled quickly down to the first floor. Deebs are probably monitoring their comm lines. Yeah, it’s been a while, but every DIB agent I know or have worked with is a persistent little tick.

  Wil, who’d gone ahead while she’d been getting dressed, pulled up to the front entrance of the hospital in an armored troop transport. Christine looked up at Malachi, who shrugged.

  “It’s not like we have many personal vehicles on the base,” he explained, “and Wraith suits don’t need transports, so we have armored troop transports for those times we train in the field without suits. Which are, admittedly, rare. That is why we get whatever the marines discard when a new generation of equipment arrives.”

  “I hope it’s more comfortable than it looks.” Christine eyed the massive vehicle warily.

  The large, gray vehicle stood over four meters high, with a small ladder next to the passenger side front door for “easy” access. Besides the front wheels, used in steering, there were four more in the rear to help support the weight. There were no windows in the back, and Christine felt like she was about to head into a war. She stole another look at Malachi, who appeared rather sheepish.

  “This one is a little customized inside,” he said. True to his word, the vehicle hissed suddenly and dropped almost half a meter, courtesy of the transport’s hydraulic system. The ladder became much more accessible than before. It extended out and flattened a bit, creating steps instead of narrow rungs. A second, hidden door opened outward opposite the front one. Malachi continued, “I mean, this is my vehicle, and I’m going to be comfortable traveling around. And my wife would never let me sleep if I forced her to ride in something less then luxurious. I might not be the blood prince anymore, but sometimes…it’s good to be royalty.”

  Christine couldn’t argue. “Do you have a spare room on the base?”

  “We got you a private apartment,” Malachi countered. His smile was wide. “We often get fancy politicians demanding the nines. Instead of forcing them to sleep with the Imperfects, we assign them suites according to their titles in Parliament. Lords and such in the Upper House? They get one of the Prime Minster Suites. Representative? A luxury suite. Aide to either of the above? Well, we have a few other nice rooms available. But then…then there’s the Emperor’s Suite.”

  “Never heard of it,” she admitted. Christine was vaguely familiar with the others, having scouted them out electronically to see who was abusing the system. It was usually a cursory check, however. Most lords and ladies didn’t want to be around the filthy Imperfects, while representatives typically only spent a day or two before leaving, curiosity sated.

  “That’s because my dear brother only visited once a year,” Malachi explained, “on my birthday. He’d visit and stay for five days, and we could…be brothers again. Not emperor and subject, but how we were when we were kids. Usually ended up with us arguing about who was cheating at Bolajuego, but at least our bond remained.”

  Christine heard the sadness, as well as the bitterness, in his voice. She recognized the hurt. Nobody liked losing family members, and it was especially difficult when they died long before their time. Gently, she reached out and touched his hand. Startled, he looked down at her. Christine smiled kindly.

  “I’m sorry,” Christine told him.

  “I am, too,” Malachi replied. “I’m sorry my brother caused all…this. I just wish his death had meant something more. Hell, or that he hadn’t died at all. Stupid…I don’t know who sent him into the Westerway Fallmarsh Cathedral. It’s not nearly as defensible as Gran Via. It let the rebels get to him.”

  Secrets. Christine knew something about those. She hadn’t shared with anybody else the true reason Emperor Solomon IV had died. The bond between Joel and Malachi was great, too great to be torn apart by other people’s fears and concerns. The fact that the emperor had ordered Joel’s eldest son killed, and his youngest had murdered him in return, would stay between Andrew, Gabriel, and her. Nobody else needed to know. It would die with the trio and remain a mystery until the end of time.

  Besides, everyone on Trono del Terra was more than happy with the idea of the rebels of Maelstrom taking the blame for the ill-fated attack on the Dominion’s capital world.

  “Up you go,” Joel said as he offered her a hand. She gratefully accepted and got out of the wheelchair and onto her feet without difficulty. Checking the baby and realizing she was going to have to call him something else sooner or later, she gingerly climbed into the transport’s front seat. Malachi and Joel clambered into the back, and the doors closed automatically.

  Christine leaned back and closed her eyes as Wil pulled the vehicle away from the entrance of the hospital and onto the street. Traffic was light, which surprised her, until she realized it was barely six in the morning. She asked Malachi about the hour and her early release from the hospital, which made him laugh a little.

  “I have a little pull at the hospital,” he told her, “since it has my grandfather’s name on it. With some encouragement, the obstetrician on duty decided he didn’t need to wait for the next shift’s doctor to come in to discharge you. There was no reason for you to stay if there weren’t any medical issues, and you’ll probably get more rest in your apartment at MITC.”

  She didn’t doubt that. The last time she’d been in the hospital, she’d slept for days after getting out. This brought up a thought. “Malachi, did they draw blood or anything while I was there?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” he replied. “I know what you’re thinking. They didn’t even fingerprint you, as you may have noticed. No, I’m pretty certain they didn’t.”

  “They didn’t, though they did run a background check on Jane Cobb, since it’s not a common name,” Wil chimed in as they left the city and drove toward MITC. Everyone looked at the young technician, shocked. “Yeah, I was bored, so I built an elaborate digital background for her identity, then hijacked the electronic request they sent to the DIB. That was easy. I have it set up for a timed response, which the hospital will get at around two this afternoon, local time. They’ll discover she’s a simple woman of humble origins who happened to be on the planet when her premature labor began. End of story. Nobody will ask any more questions. If anybody looks for her later, we’ll have another cover for her to use, and Jane Cobb will have disappeared. We both have several to spare.”

  “Damn, kid,” Joel whistled. “You think like a Monk.”

  “Given the impurity of my thoughts, I highly doubt that,” Wil replied. Joel chuckled and shook his head.

  “Not that kind of monk,” he replied.

  The rest of the drive was completed in silence, which gave Christine time to think and plan. She knew someone, somewhere, would eventually ask about the disappearance of Jane Cobb. With the technological capabilities these days, it was damn near impossible for a digital cover to stay good for long. It wa
s one of the things they’d gone over at the Academy, and something she and Andrew had spoken about at length before she’d left for her assignment on Megiddo Orbital Station. The surprise reunion with Wil had cast serious doubts about how long any cover could last now. With the continuing advancements in facial recognition software, it was only a matter of time before every agent would be required to receive a nanite treatment like Andrew had.

  It was more effective than a slapped-together cover identity, she admitted to herself. If not for the high cost of nanite treatments, they would be given to every DIB agent who worked in the field. As far as she knew, only Jericho agents and a select few DIA agents on Earth and other worlds of the Caliphate received them. They were that expensive.

  It was something else for her to dwell on while considering the rebirth of Jericho. Technically, Jericho had failed its mission. It hadn’t uncovered what was to come between the princes. While the threat had been due to their father’s fears and the emperor killing his daughter by mistake, it still stung that nobody in Jericho, not even Chief Gan, had seen it coming.

  No, that’s not true. She thought back to something Andrew had said a long time before. He’d seen something coming, though not precisely what. Nobody could’ve predicted the death of Crown Princess Katherine at the hands of her father. A rogue assassin, perhaps. It was part of the reason her security had been tight.

  “Fear makes people do stupid things,” Andrew had told her. “Irrational things. Gabriel’s afraid he’ll never know what happened to Sophie. It drove him to hijack a ship and fly into the middle of an occupied world without backup. Imagine if someone with far more power than he were to do irrational things because they were ruled by fear.”

  Christine hadn’t known what to think, partly because they were about to exit their final jump gate before Ptolemy, and she had to be prepared for a fight. Mostly, it was because her upbringing and background prohibited her from considering that someone with great power could be ruled by fear. Power was power, a younger Christine had always believed. The ruling elite didn’t need to fear, because they were in charge.