The Chronicles of Benjamin Jamison: Call Sign Reaper

by Thomas Wright

  They split up at the elevator. Andrea walked into her room and slipped out of her sundress. She lay on the bed and looked at the clock. She was going to sleep for about eight hours and then go out after dark.

  Ben looked around the barn. It was typical of barns built back on Earth hundreds of years ago. Anubis was very similar to Earth — 0.97 g and a 23.33 hour rotation around its sun. When they began colonizing this galaxy the ships were like arks. They brought people, animals, grain, farming equipment and building supplies. The government, wanting to do things different this time around, designated whole planets for a specific purpose. Anubis was an agricultural planet.

  The government wanted to ensure that all the planets would be able to have food. Even if a planet was inhabitable, that didn’t mean Earth crops would grow. Until they knew what they could adapt to, they had to have food. Other planets in the system were not prohibited from growing food’ they did in green houses, but it was a small percentage of what was needed to feed a planet with a growing population.

  Ben had chosen this planet for its lack of technology and hadn’t expected trouble to find him here, or at least not so soon. He had been arranging hay bales and plastic barrels as he thought about the recent changes to his plan and staying under the radar.

  He went back into the house and lifted his foot locker onto his shoulder and took it out to the barn. All his worldly possessions were inside. Sitting it down on top of a barrel, he opened the box. Inside, everything was neat and organized. He had a thermal suit folded perfectly. Lying on top of it was a manila envelope with some pictures in it. He didn’t have many. There were a couple from when he was growing up and one of him and his team before a mission standing on a loading ramp. He had some fingerless black leather gloves and a pair of black combat boots lying in the bottom. A combat katana lay across the length of the box with a strap to wear it across his back. The Tsuka and Tsuba were one molded piece of black textured FRN. The blade was folded steel and covered in a black Teflon coating. The Ha, or edge, was razor sharp.

  Ben had owned three other combat katanas during his four years in service. There always came a time when it was used for something other than what it was designed for and it was pretty much useless after that — a pry bar being the usual culprit.

  He removed the katana and the thermal suit and put them aside. He stripped out of all his clothes. He had spent four years showering with men and women and had no issues standing around nude in the barn. He just hoped Harold or Janet weren’t going to stick their head in the barn to see what he was doing. He looked at the scars on his body. There were lots of memories there. He lifted his hand to his temple and traced the scar that went to the base of his skull from behind his ear. His implants used to be there. Once he wasn’t government property anymore, they had removed them. The surgeon was really good. The scars on his head and brain were minimal and unlike some others, he came away with no brain damage. He ran his fingers through his hair. It has grown long in the ten months since his discharge. He didn’t shave every day now either. He would let it go two or three days before he picked up a razor. He wanted to blend in and this was part of his new persona. His body was tanned from working weekends on the farm.

  Ben put on the thermal suit. Socks, pants and boots came next. The belt, fighting knife and katana rounded out his workout clothes. He stepped back to the door and looked over his gym. He would start with stretching, then exercise reps at the different stations, then move to close quarter fighting drills. The stretching was harder than he thought it would be. What used to be a ten-minute routine took over an hour. He felt the burn of those muscles that hadn’t been taxed in months. The exercise made them burn even more, but at least there would be no damage. The exercise routine lasted another hour and 15 minutes. He stopped every 20 minutes to hydrate. The suit kept him regulated. It had fine metal threads woven in that constantly measured body temperature. The control panels were removable and had flat batteries that you could solar charge in the field. Everyone kept spare control panels stuck to the shoulder of their armor or helmet. This was the basic set. There were others for long-term use in specific climates.

  Ben had set the hay bales and barrels up in a 40 foot obstacle course. To most people the spacing just looked random, but to Ben it allowed him to practice different techniques and forms of various martial arts he had learned in the past fifteen years. He could accomplish the same thing in an empty barn, but he wanted to feel the resistance of something solid. Ben had learned to fight with a sword in his right hand and a knife in his left It was an intimate form of combat. He had put different items on each of the targets he would encounter. The object of the exercise was not to hit the hay bale or barrel but the items that lay on it or hung from it. He could only strike each station once before moving to the next one. Hit or miss, you had to keep moving, fast and hard.

  Ben made his first run through and it wasn’t pretty. His timing was off and he would end up too close or too far to make the perfect strike. His second run through was better, scoring hits on 75 percent of his targets. He would make one more before calling it quits for the day. He walked back through and fixed all his targets for his final run.

  Harold wondered if Ben was still working out or off sleeping on a stack of hay bales somewhere. He told Janet that he was going to go get him and tell him supper would be ready soon. Harold got to the barn door about the time Ben started his final run. He saw him sprint towards a stack of hay bales six feet high. Ben leapt in the air and pulled his katana out, swinging it in an angled downward stroke. Harold heard the blade swoosh through the air, burying itself into the hay bale. Ben had landed in a crouch dead still and drew his katana from the bale and combat knife from his left hip left-handed as he pivoted from the crouching position, driving the knife blade through the dangling flat washer and into the hay bale with a thump. Harold heard Ben hitting the hay bale hard. Harold continued to hear Ben moving through the maze and the sound of a blade hitting metal, followed by a thud or slicing sound as the katana blade entered the larger part of the target. He counted about 25 sounds as Ben worked his way through the maze.

  Ben saw Harold as he walked back to the beginning of his training course. The katana and knife were both back in their sheaths. His hands were free and shaking a little. Adrenaline was coursing through his blood. He stopped and sat down cross legged on the floor. Harold walked in and sat on a hay bale near where Ben was sitting. It was quiet and he could almost hear the wheels turning in the old man’s head. Harold finally broke the silence.

  “You have some skills, son,” he said.

  Ben didn’t reply. He sat with his eyes closed, breathing softly.

  “Is there anything me and the Mrs. should know?”

  “I’m not a mental case. if that makes you feel better.” Ben replied. “But there’s a lot of my past I can’t discuss with you.”

  “The reason for all this is the spacers Gus and I had a go with last night. They made some public threats against me and anyone who maybe my friend.”

  “And you are worried they may come here,” Harold said.

  “I can’t ignore the possibility, Pa. They may show up one night,” Ben said.

  He just sat there after that, not saying anything. Ben broke the silence and told Harold about the job offer. It wasn’t for sure yet, but either way he was going to put this thing with the spacers to rest before he did anything. The way Ben had said that left no doubt to Harold how it would be put to rest.

  “How about you get a shower and let’s eat some supper,” Harold said finally.

  Ben smiled and got up. He put his arm around the old man’s shoulders as they walked into the farm house.

  Chapter 4: I Told You So

  The spacers were all on their ship, sitting around a table. All of them except the big guy, Mike, had recovered enough to get around now. Captain Timz was standing at the end of the table. He was pissed at the major for lying to him. He knew the deal was too good. 10 K for going into a ba
r and roughing up some guy?

  When she bailed them out and warned him at the dock about further messing with the guy, he knew she knew beforehand how things might turn out. She was getting a pass only because he didn’t want a platoon of marines tracking them down and burying their remains on some god-forsaken rock. He still hated her though. The bartender, the waitress and the kid — they would pay extra for the ones who were getting a pass.

  “The ship is about loaded and we depart tomorrow. If we are going to get any revenge on these assholes we need to do it tonight,” Captain Timz said.

  There was a unanimous yell from the table. “There are plenty of farm fields to dump the bodies in outside of town,” the captain added. That statement didn’t get the “hell yea” he thought it deserved.

  “Cap, You talking about killing those people? I’m all for a good bar fight again but I ain’t no murderer,” Chip said.

  Jen and Smoke agreed with Chip. They all knew they operated in the gray area of the law, but there was no killing or raping like pirates did. “Let’s put it to a vote.” the captain said. “Majority rules. All in favor say aye.” Cap, Mike and Spaz, the skinny guy with the baggy clothes, said aye. Chip and Jen disagreed, and everyone turned to look at Smoke, the little guy with the towel burns on his neck.

  “C’mon Smoke, you have to vote,” the captain said.

  “Smoke, they tried to kill you. That old man was gonna strangle you dead,” Mike added. He hadn’t said anything during the whole meeting. He leaned towards the table and smacked Smoke in the back of the head, bouncing his head off the mess table. Smoke looked at Mike with watery eyes and Mike motioned with his head toward the captain.

  Smoke dropped his head again and said, “Aye Captain.”

  “Good.” The captain sounded pleased. He handed Spaz a key and asked him to unlock the weapons locker and pass them out. The captain hadn’t planned on Mike going with them. He wanted his vote but didn’t want him to go along and aggravate the broken leg. Mike argued that he could take a rifle, and if they put him in a high position he could provide cover fire. The captain reluctantly agreed and they started packing their hover truck.

  Ben carried his foot locker back to his room and laid his katana and knife on the bed. He would spend some time sharpening them before bed.

  Janet had made a roast chicken with potatoes and carrots. There was fresh bread and tea. Ben and Harold were unusually quiet tonight. There was always some kind of talk about farming and equipment and crops or some barber shop gossip about someone in town, but not tonight. She wondered if they had had an argument over something.

  They are big boys; they will work it out, she thought. Then she thought about that beautiful young woman who had come looking for him in the morning.

  “Ben, did you run into your friend Dawn today in town?” Ben looked at her, confused.

  “She stopped here before nine this morning looking for you. She said she had heard you were here on Anubis,” Janet said. “She was here only for a short time and wanted to look you up.”

  Harold perked up at the mention of the lovely young woman and waited to hear what Ben had to say. Ben needed to figure out this mystery quick.

  “I haven’t seen Dawn in years, Ma. How did she look?”

  Before Ma could answer, Harold said, “Ben my boy, she is exquisite.”

  Ben chuckled, thinking Harold was getting in hot water, but Ma just agreed with him. She went on to say how she had beautiful black hair and had a wonderful sundress on. Mystery solved, Ben thought. “I wish I could have caught up with her,” he said. “Maybe she will be back through here again.”

  “Son, you need to hire a ship and chase her down right this minute,” Harold told Ben.

  “Nah, I’m sure she’ll be around.”

  Andrea woke up right at sundown and changed into her thermal suit. She pulled on a pair of leather pants and her vest and slipped a boot knife into her boot. Her leather vest had electronics built into the collar that let her communicate with the hover car and her soldiers. When the elevator reached her floor, she exited and told the car to start, to unlock her door and to enter navigation coordinates to where she wanted it to go and land. When she was visiting the Vander Hoyts earlier that morning she had spotted a place to park her hover car in the field across from the farm where it wouldn’t be seen. She could leave the car and find a place where she could watch the house. She saw the spacers were still on planet. She didn’t know what Ben would be doing tonight, but she wasn’t going to leave those sweet old people unguarded.

  Ben got up from the table and started clearing dishes. This was his contribution to the evening meal. He would do the dishes then turn in for the night. He had not heard from Andrea yet, so he was going to get up early and go for a run then clean up barn.

  In his room, Ben stripped down to his boxers and lay on of his bed. He laid his katana and knife across his dresser. The window in his room faced the road that ran for miles out through farm country. The window was open and he was staring at the stars. He heard a sound in the distance, a soft whirring noise. He didn’t see any lights coming even though the sound was getting a little louder with each few seconds. He sat up on the bed and grabbed the chair that his clothes were hanging on. He dropped his boxers and put his thermal suit on, pulled on his black cargo pants, socks and boots, belted on his knife and katana and headed out the back door. He heard the hover vehicle pass in front of the house and continue on running dark. It sounded like it had changed directions and was flying down the hedge row that divided the two fields across the road. There was a brief increase in the noise as the hover craft landed, then it shut off.

  Ben ran outside to the barn, then made a break for the field on his side of the road. He was going to work his way across it then down the hedge row to where he thought the hover had landed. If it’s the spacers he would have no trouble finding them. He knew they wouldn’t be able to move quietly through the brush and field. He would try to get them all before they ever got to the road.

  He worked slowly and silently to the road. He dropped down and crawled across the road to the corner of the field and hedge row. He moved slowly, using what light he had from the night sky. He was beginning to wonder because it was too quiet. The spacers would have been cussing and tripping over things by now. He moved into the woods. Doing this made it even darker and there was more risk of making noise and giving himself away. But he wouldn’t walk past it that way.

  Ahead maybe 50 more feet he could make out the outline of the hover craft. It was a car. It was sitting on an angle, facing the farm house. Someone was on the other side of the car was standing, watching the farm. He moved quietly, trying to get a better look closing the gap. He recognized who it was.

  He crawled the remaining 20 feet and eased up slowly. He was about to say something when she spoke.

  “It’s so good of you to join me, Benjamin,” she said.

  Damnit, he thought. “What are you doing here, spying on me, Major?” he said out loud. “You couldn’t get enough of me earlier so you came out tonight for a little peep show?”

  She finally turned around. She was wearing a pair of fully loaded night vision thermal goggles. The lenses were blacked out so he couldn’t see her looking at him. She pulled the goggles off as she stepped around the front of the car and stopped six inches from his face.

  “What makes you so sure I was spying on you, Benjamin?”

  “Well Dawn, what or who else?”

  Her eyes flashed confusion at first, but only a second. She laughed softly. “So they told you someone came looking for you.”

  “Yes they did. I was a little confused at first until I asked them to tell me how my old friend Dawn looked. Once I got passed all the praise that I’m not going to tell you about so your big head doesn’t get any bigger, I got a description and knew it was you.”

  “Big head — big head!” she repeated. “Mine is no bigger than yours.” Her voice elevated a few decibels. Her cheeks got a rosy colo
r to them, even in the dark. Ben noticed her opening and closing her hands into fists and stepped back a step.

  “Oh no. You’re not going to knock me on my ass a second time,” Ben said.

  “Want to bet?” the major replied. She dropped and kicked his legs out from under him. His head bounced off the side of the car on his way down with a thump, then he hit the ground face first and didn’t move. She came straight up and took a step back, waiting for him to come at her. “Come on Ben. Get up,” she said.

  He lay there unmoving. “Get up!” she said with more force. He didn’t move a muscle.

  She moved forward and put her hand on his back. She could feel him breathing in and out. “Get up Ben. Quit laying in the dirt.” He didn’t move.

  She moved around by his head and felt to see if he had actually been hurt. There was a goose egg and it felt wet. Her fingers had blood on them when she looked.

  Ben was smiling on the inside. Yeah, his head hurt, but it wasn’t anything. He had played possum before and knew how to do it.

  “Ben, I’m sorry,” she said.

  He could hear actual concern in her voice. She kneeled behind him and rolled him over on his side, got her arms under him and lifted his head onto her lap. She pushed his hair off his face, took a bandana and held it to the cut on his head.

  “Come on Ben, wake up,” she said again. He could feel her hand moving across his face, tracing his jaw line. She turned his head slightly and touched the scar, tracing it down the side of his head to behind his ear. She ran her fingers through his hair. She liked the feel of it. She liked the three-day growth on him too. She had spent her life with clean-cut, high-and-tight jarheads, army grunts and navy spacers. Maybe that was the attraction here. He was the same as them, yet different.

  Major Andrea Andersen had not felt anything like this for a man in over five years. The last man she loved had died in combat trying to save some Trillond citizens from Allith raiders. She didn’t think she was in love, but there was definitely a good amount of attraction here.