“You’ve done enough, one would think,” Fiona Caesius said. Their mother stepped into the room, carrying a large bowl of stew. “They have yet to find respectable careers - or husbands.”
Mandy and Mindy exchanged glances. Of the four of them, Fiona had taken exile the hardest. She had no useful skills on Avalon, nor did she have the time to learn anything that would allow her to find a proper job. The older woman wanted to return to Earth, to the life she’d led as the wife of a successful professor, not stay on Avalon and make the best of her new circumstances. And yet, that was simply not an option.
“They do have respectable careers,” their father said. He motioned for the girls to sit down. “And they don’t have to be bound by earthly laws.”
“The military,” their mother said. “It’s a pit for losers, not for my children!”
Mandy felt her temper flare. Her mother had always talked down to her, something that had provoked more than a few nasty fights. But now ... now she thought she understood what drove the elder woman. Fiona would never be able to accomplish anything on her own, not now. She’d been dependent on her husband - and the state - for far too long.
“It's a respectable career,” she said, quickly. “And I earn more than father does.”
“And I defend people who need defending,” Mindy added. “Without the military, Mom, you’d be dead.”
“I would have stayed on Earth,” Fiona said.
“And died when the planet fell,” Mandy said. Even if the stories and rumours were exaggerated, she couldn't imagine her mother surviving for long. She was no survivor to endure when the world fell apart around her. “It would have been the end.”
Their father held up a hand. “Enough,” he said. “It’s rare for the four of us to sit around a table, certainly now that you two are adults. Let us not spoil it by bickering.”
“She started it,” Mindy muttered.
Mandy cleared her throat as her father ladled out the stew. “How is the university coming along, dad?”
“Slowly,” her father said. “Everyone wants to learn how to build and maintain FTL drives, not study history and law. It's quite frustrating at times.”
“At least they’re not wasting their time,” Mandy said. She knew from bitter experience that most of what she’d learned in school was useless. Children on Avalon learned so much more before entering their second decade. “What can we do with history?”
Her father jabbed a finger at her. “Don't you study the tactics of the past so you can prepare for the future?”
Mandy nodded, conceding the point. “But that’s practical,” she insisted. “History is rather less practical.”
“Now you’ve set him off,” Mindy muttered.
“History teaches lessons,” her father said. “Far too many of the mistakes the Empire made could have been avoided, if it had studied its own history. Instead, it repeated the same mistakes over and over again.”
He looked, just for a moment, old enough to recall the Unification Wars and the First Emperor. Mandy shuddered, inwardly. It couldn't be easy to learn the mistakes of the past, then watch helplessly as current generations repeated them. Perhaps it was why her father had written his book, even though it had cost him everything. He’d wanted - needed - to warn the universe about the decline and coming collapse of civilisation. But it had been too late to avert the final plunge into catastrophe.
“Those lessons have to be learned,” her father added. “There is nothing new under the sun, not really. Human nature doesn't change.”
“Enough of such gloomy talk,” Fiona insisted. “Mandy, why haven't you brought a nice boy home yet?”
Mandy felt her cheeks heat. “I’m really too busy, mother,” she said. “There hasn't been time to find someone, really.”
Fiona pointed a finger at her. “You’ve already ruined your looks,” she said, darkly. “What will you do when you’re too old to attract a nice boy?”
“I’ll survive,” Mandy said. After everything she’d been through on the pirate ship, she was damned if she was interested in anyone. A life lived alone was quite an attractive prospect in so many ways. “I am not defined by the person I marry.”
“But you’ll need someone who can protect you,” her mother wittered. “Not someone who’ll dump you the moment you turn ugly.”
Mandy bit down on her temper, hard. The hell of it was that her mother would have had a point, on Earth. They might not have lived in the Undercity, but even middle-class girls ran terrifying risks if they walked around without protection. She'd been lucky, really; she’d never really appreciated how she’d suffered until she’d been exiled to Avalon. Training girls to resist rape, with lethal force if necessary, was far more effective than telling idiots not to rape. But Earth had never wanted to put weapons in the hands of people who might turn them against the government.
“I carry a gun, mother,” she said, tartly. Jasmine had taught her, once Mandy had taken her head out of her ass. “And I can use it, too.”
Her mother’s mouth opened wide.
“She’s only joking,” Mindy said. She gave Mandy a sharp look. “I’ve had dozens of boyfriends, but none of them wanted to stay around.”
“You gave it up too quickly,” Fiona said. She seemed to have forgotten Mandy’s last comment entirely. “You have to get a man invested in you before you give it up, or he’ll go away.”
Mandy sighed. “We’re not looking for husbands, mother,” she said. She took a bite of her stew, wondering just who had cooked it. Her mother couldn't even begin to cook anything more complex than pre-packaged food. “We have careers and lives and the chance to do something important.”
“Quite right,” their father said. “There are other things in life than being married.”
“Says the man,” Fiona said. “It’s not so easy if you’re a woman.”
“Jasmine manages it,” Mandy said. “And so does Gaby Cracker.”
Their mother snorted rudely, but said nothing else. Mandy sighed inwardly as she finished her meal, then walked upstairs to what had once been her bedroom. She’d half-expected to find that her mother was renting it out, but instead it was practically a shrine to her. Two of the walls were covered with her awards from school - none of them worth the paper they were printed on - while the other two were still decorated with posters she’d brought with her from Earth. She cursed her younger self, yet again, as she sat down on the bed. How childish had she been to think there was nothing more important than decorating her room when she arrived on Avalon?
Stupid as well, she thought, recalling when she’d been tricked into taking Sparkle Dust. If Jasmine hadn't come across her, she might well have been raped - or worse. And she would never have known for sure what had happened to her. Stupid and childish and idiotic and ...
“Is it just me,” Mindy said, “or is Mom starting to lose it?”
“She’s been quietly losing her shit for a very long time,” Mandy said. Their mother had been the perfect academic wife, right up until the moment they’d lost everything. She still shuddered in horror, remembering the screaming fits. Their friends had deserted them so quickly that none of them had quite recovered. “And she doesn't have anything to do.”
Mindy shrugged, closing the door and leaning against the wall. Mandy was rather impressed at how she’d managed to sneak up the stairs without being heard, although she supposed Mindy had been taught to walk quietly in training. Her younger sister wasn't the girl she’d been any longer ... but then, that was true of Mandy too. Mindy had never been quite so bratty either.
“There are options,” she said, dryly. “Surely there's something she could do.”
Mandy looked up at her. “Like what?”
“I don't know,” Mindy said. “Military training?”
“Ha fucking ha,” Mandy said. Her mother, like most people from Earth, had a bad case of hoplophobia. She would sooner pick up a neo-scorpion from the badlands than a loaded pistol, even in defence of her life.
The idea that her daughter might be carrying a weapon had stunned her into speechlessness. “Do you think she’d last a day?”
She contemplated the problem for a long moment. What was there for an aging woman with no real skills? An aging woman who was unwilling to learn? She couldn't think of anything, really. The neighbours probably didn't care enough to help, if they realised Fiona needed help. And really, who could blame them?
“I’m damned if I’m letting her talk to me like that again,” Mindy said. “Doesn't she realise we’re our own people?”
Mandy shrugged. “Too many changes in her life,” she said. “I think she just gave up trying to stay on top of things.”
“You’ve had changes,” Mindy pointed out.
“I’m younger,” Mandy said. “If I fuck up now, I still have time to find a new career. I could go back to repair work, or take up farming, or even write books! Mom ... doesn't have the time. Or anything, really.”
She leaned back on the bed, surveying the room. It hadn't changed a bit from the last day she’d slept in it, even though someone had clearly been tidying up and dusting on a regular basis. Indeed, there was something a little creepy about the room, now she came to think of it. It might be playing games with her mother’s mind, convincing her - on some level - that Mandy was still the sixteen-year-old who’d lost everything and been exiled to Avalon. No doubt her experiences on Lakshmibai hadn't helped either.
“I think they should move house,” she said, suddenly.
Mindy gave her an odd look. “Why?”
“Because this house is probably messing with their minds,” Mandy said. She stood, pacing over to her chest of drawers. “At the very least, we should move out permanently. Get our rooms emptied ...”
“I have no idea what you’re going to do with that crap,” Mindy said. She jabbed a finger at the poster of a famous singer. In all honesty, Mandy couldn't remember his name or why she’d liked him. “Is there anyone here who might want it?”
“Maybe it should just go in the fire,” Mandy said. She opened her drawers and frowned as she realised that half of her old clothing was still there. She’d never been able to bring herself to wear it, after she’d grown up, but her mother had kept it anyway. “And this crap can go in the clothing bank.”
“If they’ll take it,” Mindy said. She pulled a miniskirt out of the drawer and eyed it. “What the fuck were you thinking when you wore this?”
Mandy coloured. “I don’t think I was thinking at all,” she said. The dress was so short that anyone watching her could see the bottom of her ass. She cringed at the memory of all the boys who’d whistled at her, the single time she’d worn it in public. “And I never wore it again.”
“Oh, goody,” Mindy said sarcastically. She tossed the miniskirt to Mandy, then headed for the door. “I’ll empty my room, I think. You finish with yours.”
Mandy nodded. By the time they left, she could have the room empty, stripped bare of everything that had once belonged to her. And when they returned, perhaps they could find something else for her mother, something that would allow the older woman to make something of her life ...
It’s true, she thought, grimly. She wasn't the person she’d been - and she was glad of it. You just cannot go home again.
Chapter Eight
Indeed, while the underlying causes of the war were not addressed, there was a good chance the planetary government would come out ahead. To the Crackers, there could be no worse fate. They gambled everything on a victory.
- Professor Leo Caesius. The Role of Randomness In War.
“So,” Gaby said. They stood together, a short distance from the line of shuttles that were departing the spaceport and heading to orbit. “This is goodbye?”
Ed nodded. He’d resisted the option to board earlier, even though most of his officers and men were already loaded onto the giant starships. On the face of it, he’d wanted to be on Avalon to cope with any unexpected surprises, but they both knew he’d chosen to remain behind with Gaby for a few days more. And yet, time had finally run out.
“It is,” he said. “I should be back soon.”
“Soon,” Gaby repeated. Her lips twisted. “I thought the prediction was seven months, at best?”
“At best,” Ed confirmed. “I wish I could stay with you.”
He felt a flicker of guilt at his words. Leaving her behind was one thing, but leaving her behind when she was pregnant was quite another. He hadn't understood just how it would change his feelings until he’d actually faced it. Part of him was insistent that he shouldn't leave her at all. And yet, the rest of him was itching for the fight. There would be no political debates, no compromises over everything from funding to weapons design, merely a chance to get his hands around the enemy’s throat. The CEF would either win victory or suffer a disastrous defeat. There were no middle grounds.
“No, you don’t,” Gaby said. She smiled, rather sadly. “You’re just like my father, always keen to get stuck into the enemy. You’ve been pacing around here like a caged lion, always hoping the bars will vanish and you’ll be able to make your escape.”
Ed smiled back. “Was I really that bad?”
“I’m afraid so,” Gaby said. She leaned forward, standing on tiptoes to kiss him. “If the child is born before you return, he or she will be named as we chose.”
“It would be easier if you checked the child’s sex,” Ed pointed out. In truth, he wasn't sure he wanted to recall his parents or siblings, even though Avalon prized the idea of keeping names in the family. “At least we’d know what we’re having.”
“I don’t want to find out,” Gaby said. She glanced upwards as another shuttle screamed over the field, heading up to orbit. “Come back as fast as you can, all right?”
“I will,” Ed promised. “And make sure you don’t exert yourself too much ...”
Gaby elbowed him. “I’m giving birth, not going for a life-threatening operation,” she said, tartly. “Women have survived giving birth for thousands of years.”
Ed kept his thoughts to himself. Modern medicine - and Gaby would have the very best - would ensure that nothing went wrong, but he’d been on too many planets suffering from social collapse to feel sanguine about the future. Women who should have had no difficulty bringing a child to term had lost the baby, simply because they didn't eat the right things or suffered from a lack of medical care. The marines had been quite popular in places, simply because they offered medical assistance to the locals, but it had been nothing more than a drop in the bucket and everyone knew it. He had a nasty feeling that there were countless planets, right across settled space, that had suffered a terrifying drop in population ...
“You’re brooding again,” Gaby said. “Is that normal for you?”
“No,” Ed said. “But I do have a great deal to brood about.”
He shook his head. Seven years ago, he’d known his place; he was a company commander, reporting to the regimental commander. But now ... he had no superiors, as far as he knew; he certainly had no idea what had happened to the marines he’d known on Earth and the Slaughterhouse. Cold logic told him that Stalker’s Stalkers couldn't be the only surviving marine company, but cold logic wasn't very reassuring when he peered towards the former Core Worlds. None of the rumours made him feel any better about the future.
“Well, stop it,” Gaby said. “You’re meant to be gung ho about going to war, not brooding over matters you can't help.”
Ed shrugged. “I’ll do my best,” he said. “Goodbye, Gaby. I love you.”
He gave her one final kiss, then turned and walked towards the shuttle, refusing to look back until he reached the hatch. Gaby was standing there, looking alone; she waved once and then turned to walk back to the waiting aircar. She’d be back in her office, Ed was sure, before he was in orbit. And then ... he fought down a mad impulse to run after her as he walked into the shuttle, the crew chief slamming the hatch shut behind him. He found a seat and pulled his datapad from his belt as t
he pilot ran through the pre-flight checks and then launched the shuttle into the sky. As always, there were too many pieces of paperwork that demanded his urgent attention.
And it would be worse if we were on Earth, he thought, darkly. There were more paper-pushers in the military than there were fighting men.
He opened the readiness reports and read through them, one by one. Jasmine Yamane confirmed that 1st Platoon - or what was left of the once-proud unit - was ready to deploy, once they reached Corinthian. She’d even attached a proposal for making an orbital drop down to the surface, rather than using a shuttle. Ed was honestly tempted for a long moment - it had been years since he’d done anything more challenging than a parachute jump above Castle Rock - but dismissed the idea. Orbital drops could be deadly, even to experienced marines. And there was no need to repeat their first landing on Corinthian.
They Shall Not Pass (The Empire's Corps Book 12) Page 8
