by Daniel Gibbs
“Come in!” Kenneth yelled.
The hatch opened, and in walked David.
Kenneth stood abruptly. “Welcome, sir.”
David smiled. “Please, please, no need to stand on my account.”
“General, we always stand for flag officers,” Kenneth quickly responded.
David pointed at his rank insignia, which was back to its regular golden bird, the insignia for a colonel. “I don’t see any stars here. Please, take a seat.”
Once Kenneth sat down, David joined him and slid into one of the chairs in front of the desk. “I don’t get down here very often, Kenneth, but I wanted to thank you for your actions over the last week. Your entire team has performed incredibly. Without their help, I don’t think we’d have been successful. I’ll see to it that the proper recognition is given to all of them.”
Kenneth inclined his head; making sure that his people were taken care of was one of the basic tenets of his job. They were more than merely employees; they were his family. “Thank you, sir. A lot of heroic acts. Sometimes I think perhaps we have too many heroes. Certainly too many posthumous ones.”
David pulled a small case out of his pocket, set it down on Kenneth’s desk, and turned it around as he opened it. Inside was a CDF Superior Civilian Service Award; Kenneth recognized it immediately.
“Which one of my team earned that, sir?” Kenneth asked.
David shook his head. “This one is for you… for saving Corporal Lewis.”
Kenneth’s face turned ashen. “Sir, I don’t deserve that medal.”
“You may not think you do, but the award is specifically for acts of extraordinary heroism. I can’t think of a better definition than carrying a gravely wounded soldier who wasn’t expected to survive back to safety in a combat zone. Your actions were directly responsible for Corporal Lewis’s survival. Without you, he’d be dead, and I’d be writing one more letter to a family who lost their son.”
“No, sir, I mean… well, it was said at the time my actions were those of a coward.”
David’s eyebrows shot up. “Who said that?”
“Colonel Demood, sir.”
David sighed. “Kenneth, Colonel Demood is dealing with some issues right now. Don’t take what he said to heart.”
Kenneth shook his head, looking down at the floor. “The truth is, sir, I think he may be right. I’m not even sure why I thought it would be a good idea to suit up and try to play soldier. I’ve never fired a shot in anger in my life before last week. I froze up repeatedly; hell, I couldn’t unjam my gun until the first firefight stopped.”
David, much to Kenneth’s surprise, laughed out loud. “My first combat, I forgot to chamber a round. Nearly got killed before I could even shoot at the enemy. We all make those mistakes. Doesn’t make you a coward.”
“I’m afraid I may have seized on saving Corporal Lewis simply so I wouldn’t have to fight,” Kenneth said, looking up. “I don’t know for sure. It was all a jumble, and I think I was doing it for the right reasons, but I’m not sure.”
David looked at Kenneth intently. “It’s a maxim of Judaism that if you save one life, you save the entire universe. Only you and God know what’s in your heart, but I’m pretty sure you did it because it was the right thing to do,” he said, pausing for a moment. “Here’s something else to consider. Fear is one of our biggest motivators. We’ve all got fear. Period. Some of us are far better at controlling it than others. But the same fear that makes you quake in your boots at the sight of a League fleet is the same fear that can drive you to do things you never thought possible. It’s all in how you control it, and how you manage it. You saved someone’s son. That’s a good day.”
“I won’t lie… I felt fear like I’ve never felt it before, looking at those League soldiers with rifles trying to shoot us. I suppose its illogical, considering that at any point in time, this ship could be destroyed in combat, but it’s not the same.”
“No, it’s not. As someone who has seen combat from many different lenses, I can tell you with certainty there’s nothing quite like facing down another person who wants to kill you and is trying with everything they have to accomplish the goal.”
“Sir,” Kenneth began, losing his train of thought for a moment. “How do you do this, day in, day out? Having to make those decisions even for a few hours was overwhelming.”
“Honestly? You learn to compartmentalize your feelings. It doesn’t always work, but most of the time, it does. The danger is you push them aside too long, and then they overwhelm you. Or something worse happens, you grow numb to it all, and the horror we see no longer affects us.”
Kenneth folded his hands in front of him, not entirely sure what to say next. “I can’t imagine.”
David thankfully changed the subject. “Have you heard what we’re doing next?”
Kenneth shook his head. “Yes, sir. Six-week refit schedule to repair all battle damage, followed by another upgrade program. I got the performance work statement package from Major Hanson a couple of hours ago. We’re all over it, sir.”
“Excellent,” David replied. “The home defense fleet and our reserves are on station at Unity now to discourage any League ideas about retaking the station. Once we complete our refit and the rest of what’s being called now the ‘Great White Fleet’ is prepared… the assault on the League of Sol begins. It will take some time to put that fleet together, so in the meanwhile, the Lion will be cleaning up issues in local space and flying the flag.”
“When we finally get on the road to Earth, it’s the beginning of the end for the League,” Kenneth commented.
“Perhaps. But the League has thousands of ships, tens of millions of soldiers. It won’t be easy.”
“Nothing worth doing is ever easy. We’ll give you everything we’ve got, sir.”
David smiled and patted the case one more time as he stood. “You earned this medal, Kenneth. Display it with pride, put it away, do whatever you wish with it. But know saving a life is worth it, even when one life doesn’t seem significant sometimes in the grand scheme of things. It’s at those points we must remember every life counts. You did, and I thank you.”
Kenneth stood up and extended his arm. David grasped it, and they shook warmly. “I’ll do my best to make peace with it, sir.”
“You do that, Mr. Lowe. Carry on.”
Kenneth watched as David left, then looked down at the small case and lifted it in his hands. I know it was a small act but saving that young man’s life was the only thing I could do. To hear someone know they’re about to die and cry out to just be held by their mother one last time… I don’t think I could do it day in and day out. Thank God it’s not my job… my job is to make the best tools I can and give them to the men and women who make a difference.
Kenneth opened one of the drawers in his desk and took out a lockbox that had a biometric lock; scanning his fingerprint, the lockbox opened. Inside was a collection of similar small cases and challenge coins from his years of service. He snapped the case Colonel Cohen had given him shut and added it to the contents. After he had closed and reengaged the lock, he placed the box back in his desk, and smiling to himself, walked out of his office.
41
After the Lion of Judah had returned to Canaan, the “deck” crew had been given liberty, while those assigned to engineering were helping throughout all phases of the upgrade, as were the senior officers. The Marines had all disembarked and were enjoying a few weeks of well-earned leave, as was Calvin. He’d spent some time with his wife, but mindful of the promise he made both to David and Doctor Tural, a visit with the CDF counselor David had recommended was made.
Calvin felt very apprehensive as he stood in front of the professional office building; an emotion he wasn’t used to as a combat Marine who charged into danger like it was nothing more than a day at the office. The feeling in the pit of his stomach grew as he walked in and found the suite he was supposed to visit, a nameplate next to the door reading “Dr. Amy Elliso
n, Counselor.”
He pressed the buzzer, and the door slid open while Amy called out, “Come in, Colonel!”
Taking in the room, Calvin immediately noticed the typical couch, situated in front of a desk. There were also a few comfortable-looking chairs and a small table. A small box of tissues made his nose turn up. She must get a lot of wimps that cry in here.
Amy stood and walked from behind the desk to greet him. “Thank you for coming, Colonel. I’m Doctor Ellison.”
Calvin extended his arm. “Lieutenant Colonel Calvin Demood, Terran Coalition Marine Corps.”
Amy took the outstretched arm and shook it, her grip nothing like his. “May I call you Calvin?” At his nod, she continued, “Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”
Calvin sat ramrod straight in the chair. “I’ve done a lot of these before, but… never with an eye to get something out of it.”
“You mean you’ve never been honest?”
“Direct and to the point. I like that, Doctor,” Calvin said as a smile formed on his face. “Truth is, I never thought much of shrinks. I’ve just compartmentalized my experiences and tried to move on.”
“How’s that working for you?” Amy asked.
“I’m assuming you’ve seen the report?”
“Yes, it was shared with me after you agreed to become a patient.”
“I’m very conflicted about it, Doctor.”
“Call me Amy, please. This isn’t a formal setting, and I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
“Part of me feels shame that I threatened and might have carried out killing twenty thousand people. The other side of me feels like it was just another day, and they all had on the League’s uniform, so who cares.”
“I think rather than examine what’s just happened, we should go far into the past, Calvin. Let me start with this: you’ve been a Marine for twenty-two and a half years, correct?”
Calvin nodded. “Twenty-two years, seven months, eight days… not like I’m counting or anything.”
Amy laughed. “I understand you enlisted, attended basic training, and were immediately posted to a combat unit?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What was your first time in combat like?”
“It was pandemonium. I was wet behind the ears, we were assaulting a League force and, in all honesty, I was happy I didn’t freeze up and get killed. Too many Marines died that day.”
“Did you take a life?” Amy asked.
“I don’t know, Doctor. I know I shot at a lot of Leaguers… but who knows. Most of the time in a pitched battle like that, you don’t know exactly who you killed,” Calvin responded soberly.
“I fail to believe you don’t recall the first time you killed another human being, Calvin. If you can’t be honest with me…”
“The first time I remember looking into someone’s eyes and killing them was a different engagement, Doctor. I came upon a League interrogator in a room they used to question suspected members of the resistance,” Calvin said, shutting his eyes for a moment. “I can still remember walking into the room, seeing a young girl handcuffed to the table, and I just knew the sorry piece of human trash had done something horrible to her. He didn’t even the balls to resist us, just threw down his weapon and put his hands in the air.”
Amy sat at the edge of her seat and stared at Calvin with a piercing expression. “What happened then?”,
“I’ve told myself for twenty-two years he goaded me, boasted of his accomplishments and took pride in what he’d done. That made what I did seem okay,” Calvin replied, glancing up at her. “To answer your question, Doctor, I drew my sidearm, told him he’d get to see if there was a God, and blew his brains out on the floor.”
“But there’s something else there, right?”
Calvin closed his eyes, and was silent, wrestling with the memory buried deep inside. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he opened them again and looked at her directly in the eyes. “The truth is, he wasn’t boasting; he was cowering on the floor and begging for his life. I shot an unarmed man.”
Amy pursed her lips together. “I can’t imagine what you’ve had to live with since then, Calvin. I’m not here to judge you, I’m not here to condemn you. I think you’ve done a good job of that yourself. Do you believe what you did was wrong?”
Calvin nodded his head a couple of times. “I can’t escape it, Doctor. I’ve tried to make myself believe I take out the trash. That killing those monsters is no different than putting down a rabid animal. I think somewhere along the way, I turned into the monster I wanted to wipe off the face of the galaxy. The realization of it is why I almost killed myself in the medical bay on the Lion.”
“It doesn’t make you a bad person, Calvin. Nor are you alone. I can’t tell you how many soldiers have sat in that chair and told me about how they can’t go on, and say they have nothing to live for. I’ve treated many who had similar experiences. If you work with me, I believe we’ll be able to make you better. It’s not a short road, nor is it an easy road. But even just admitting what you just did… it’s a huge step.”
“Having Colonel Cohen tell me to my face I’m as bad as a Leaguer will kind of get your attention, Doctor,” Calvin said with a rueful smile. “In that moment, the rage I felt... I wanted to kill him for saying it. Then I realized he was right, and it was more than I could take.” He paused in mid-sentence. “Once this all hits my service record, I’ll be forced to retire, or worse.”
“Well, I’m no longer in the CDF, Calvin,” Amy began. “I plan to keep paper records of our visits together, and if you get to the point where I’m satisfied with your progress, I’ll destroy them.”
Calvin stared at her as if she’d grown a second head. “Come again?”
“When Colonel Cohen contacted me about helping you, those were his terms. He cares very deeply about you, and he knows what you’re going through. One of these days, ask him about his first combat.”
“I didn’t realize he had set this up, so to speak,” Calvin replied, his tone of voice betraying his shock.
“It was after you went to talk to Doctor Tural.”
“I see,” Calvin replied, not entirely sold on the idea. “I’m pretty sure what I did was against the Uniform Code of Military Justice.”
“Colonel Cohen said something about when we’re at war, the law is silent,” Amy said.
“Ah yes, him and his love for history. That’s an old Latin phrase. Inter arma enim silent leges. In times of war, the law falls silent,” Calvin said, remembering David’s commentary on the matter.
“How are you feeling, Calvin?”
“I’ve been better. I feel ashamed. I should’ve never let this get as far as it did,” Calvin responded, shaking his head.
“I see in your service record you’re a non-denominational Christian,” Amy began in her bright and cheery tone of voice, while gesturing toward a pillow on her couch that announced “Prayer is the answer!” “Would you be interested in praying with me to end our session today?”
“I don’t think God, if he’s even up there, wants to hear from me,” Calvin said sadly.
“I think it’s at times such as these, when we’re at our lowest, He wants to hear from us most of all.”
Calvin looked deep into her eyes. “I don’t have it in me right now, Doctor. Maybe you have enough for both of us?”
Amy walked over to Calvin, sat down next to him on the couch, and took his hand in hers. “Lord, we ask You today to help heal this wounded soldier. Calvin has endured so much; he has done unspeakable things in the service of his country and in the course of this war which has consumed our land. Heal him, help him to see the light, and find his way home. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”
“Amen,” Calvin uttered as she finished. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“I want you back here next week. You pick the day and time.”
“Same day, same time works for me. I’m on leave for a few weeks while they repair our ride,�
� Calvin replied with just a little bit of his normal cocky Marine tone.
“Good. I’ll see you then.”
“Thank you, Doc,” Calvin began to say before stopping himself. “Amy.”
Amy stood and smiled broadly at him. “Thank you for coming to see me and taking the first, difficult step.”
“Like any good Marine, I’ll stay the course.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
Taking his leave, Calvin walked out of the office and back out of the nondescript office building, into the sunshine of a perfect day on Canaan. Feeling a small amount of the load he carried lifted, he walked back to his helicar. Maybe there’s still hope for me yet, he thought to himself. I need to come clean to Jessica about this and let her know I’m trying to get some help. I’m sure she knows something has been wrong, but maybe I can put her mind at ease. Considering that course of action, he climbed into the helicar and punched up the autopilot for home.
Striding into the enormous cargo bay on the Lion of Judah, David felt very small. He always did, either on the flight decks or the cargo bays on the ship as they were just so huge. Forty-foot clearance between the deck plates and the overhead, with cranes and equipment for moving gear everywhere made a human look tiny by comparison. At ten minutes before 0800 CMT, even with most of the crew at liberty on Canaan, there were still several hundred soldiers lined up for morning colors. He tugged on his cover as he crossed over the threshold, as the area was considered “outside.”
“Attention! Colonel on deck!” Tinetariro barked as soon as she saw him enter.
The master chief must have binocular implants or something. David wore an amused smile on his face. “As you were!” he called out in reply; the soldiers relaxed back into uneven lines.
