Earthlings (Soldiers of Earthrise Book 2)

by Daniel Arenson

  Pippi leaned against the older woman and kissed her cheek. "Oh, Charlie, we can't help it. You are just so old."

  Charlie slapped her. "I'm only thirty, you dumb little thing!" She sighed. "Okay, thirty-one. Maybe thirty-two but that's it! Stop laughing! Regardless of my age, I'm still prettier than all of you together. So answer me! How are we going to get our videos to Earth?"

  Maria opened her mouth to speak. Before she could say a word, a group of Earthlings sauntered toward the table. They held trays of chicken and plastic cups so large you could hide artillery shells in them.

  "Hey, babies." One soldier waggled his eyebrows. "Want to nibble on a real bone?"

  His friends laughed and high-fived him.

  "Want to get lost?" Charlie said.

  The soldiers squeezed into the booths beside the bargirls. Charlie groaned as they jostled her aside, squeaking across the cheap plastic upholstery. Another soldier squeezed up against Maria, who grimaced and wriggled away.

  "I know you," a soldier said, placing his hand on Maria's knee. "You dance at the Bottoms Up."

  One of his friends snorted. "How can you tell? All these slit-sluts look the same."

  "They're all beautiful," said a third soldier. "How much?" He pulled open his wallet. "You do me right now, you get ten bucks, what do you—"

  "Go away!" Maria said, rising to her feet. "All of you Earthlings. Go! Leave us."

  The soldiers growled. They stood up, knocking over the girls' trays. They towered over Maria. She didn't even reach their shoulders.

  "What did you say, you little bitch?" a soldier demanded.

  Maria balled her fists. "Go away! We're not working now."

  The soldier reached out, grabbed her wrist, and twisted it painfully.

  With her free hand, Maria lifted a fork from the table and stabbed the soldier.

  It didn't cut the skin. But it must have hurt like hell. The soldier howled, released her, and stumbled back.

  Maria thrust her fork. "Go away or I'll stab you again!"

  "Yeah!" said Pippi, raising her own utensil. "Me too! Get lost, you big stinky putes."

  "Get out of here!" Charlie added, shaking her fist, then dropped her voice. "You can visit me later at the Go Go Cowgirl. I take twenty dollars for the night, and if you want to marry me and take me to Earth, I—"

  "Charlie!" Maria rolled her eyes.

  The soldiers departed. The stabbed man grumbled while his friends laughed uproariously, already reenacting the scene. Maria expected that for the rest of his service, this soldier would be mercilessly ribbed.

  "Anyway." Maria looked back at her friends. "You wanted to know how we get our videos to Earth?" She pointed her thumb at the retreated Earthlings. "With them."

  Charlie's eyes widened. "With the putes? They'll never help us."

  "They'll be our mules," Maria said.

  Charlie tilted her head. "A mule? Like a little cow?"

  "No, no, you stupid city girl!" Pippi slapped the back of Charlie's head. "A mule is a kind of big pig. You know, like lechon. I know because I grew up on a farm."

  "You grew up two blocks from me, you dumb idiot!" Charlie slapped her back. "A mule is a cow! Like a cow that still has its balls, so it has horns."

  Pippi groaned. "A cow with balls is a bull, you dumb bitch. Like they fight in France. You know, the country shaped like a boot? That's on Earth, in case you don't know, you uneducated gutter rat."

  Maria cleared her throat. "Actually, a mule is…" She thought for a moment. "To be honest, I'm not sure what a mule is. But I know you use them to deliver things. And that's what the Earthlings will do for us. Deliver our videos. Like mules."

  "I've never seen a pig delivering anything," Pippi muttered.

  "Besides, like I said, the putes will never help us!" Charlie said. "You know, these videos would never survive military censorship. The soldiers can't just report anything they want, you know. It's all classified. Everything that happens here. Any soldier who agreed to be a delivery pig would just end up in prison."

  "A mule," Maria said. "Not a pig. And they don't need to know they're mules."

  "Because even they don't know what a mule is!" Pippi said, gnawing on a chicken leg.

  "I told you when we founded the Bargirl Bureau," Maria said. "That we would not fight as soldiers or guerrillas. But as bargirls. And what are bargirls best at?"

  "Drinking?" said Charlie.

  "Fucking?" said Pippi.

  "Charming," said Maria. "Specifically, charming men. More specifically, charming Earthling men. Follow my lead, girls. Let's go kissing."

  * * * * *

  "Roll up, roll up!" Charlie announced, swaying her hips. "Roll up for your kisses, boys!"

  The bargirl queen was a picture of seduction, wearing denim cutoffs, fishnet stockings, and a cowgirl hat. Her tiny flannel shirt barely hid her breasts, and her lipstick was a bright red beacon.

  "Step right up, boys!" Pippi leaned forward and blew a kiss. "Get your goodbye kisses, oh brave cowboys!"

  Pippi wore a revealing schoolgirl uniform, including striped stockings. Her pigtails were freshly dyed, the orange hue so bright it could give people seizures, and she held an oversized novelty lollipop. To complete the picture, freckles were painted on her face. She began to sing "On the Good Ship Lollipop," swaying seductively across the stage, drenching an innocent song with liquid sex. A few Earthling soldiers approached, practically drooling as they watched Pippi dance.

  Twenty other bargirls were strutting on stage, wearing their most revealing outfits, ranging from sexy nurse uniforms to bikinis. The sunlight reflected in their sunglasses, and their skin glistened with sweat, but the heat did nothing to dampen their spirits. They kept calling out.

  "Step right up!"

  "Free kisses for all brave soldiers!"

  "Come and get 'em!"

  A banner hung above the stage: GOODBYE KISSES. Hearts were drawn around the letters.

  The stage rose outside Marco Emery Spaceport. The MES was Earth's gateway to and from Bahay. Every day, shuttles landed here, carrying fresh troops from motherships in orbit. Teenage boys and girls emerged into the sunlight and heat, blinking and afraid, fresh meat for the jungles. And every day, some shuttles rose, heading toward the motherships. And these shuttles carried soldiers away from Bahay forever.

  There were different reasons soldiers left Bahay.

  Some simply completed their five years of military service. They could return to Earth now, haunted and broken after half a decade of war.

  Others returned home disabled. Some burnt. Some missing limbs. Some missing faces. Some were fine physically, but something had broken inside their souls, and they walked in silence, staring ahead with blank eyes.

  And many soldiers returned home dead.

  As Maria strutted on stage with the girls, watching the Earthlings carrying coffins toward shuttles, she prayed that Jon was not inside one of them.

  Unlike the other girls, she wasn't dressed revealingly. She wore a white dress, like the one she had worn on her debut at the Go Go Cowgirl. It was virginal and she was no longer a virgin. But it still seemed appropriate. To the soldiers, indeed to all of Mindao, she had become a figure of legend. Holy Maria, she who walked among the poor. She who had gone into the shantytown fire a whore, who had emerged transfigured and pure.

  She did not fear standing here. Not before this crowd. If Ernesto was still in the city, he would never dare come here. Not to a place with hundreds of Earthling soldiers. This was probably the safest place for Maria on Bahay—here with those who had destroyed her world.

  "It's her." A soldier pointed. "It's Holy Maria. The saint of Bahay."

  "Holy Maria!" whispered another, his eyes wide, as if he had seen an angel.

  Hundreds of soldiers were walking below the stage, heading toward the spaceport. They wore tattered, bloodstained uniforms. Some were walking, carrying rucksacks and weapons. Some rolled in wheelchairs or hobbled on crutches. Some lay on litters. But they
all had haunted eyes.

  They are a grand empire, Maria thought. They spread across the stars. And we humble Bahayans hurt them. We hurt them so badly.

  The soldiers stared at the Bargirl Bureau. A few men whistled, catcalled, even thrust their hips. But they all had haunted eyes. Eyes that gazed upon two worlds: the world around them, and the world they had left in the jungle. Maria knew that even back on Earth, even on that distant world of comfort and plenty, they would forever see the ghosts of war.

  She knew because she herself still saw them. Her dead parents, their faces gone. The burning corpses. The men she had killed. Forever they danced around her like the dance of skeletons in a midnight graveyard.

  "Get your goodbye kisses!" Charlie said, strutting on her high heels. She blew kisses at the soldiers. "Brave soldiers, you fought to liberate Bahay from the evil Red Cardinal! Let us southern girls send you off with a goodbye kiss. Free goodbye kisses, hottest in town, come and get 'em!"

  Charlie Wonder. She was famous, billed at the Go Go Cowgirl as the most beautiful woman on Bahay. Few soldiers would dispute that, and fewer would turn down her lips. And the other girls were no eyesores either. The soldiers approached, nudging one another. A few officers came with them. Even a few female soldiers fluttered toward the stage, licking their lips.

  The bargirls teetered toward the edge of the stage, where ramps had been set up. Each ramp led to a different girl. Soldiers lined up, climbed the ramps, and leaned in for kisses.

  Charlie was first to kiss a man—a stubbly sergeant with one arm. She kissed him deeply, passionately, and Maria noticed what nobody else did. Charlie slipped a little device into the sergeant's pocket, then whispered something in his ear.

  "Holy Maria, I want a kiss goodbye."

  Maria turned to see a soldier climbing the ramp toward her. He was a young man, probably no older than her. He was walking on crutches, barely able to get up the ramp. One of his legs was gone.

  "What's your name?" Maria said.

  "I'm Sergeant Dennis Harrison, from Nebraska, Earth." He blushed. "Maybe that sounds too official? I'm Dennis. Um, hi." His blush deepened. "You're very pretty."

  He was so nervous. He almost reminded Maria of herself on her first night at the Go Go Cowgirl. She was loyal to Jon, and she loved Jon with all her heart. But she leaned forward and kissed this young soldier, and as their lips touched, she wondered how many Bahayans this boy had killed.

  As they kissed, she pulled the little device from her pocket.

  A codechip.

  It was no larger than a fingernail. A little computerized square. Maria didn't know much about computers. That was Earth technology. Pippi had stolen a whole bag of these codechips from an electronics store outside an HDF base. Soldiers used them to store movies, books, video games, and photos, which they could then plug into their miniature computers.

  To Maria it all seemed like magic. But Pippi was clever with Earth's strange machines, and she had filled hundreds of codechips with the Bargirl Bureau's videos.

  Interviews with refugees.

  Testimonials from soldiers who had killed civilians, who had spilled their hearts before the camera.

  Photos of scars. Of deformities.

  Stories of atrocities.

  Stories to make Earth ashamed. To make Earth vote down President Hale. Stories to end this war. Each codechip only contained a single video interview—these were codechips made in Bahayan shops, crude compared to Earth technology, and it was all they could hold. But together, they could bring down an empire.

  And so, as she kissed Dennis, she slipped the codechip into his pocket.

  She pulled her lips back, stroked his cheek, and whispered into his ear. "I put something in your pocket, Dennis. A gift from me. A special little video. Keep it secret. Keep it safe. Don't watch it until you're back on Earth. And then share it. With everyone."

  He looked at her. "What's on it?"

  She stared steadily into his eyes. "Truth. Goodbye, Sergeant Dennis Harrison."

  You killed Bahayans here, Sergeant, she thought. You're just a boy, but you're a boy who raped and brutalized my world. Now share your secrets with your world.

  He left, heading toward the shuttle that would carry him to his mothership—and from there across the galaxy, all the way home to Earth.

  Another soldier stepped up. She was a tall sergeant with black hair, icy blue eyes, and a scar on her cheek. Her sleeves were rolled up, revealing many tattoos on her arms. Red star tattoos. Maria had seen such tattoos on Earthling soldiers in the clubs. Each one represented one Bahayan killed.

  This sergeant killed dozens of us, Maria thought.

  The sergeant brushed back Maria's hair and smiled crookedly. "I fought hard to liberate you southern girls from the scourge of the north. Do I get a kiss goodbye too? Or do you only kiss the boys?"

  Maria had only kissed two people in her life, Jon and Dennis, both of them boys. But she let this tall, tattooed sergeant kiss her. Despite the sergeant's gruff demeanor, her kiss was soft. Surprisingly soft. And when she pulled back, the sergeant had tears in her eyes.

  "I'm sorry," the sergeant whispered. "For what we did to you."

  Maria slipped a codechip into the tall woman's pocket. "Take this with you. Show this to Earth. They must know."

  More soldiers lined up. Hundreds of them. After years of war, of bloodshed and heartbreak, of killing and watching friends die, they wanted this last kiss goodbye.

  And most of them lined up to kiss Maria.

  She was not the prettiest. That was Charlie. And Maria was certainly not the sexist, what with her flowing white dress and skinny body. That honor went to Pippi. But Maria realized that the soldiers were not lining up here to fulfill a sexual urge.

  They came, and they kissed the bargirls, because they wanted to feel that they had done right here.

  That they were appreciated.

  That they had fought as liberators. Not as a conquerors or killers.

  Deep down, perhaps they all knew that they had sinned. That they had come as an alien imperial force. That their leaders had lied to them. They had flown here like Jon, young and idealistic, believing in the justice of their cause. Believing that they must kill the evil slits to protect the justice of the Human Commonwealth.

  They had found themselves in hell. And they had discovered that they were the demons.

  And so now they sought to kiss angels. Now, during their last few moments in this war, they sought forgiveness. Redemption. A moment of fantasy. See! they told themselves. We are heroes! We are liberators! See how the daughters of Bahay kiss us, grateful for how hard we fought to protect them!

  But all these daughters of Bahay had lost brothers and fathers to the cruelty of Earth. And while they kissed these departing soldiers, comforting them for a moment, they also gave them codechips full of horrifying truths. Truths which would haunt them for a lifetime.

  This is how we fight, Maria thought. Not as soldiers. As bargirls. This is how we will win.

  She kept kissing them. Kept giving out codechips. And she saw that while she was not the prettiest, nor the most alluring, she had the longest line of soldiers. Because while the other girls were curvier, prettier, and intoxicating, she was Holy Maria, an angel in white, and only she could offer absolution.

  As the day went by, and she kept kissing soldiers, Maria just hoped Jon would forgive this infidelity.

  I'm doing this to end the war, she thought as the men kept stepping up. Fight like a soldier, Jon. I'm fighting like a bargirl.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Cardinal

  Carter moved through the black city, hunting, relentlessly stalking, seeking his prey along twisting cobbled roads.

  I will find you, Ernesto. I'm coming for you. Your end is near.

  He had lost half his platoon already. Twenty-five of his soldiers lay dead in the jungles, upon the mountainside, and in the alleyways of Basilica. But Carter kept going. He would never turn back. There was a bullet hol
e in his side. There was fire in his belly. There was hatred in his heart. He kept fighting, firing his gun, killing for every step, seeking his enemy.

  You're here, Ernesto. I know it.

  And suddenly Carter was back there.

  Two years ago. His first tour of Bahay.

  Lost in the jungle, the only survivor of his platoon.

  Back then, he had not stopped either. He had kept trudging through the forest, day after day. Week after week. Hunting. Dwindling away. Alien bugs had lain eggs under his skin. He puked blood. But he kept going through that jungle, tracking the man who had wiped out his soldiers. Who had taken Lizzy.

  And I found you.

  Carter roared, fired his gun, and sprayed bullets down the basalt street. Bahayans fell, riddled with lead. But none of them were a man with a scar on his cheek, a metal plate on his head, and one white eye. None of them were the only enemy that counted.

  I found you a year ago. I will find you now.

  Carter narrowed his eyes. They stung. The pain clutched his heart.

  He still remembered it. Finding the lair a year ago. Finding Lizzy in a bamboo cage. Covered with burn marks. Raped. Her hand severed. Dying. The woman he loved more than life—mutilated.

  He had saved Lizzy's life. He had fled with her.

  He had given Lizzy his full attention—and let Ernesto get away.

  "Not this time," Carter swore, moving down another dark road. "We end this now."

  His eyes burned with tears.

  He thought of General Ward, his father—rejecting him.

  He thought of Lizzy, the woman he loved—flying home. Leaving him.

  He had nothing left. Nothing but his need for vengeance. A deep hunger inside him, all-consuming. And that hunger would be sated.

  "Sir!" Jon Taylor was racing after him. "Sir, we're moving too far from the rest of our company."

  Carter stared ahead.

  He saw it there.

  A flutter of movement. A red shadow.