Darkside 1

by Aaron K Carter

  “I do,” I say. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Of course, he was very clever. And there was still the possibility he would save us all. If anyone could save us from the end times, it was certainly him. “I’ll have a look. There are usually readers for lending, or a tablet, in the officer’s hall. I don’t think anyone would mind if he used it, for training purposes.”

  “Sir, I think he’d like that, maybe fewer guidons would end up on roofs,” he says.

  “They might at that, do you have any idea how he’s doing that?” I ask, almost laughing.

  “No, sir, none at all,” he says, smiling a little too, “Only don’t tell him I told you to give him something to read. I don’t think he’d like it.”

  “Why not?” I ask, a bit surprised, “I’d have thought you two would get on, as well as anyone would get on you’re both---ah—”

  “Sir, city trash?” he asks.

  “Searching for a better word than that, but yeah, pretty much,” he says, nodding.

  “Sir, I don’t think Cadet Card gets on with anyone. He barely gets on with Cadet Tom and he’s got eyes for her if you know what I mean,” he says.

  “I do have an idea what you mean, yes,” I say, nodding. I hadn’t thought of it like that. maybe there’s something wrong with me. maybe I’m overreacting. Perhaps I’m blaming him for the coming of the end times when he is only a player, even our savior. I mustn’t go too far until I have proof. Solid proof that is. Since people being baked into pies and setting themselves on fire apparently isn’t proof enough for certain people that the universe is coming to an end.

  “Sir, I don’t get on with people either, and I’m stupid, I suppose that’s why I don’t because I’m lucky I can walk and talk at the same time so getting on with people is far too much for my brain cells,” he says, “Then I met Cadet Card, and I realized it must be very awful to be terribly clever and still not get on with people. He can figure just about anything he likes out, but he can’t seem to figure out how to make friends.”

  “Or he doesn’t want to,” I point out.

  “I think he wants to. I think deep down everyone wants to,” he says, “We just can’t.”

  Being hospitalized is quite thrilling. People are constantly coming in and out to check on you and taking your pulse and temperature and bringing you food like ice cream.

  And there’s a tablet at the end of the bed with all my information on it and a pathetic attempt at a firewall and so by the time night has fallen and the evening nurses are coming in I’ve gone and visited Peter enough times to do my best to reverse the brainwashing, explored every inch of the place should I need to escape later, and read eight books and am in the middle of the ninth when I hear the sound I’ve been waiting for, boots with metal heels click down the hall.

  Harris is the only MTI with metal heels because he has the unparalleled pleasure of showing us facing movements. I hear him and dart out of my room. they’ve taken off the heart monitors and blood pressure one. The doctors cleared me to go home in the morning, they just wanted me to have a good night’s sleep before going back to training in the morning.

  “Sir,” I say, stepping into the hallway.

  I really didn’t think somebody could be confident and arrogant while wearing a hospital gown. I really didn’t think a man could be. I really didn’t expect to be intimidated by a sixteen-year-old in a hospital gown. And yet here we are.

  “Sir,” he says, closing his room door carefully.

  “Card, what are you---how did you end up here?” I ask, “Were you burned as well?”

  “No, sir, Ebbel had me run the track fifteen times and I ran out of oxygen, in my blood and the tank, so I got sent here for a bit. How is Cadet Long?”

  “I don’t know---right now, I’ve been with him, waiting for him to come out of surgery, then he was sleeping so I went back to the barracks to change into my SBUs, my PT stuff was ruined—” why the hell am I explaining myself to him? “—and I showered and I—and they said they didn’t know, they said he was sleeping and I’m off duty, for a night for the trauma, or whatever, so I’m coming here, to check on him.”

  “Sir, you need to stay with him,” he says, stepping forward, “I think somebody’s trying to hurt him.”

  “What?” I ask, frowning at the little, awfully thin person in a hospital gown. God he’s barely got hair on his legs and chest he’s still such a kid and he doesn’t look cold, how can he not be cold? I’m in my SBUs and I’m cold.

  “Sir, think, what happened to him, had to do with the Cadet who got baked in the pies. I think maybe Peter knew and he was afraid,” Card says.

  “What—did he say something to you?” he asks.

  “No, sir, he was off all day like he was---oh I don’t know---brainwashed, or something. I think you need to look out for him,” Card says, “I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

  “Let’s go and see him,” I say, nodding for Card to come with me.

  “Yes, sir,” he says, following quickly I’m hurrying and his legs are rather short.

  “Why do you think that? Do you have any idea what’s been going on?” I ask. What if somebody is trying to harm the Cadets, some anti-military group or something? What if Liesel gets hurt?

  “No, no I’ve absolutely no idea what so ever it’s a total mystery, but, I think Peter’s got himself involved somehow,” he says, “Can you stay with him for the next few days? Till they move him---where ever they’re going to put him.”

  “Can you take care of the other Cadets for me?” I ask, looking at him seriously. “I know you’re different than the rest---Card---you just are. We all do, know it I mean. Can you keep an eye on them, just all of them? For me, I’ll see that nothing happens to Peter, but, take care of the others for me?”

  “Yes, sir,” he says, nodding.

  “Go back now, then, it’s an order, get your SBUs, here’s money for a taxi,” I say, fishing for rubles in my pocket, “And run.”

  “Yes, sir,” he says, not needing to be told twice.

  “Do you want to switch bunks for the night?” Tsegi asks, leaning her head up to me.

  “No, I want to sleep,” I sigh, rolling over. of course, I can’t sleep. Usually, Peter and I message each other till we both fall asleep but now he’s gone and I’m worried about him they’ve not told us anything.

  “Please? I want to watch for when Leavitt gets back,” she says, pathetically, “He has late duties tonight.”

  “And the last time somebody had late duties they wound up in a pie or set on fire, point taken,” I say, sitting up, “Let’s go look for him.”

  “We can’t—can we?” she asks.

  “They must not have the cameras on, otherwise Titus wouldn’t get the guidon on the roof every day,” I point out.

  “Oh, yes, that’s true,” she says, “I didn’t think of that.”

  “No, well, come on, let’s go and see that all’s well at the laundry,” I say, getting up.

  “Yes, let’s,” she says.

  Shame Peter’s in the hospital. I don’t see how I can get over there, it’s not IDMT it’s much farther across the base and surely there are cameras. Now there’s nothing for it. If he tells the police they probably won’t believe him any way he is crazy. But even so, I’d have liked to have silenced him. as it is, I think I’ll mess with Titus a bit. he’s the one who got Peter set on fire and whisked away, I don’t know how but he did. He’s endangered us both, the fool. Well, I know what he likes. He likes Cadet Tom.

  “After Audrey left me then I lived on my own for a bit—well I’ve always lived on my own when I’m here but once you make rank you can have private quarters where you can live with someone—”

  “Sir, I’m confused, why did Audrey leave you?” Leavitt asks.

  “Oh, same reason Margaret did, she thought I was needy and immature and incapable of self-care, obsessed with my job, and prone to alcoholism,” I explain, “Sorry, that sort of goes for all my exes so it’s just a blanket statem
ent---I know exactly why I’m impossible to be around I just can’t change it. so, yeah, she left me for a few months I was all on my own and I was stationed planetside so it was very lonely. Next deployment I met Susan---”

  “What are you doing in here?” Ebbel asks, tiredly, walking in.

  “Having an emotional conversation,” I say.

  “I quit sending the cadets to Kip because he kept doing that with them now you’re doing it?” he asks, annoyed.

  “Yeah, seems so,” I say, shrugging.

  “I leave you alone for two minutes---will you quit reading that?” he asks, seeing my book, “And have him finish up in here, it’s getting late.”

  “Sir,” I say, nodding, as Leavitt greets Ebbel accordingly as he slams the door.

  The boy stands obediently, picking up his cleaning things.

  “No, no, sit down, Ebbel’s wrath is way cheaper than therapy, so, where were we? Oh, yeah Audrey left—”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “What are YOU doing here?”

  “Do you ever stay where you’re told?”

  “Clearly not but if you were staying where you were told then I wouldn’t have found you would I?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for you, you?”

  “Same.”

  That’s me and Tom, obviously. Told you we were made for each other. The stars revolve around her eyes. that’s really good actually. I think I’ll tell her.

  “The stars revolve around your eyes, did you know that?” I ask studying her eyes, “Will you kiss me?”

  “What---no---are you as mental as Peter? What are you doing back?” she asks, putting her hands on her hips, “You were sent to the hospital for good reason.”

  “No, I only went ‘cause I wanted to check on Peter and he’s okay Harris is with him he’s gotten emotionally attached so it’s fine,” I say, “We’ve got all night, once I clear the barracks to want to go for a run?”

  “No, I don’t want to go for a run, I don’t want to kiss you, actually, and this may sound really weird, I want to go to sleep, it’s this thing non-Titus’ do at night,” she hisses, basically tugging me back towards the barracks, “And what do you mean clear the barracks?”

  “Just a short kiss, ten minutes at the maximum, I don’t want much, just you and control of the known universe,” I plead. It’s a fine night for romantic endeavors, the moons are shining, the stars are bright, and the wind is just cold enough to make you want to hold someone close to you.

  “No, you’re mental, I’m going to bed seeing as how you’re safe,” she says rolling her eyes.

  “Would you kiss me if I weren’t mental?” I ask, cocking my head.

  “Oh, so you admit you’re mental?” she asks, turning around and folding her arms.

  “No, but it’ll work because the thing is I’ve searched our whole language for a word, just one perfect beautiful word, that can describe exactly me and contains all my attributes, good and bad, and I can’t find it. I know loads of other words, they all fit different people. But I can’t find a word for me,” I say, shrugging helplessly.

  “I can,” she says, smiling that deep and lonely smile that I have seen only ever grace her lips.

  “What?” I ask, frowning. I can’t think of one and I’ve gone to much trouble to learn every word I can for everything.

  “Titus,” she says, and then she kisses my lips quickly, too quickly for me to kiss back. then she turns and jogs back towards the barracks. I’m enjoying the taste of her on the mouth so much, I pause before I follow her.

  “You know you’re right,” I say, running to catch up. She’s right, I’m not a word already invented. I’m a new word. I’m me and there’s nobody like me and there never will be again and my name will always hold the horrendous meaning of being associated with me.

  “I do know, I also know we should actually try something new tonight and go to sleep,” she says.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Have you ever tried sleeping a whole night here?” she asks.

  “No,” I admit.

  “Try it for me, we’ll discuss the results in the morning,” she says.

  “All right, that could be stimulating,” I say, cheerfully. A kiss and an experiment. I am so happy right now.

  “Yeah, definitely. We should get really started.”

  The card has found his Tom. Well, that means no joy for me tonight.

  Oh and don’t think I’ve forgotten about Ebbel. But there’s murder then there is bonding time with the delightful Tom. It’s a hard choice under most circumstances, but it’s made easier by the fact that I have no idea where Ebbel is tonight, so I might as well do that tomorrow.

  “So, in conclusion, my problem with women is not just my problem with women it’s my problem with life. I’m a nervous, only semi-functioning twitchy human being and I know it and I tell them that before they go out with me, but they think that’s sweet and charming and they laugh and say it can’t possibly be true, then they realize it is and they feel really guilty because I’m a mess and I warned them but they also can’t handle it so it takes forever to break up,” I say, leaning against the back of the washing machine as it hums peacefully.

  “Sir, that is a problem,” Leavitt says, crawling out from behind a washing machine. He felt like he ought to be doing something so he was cleaning the lint out of the vents of the things.

  “I know, and it’s painful, because I feel bad and then they feel bad, maybe I’m the disease,” I say, with a sigh.

  “Sir, I don’t think so, I think everyone’s just sort of different,” he says, sitting cross-legged on the floor, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  “Yeah, just sort of different,” I say, with a smile, “You know, you’re right? And it’s just a matter of finding our own sort of different.”

  “Yes, sir,” he says, smiling as well.

  “thron, I realize this is your own personal form of therapy but you need to let that cadet go to bed,” Ebbel says, walking in, “He has to wake up in three hours.”

  Chapter 22

  D isposing of a body was rather invigorating. And it nearly sent Leavitt to pieces. I saw him after they sent him back today, he’s not right in the head. I wonder if I can do it so quickly and smoothly again. And if at the same time, I can get that annoying leviathan Leavitt to completely go to pieces. Well, one way to find out.

  I sit next to the boy’s bedside, looking at the monitor’s beeping and watching him sleep. It’s surprisingly comforting to watch somebody sleep. Especially a child, or as near as he is to a child he isn’t a man not yet, poor boy. I wonder who his father is. I read his file, he’s one of the Forgotten, as they call themselves. The ones that nobody comes for. how could you do that? You know your flesh and blood is living, breathing out there somewhere without you, and you don’t even want to know they are okay? I can see not wanting to raise them, that looks hard I’m sure I’m not capable of that. I never would have been. But for God’s sake, I wanted my daughter alive and well and able to talk to me. I cared about who or what she was. I wanted to go and throttle whoever his parents were. tell them their boy was lying, incoherent, lonely, in a hospital bed after trying to burn himself up, was that anything to do with what you did? Huh? Maybe? Maybe the fact that you brought him into this unfeeling, miserable world---which according to Thorne is coming to an end but that’s just a side note---and he knows for a fact you brought him here and now don’t even care to meet him? Not even learn his name? Who named him? Who named my Leisel? All the lost children who gave them names and dried their tears? Nobody with enough care, for sure. Or he’d not be lying here like this now.

  “Are you from the Space Forces?” a nurse asks, coming and checking Peter’s chart.

  “Yes, I’ve been sent down with him,” I lie. I wasn’t sent, I just sort of came. Somebody ought to be here.

  “That’s good, I do hate it when they’re alone,” he says, looking at the boy, “Especially now, but
soon he’ll get some attention, they’re saying they’ll send him to inpatient once the burn unit is done with him.”

  “What’s that?” I ask, I’m stupid I didn’t even know there was a special burn unit till this morning.

  “Inpatient? It’s psychiatric care,” he says.

  “Like institutionalizing him?” I ask, “He’s sixteen years old.”

  “He did set himself on fire, and anyway, it’s not as though anyone is coming for him,” he says, shrugging, “There’ll be people there that’ll take care of him.”

  “What do you mean, it’s not as though anyone is coming? You mean if nobody comes and gets him out, he’ll just stay there?” I ask.

  “Probably, yeah,” he says, shrugging, “I worked at one once, dead depressing, nobody ever comes if they’ve got no family, nobody to care for them because they usually can’t do it all themselves, medications and such.”

  “That’s horrible,” I say, reaching out and holding his hand as he sleeps.

  “Yeah, it is, better than the war though, I think. Maybe not, though. they’ve got their own war in their heads, don’t they?”

  “Yes,” I say, “They do.” what would have possessed him to do something like that to himself?

  I don’t like sleeping, Tom suggested we do it as an experiment but I’ve never really liked it. and I passed out already earlier today, I miss my mind when I’m asleep. But as she said, I should try, after all, if I haven’t actually tried to sleep through a night I can’t be completely certain it is not amusing to me. So I lie there with my eyes closed, forcing my brain to shut off which I absolutely despise doing, but it is the only way to reach full REM. Harris did ask me to keep any eye on the cadets, which I have no intention of doing if only because he asked, but since I wanted to know if he would be close to a mental breakdown or not, I have had a look around, and Liesel is safely asleep in her bunk. Tyrell is not even though he should be back from late duties by now. but I will do experiments on him another day. What I really want to do now is fully analyze the effects on Peter, if my mind control contributed to his lessened brain capacity or if the shock was purely the cause and I was the catalyst. Next time I certainly don’t need my victim becoming actively violent. Before I tell him to. Perhaps I simply need to make my instructions more coherent. Well, the only thing to do is an experiment. Which I should be doing right now with extended sleep. I sigh. I really don’t think I’m going to enjoy this.