Read Virtues of War Online

Authors: Bennett R. Coles

Virtues of War (27 page)

Jack glanced at her. Amanda was still a serving member of the military, even if she wasn’t a combat veteran. She’d pay a reduced fee, but looking again at the welcoming section of boardwalk he knew he didn’t want to miss an opportunity.

“I’ll pay for you,” he offered.

“No thanks.” She frowned. “I make more than you do, junior.”

So much for gallantry. He shrugged. “Okay, then let’s ditch this mob.”

They started down the boardwalk, strolling at a leisurely pace until they reached the paid section. Jack let his memory linger on the sudden smiles and looks of respect as he and Katja presented their veteran cards. He wondered if the gatekeepers had assumed they were a couple—he certainly hadn’t done anything to dissuade the notion.

He’d kind of hoped to see Katja’s technique at licking an ice-cream cone, but she’d opted for a cup and spoon instead. On his other side Amanda, he noted, had gone for a double scoop.

“So, Jack,” Katja said, “have you broken any more Hawks lately?”

“No way,” he responded. “You should have seen how I put that bird in the nest on our last trip. Amanda was with me.” He looked over to her for comment. She nodded sarcastically with a mouth full of ice cream.

After that there was a moment of silence, broken only by their steps on the wooden planks, and Jack tried to think of some suitably witty barb to throw at Katja. Disappointingly, he came up blank.

“Did you help Jack on the prototype Dark Bomb?” Amanda asked, mouth finally free of ice cream. Katja didn’t answer right away, her dark eyes casting out over the lake.

“I was there for the launch,” she admitted, “but I didn’t understand the science.”

“See,” he said, gently poking Amanda. “I was doing science.”

“Whatever, Jack.”

“So are you a scientist, Amanda?” Katja asked.

“Trying to be. I did my masters thesis on prion incursions into the Bulk, but these days everyone’s focused on the gravitons. My doctoral thesis will describe the effect on vacuum energy by Bulk gravitons excited by ripples from the Chtholian Deep. Our current research has quite a bit of relevance to my area of study, so I’m able to gather a lot of thesis data while still doing the State’s work.”

Amanda got really animated when she talked about her research, but Jack didn’t want to bore Katja.

“What that means is that I have to fly the Hawk really slow and silent,” he noted. “Kind of like our recce of Abeona.”

Katja nodded, but didn’t comment. They strolled along for a few more silent moments, and it began to feel uncomfortable.

“Have you seen your folks yet?” he asked Katja.

“Oh, yeah. More than enough,” she said, her voice strange. “My father’s coming into town tomorrow, actually.”

“That’s cool. Why’s he coming?”

“Some Army thing.” She shrugged. “I think they’re doing some exercises for the Astral College students—something about improving cross-service cohesion.”

He laughed. “I think the Astral Force should focus on getting the Fleet and Corps to work together, before we mix it up with the Army.”

She smiled and shrugged again.

Try as he might, Jack couldn’t really get the conversation going. He and Katja talked a bit about their time in space, but not as much as he’d expected. She didn’t really seem to think their experiences were worth reminiscing about. It was a shame, because he really wanted to talk.

He wondered if Amanda’s presence was making it awkward, and almost regretted bringing her along. She wasn’t contributing to the conversation at all, anyway. By the time they reached the far end of the paid section, corn dog and ice creams were long since done. Jack stopped where the wooden walkway morphed into the start of a garden path, and looked at the ladies.

“So, thoughts for the evening?” he asked. “Maybe some drinks?”

Amanda stretched grandly. “I’m actually pretty tired,” she said. “I think I’m going to head back, have an early night.”

Good, she’s taking the hint
, he thought. “How about you, Katja? You didn’t get all dressed up for nothing.”

“Yeah, I thought I might be up for something this evening.” She looked back along the boardwalk, her gaze turning distant. “But now that we’re out, I’m not sure…” Her voice trailed off.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “Just one?”

She frowned, but then gave him a wry smile. “Sure. Who can say ‘no’ to a pilot?”

Amanda started to back away.

“Okay then, you kids have fun.”

Jack waved at her. “You still want to go to the matinee tomorrow?”

“I’m going,” she said as she turned away. “Join me if you want.”

“Good night,” Katja called after her. Jack waved a dismissive hand at Amanda’s retreating form.

“She’s a nice girl, but she’s moody sometimes.” He took Katja’s arm in his and started walking toward one of the nearby pubs.

“She’s cute,” Katja said. “When I first saw you, I figured that you two were—”

“Oh, no, no,” he said. “We’re just friends.” He suddenly recalled that women usually became more interested if they thought there was competition. “I don’t want to encourage her.”

Katja laughed. “Oh, my little pilot.”

She hadn’t pulled her arm away, he noticed. Things had changed as soon as Amanda was gone. As they approached the bustling, open-air pub he noticed that there was an hourly special.

“What’s your choice of shooter?” he asked as they sat down at one of the patio tables.

She looked at him strangely. “That’s an odd conversation starter.” She shrugged. “It depends—for close-in, or long-range?”

He was speechless for a moment, wondering if this was some witty retort. Then he was struck with understanding and he laughed, pointing at the menu board on the wall.

“Drink shooters, ma’am. Not bullet shooters.”

She glanced at the board, eyes widening as she realized her mistake. Her lips curled in a smile. “Oh. In that case I’m not picky. Whatever you want.”

The server appeared, and Jack ordered six of the first shooter listed on the board. He didn’t know one from the other, so why not just go with the flow? The patio began filling up quickly, now that the sun was gone, most of the clientele well into their evening drinking activities.

“We’ll have to drink up if we want to stay with this crowd,” he observed.

“I wouldn’t even try.” Katja glanced around in disinterest. “These rich kids probably started boozing at lunchtime.”

Her casual observation was spot on, he thought. Most of the other guests were about his age, all well-dressed and bejeweled. They called out to each other with the easy confidence that came from commanding their personal environments. He doubted whether any of them had ever worked a day in their lives.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he agreed. “I bet their wardrobes alone are worth more than my annual salary.” The shooters arrived and Katja hefted her first with a wry smile.

“Welcome to the life of a veteran, Jack,” she said. “It’s yours forever now.” He clinked his shot glass against hers, and downed the sweet, burning liquid without thought. Then he coughed as the burn flashed up his throat to his cheeks.

Katja laughed at him.

He forced a smile to his lips. “That was good,” he said, choking a little. “I could get used to this veteran life.”

She hefted her second shooter. “Well, in my experience there’s a lot of this.” She downed it and looked around at the crowd.

He followed suit, noting that his vision actually blurred as he set down the second empty. Whatever this stuff was, it was powerful. Kind of like Katja, he thought suddenly.

“You been okay since we got home?” he asked on an impulse.

She looked back at him. “Fine, why?”

“I dunno.” He frowned. He’d wanted to talk about this with someone for a long time, but when the moment arrived, it was hard to find the right words. “It’s kind of a shock, coming home after a deployment like that.” He looked around at the festive crowd. “We go from dodging death to pounding back drinks.”

She nodded, her dark eyes fixing on him.

“Yeah, but just like out there…” She waved vaguely at the stars. “We have to stay strong.”

Sometimes that was the last thing Jack wanted to do.

“But it’s hard, you know, to deal with all the stupid shit.”

A sharp laugh escaped her lips. She reached for her last shooter, then changed her mind and gripped his hand across the table.

“We’re always fighting battles, Jack,” she said, sounding fierce. “Sometimes they just look different. We’ve got to stay strong.” Her fingers were small but powerful around his. He squeezed them tightly, wishing he was as strong as her. He grabbed the last shooter with his free hand.

“To strength.”

She hefted her own glass, and returned his toast before downing the drink.

A guy bumped into Katja from behind, knocking her in her chair. She tensed and her hand slipped away from Jack’s as she straightened herself. The young man turned to face her and apologized, crouching down beside her to make sure she was all right.

Jack took the moment to signal for another half-dozen shooters. They weren’t so bad once you got a few down range.

His pleasant buzz was interrupted by a loud arrival. She was tall and pretty, he noticed, and through all her make-up and jewelry was probably younger than him. Her smooth features twisted angrily, however, at the sight of the guy crouched next to Katja.

Feeling almost detached from the scene—like it was playing out on a screen in front of him—Jack watched as the new girl started berating the guy. He protested his innocence, but as she rebuffed his words with growing scorn, he started to get angry. Katja was still seated, trying to inch her chair away from the rising storm.

Then the newcomer turned her venom on Katja.

“Keep your slutty little hands off him!” the girl said as she pushed Katja’s bare shoulder.

Katja was on her feet in a single, swift motion, chair tumbling backward into the next table. Even in her heels Katja barely reached the shoulders of the other girl, but there was no fear in her eyes. She took a single, slow step back. Jack wondered if he should get up, too.

“Back off,” the guy said, trying to pull his girlfriend away. “I’m not interested in this little tart.”

Katja didn’t flinch at the reference, but Jack felt the heat rising in his own cheeks. Nobody talked about his friend like that. He stood up, and had already taken two steps around the table when Katja motioned him to stay still.

The tall girl looked at him with new scorn.

“And who’s this?” she spat. “Your kid?” Her eyes narrowed menacingly. “Or your client?”

Jack saw the muscles tense under Katja’s bare skin, saw the dark eyes narrow dangerously.

“Let’s go, Jack,” he heard her say with icy calmness. “Nothing good going on here.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” the tall girl said mockingly. “You can go back to his place and play mommy. Maybe get him to—”

Her words were cut off by a single stab of Katja’s hand to her throat. She gasped for air, eyes wide in fear.

Katja let her drop, then rounded the table. Jack stumbled as she took his arm. His own feet nearly tripped him up as she yanked him into motion, exiting the patio before anyone around them really knew what had happened. He got his legs working properly and struggled to keep up with her swift strides. They crossed the boardwalk and reached a taxi stand.

She signaled one over, and the next thing he knew he was being guided through an opening door into the plush rear seat. He expected her to climb in after him, and when she didn’t he looked up at her questioningly.

Katja glanced back toward the pub patio, then shifted her gaze onto him. A smile broke under those dark eyes, and he was intoxicated by the intensity of her expression.

“We didn’t pay for our drinks, Jack,” she said. “I’ll just go sort things out.”

“I’m coming with you.” He tried to climb back out of the cab.

“There’s no need.” She pushed him down against the seat with intimidating strength. “I’m heading home right afterward.” Before he could speak again she pressed a finger hard against his lips. “That’s an order, subbie. I don’t want you getting all heroic on me.”

She didn’t need a gun, he realized, to be able to scare the shit out of him. He nodded, trying to turn his alcohol-fogged mind to the question of what directions to give the cab.

“Thanks for a fun night,” he said. “Maybe we could get together tomorrow?”

“Sure.” She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. It was just a brush of lips, so fast he had to convince himself it had happened. “You’re a great kid, Jack. See you again.” The cab door closed as she retreated. He watched her stride back down toward the patio, pausing only to remove her high heels and place one in each hand.

20

She lifted her head off the cold, sticky surface, but vertigo swept over her again like a wave. Her right hand gripped cold metal, while her left hand pressed frantically for purchase against the hard surface spread out before her.

The muffled sounds of the battle mixed with flashes of weapons fire as her troopers died all around her. She shut her eyes tight, but she could still see the silvery glint of Centauri war machines. Rockets and heavy slugs crashed overhead, almost drowning out the screams.

Katja gasped and heaved herself off the floor of the cell, shaking the hallucination. She fought to keep her stomach down as her vision slowly stopped spinning. Shivers ran up and down her exposed skin. She wrapped her arms around her knees and carefully lifted her eyes.

The cell was tiny, bars on one side, cot, sink, and toilet. The floor all around her was sticky with vomit. She peeled a few long strands of blonde hair off her face and looked down at her tattered black dress. She released a long, deep breath, trying to grab hold of reality.

She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder one more time. The walls were solid. No one was trying to kill her.

She shivered again, debating if she had the ability to climb onto the cot and drape the blanket over herself. Her body screamed for sleep, but the terror of the nightmare made her resist. Eventually she unfolded her limbs and crawled on hands and knees to the cot. As her head hit the built-in pillow she vaguely remembered that she wanted to get the blanket.

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