Old Man's War Boxed Set 1 (60 page)

Zoë screamed when there was a big roar that shook her room so hard she fell right off her bed and her TV came off the wall. Nanny came over to see if she was okay, but Zoë pushed it away. She didn’t want Nanny, she wanted Daddy, and sure enough in just a minute he came through the door, sweeping her up in his arms and reassuring her and telling her that everything was going to be all right. Then he set her down and said to her that in just a few minutes Mr. Jared would be coming for her and she had to do what Mr. Jared said, but for now to stay in her room and with Nanny, because she would be safe there.

Zoë cried again for a minute and told Daddy that she didn’t want him to leave, and he said that he would never leave her again. It didn’t make sense because Mr. Jared was coming to get her in just a minute to take her away, but it made her feel better anyway. Then Daddy spoke to Nanny and left. Nanny went into the living room and came back holding one of those guns the Obin used. This was weird because as far as Zoë knew Nanny never used a weapon before. There were no more explosions but every once in a while Zoë could hear gunfire, going
pop pop pop
somewhere outside. Zoë got back on her bed, clutched Celeste and waited for Mr. Jared.

Nanny gave out a shriek and raised the weapon at something Zoë couldn’t see and then ran out from the doorway. Zoë screamed and hid under the bed, crying, remembering what it was like at Covell and wondering if those chicken things were going to come get her again like they did there. She heard some thumping in the next room and then a scream. Zoë covered her ears and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again there were a pair of feet in the room, coming over to the bed. Zoë put a hand over her mouth to be quiet, but couldn’t help a whimper or two. Then the feet became knees and hands and arms, and then a sideways head appeared and said something. Zoë squealed and tried to back out from underneath the bed, clutching Celeste, but as soon as she popped out the woman grabbed her and held her. Zoë kicked and screamed, and it was only after a while that Zoë realized that the woman was saying her name over and over again.

“It’s all right, Zoë,” the woman was saying. “It’s all right. Shhhh. Shhhh. It’s all right.”

Zoë eventually stopped trying to get away and turned her head around. “Where’s my daddy?” she said. “Where’s Mr. Jared?”

“They both really busy right now,” the woman said, still holding Zoë. “They told me to come get you and make sure you were all right. I’m Miss Jane.”

“Daddy said I had to wait here until Mr. Jared came to get me,” Zoë said.

“I know he did,” Miss Jane said. “But right now they both have things they have to do. There’s a lot going on right now, and it’s keeping both of them from coming to find you. That’s why they sent me, to keep you safe.”

“Nanny keeps me safe,” Zoë said.

“Nanny was called away,” Miss Jane said. “It’s really busy here right now.”

“I heard something really loud,” Zoë offered.

“Well, that’s one of the things keeping everybody busy,” Miss Jane said.

“Okay,” Zoë said, doubtfully.

“Now, Zoë,” Miss Jane said. “What I want you to do is put your arms around my shoulders, and your legs around my waist, hold on to me
real
tight, and keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them. Can you do that?”

“Uh-huh,” Zoë said. “But how will I hold Celeste?”

“Well, let’s put her in between you and me right here,” Miss Jane said, and put Celeste between her tummy and Zoë’s.

“She’ll get squished,” Zoë said.

“I know,” Miss Jane said. “But it’ll be all right. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” Zoë said.

“Then close your eyes and hold on real tight,” Miss Jane said, and Zoë did, even though when they walked out of her bedroom Zoë’s eyes hadn’t closed yet and as they came into the living room Zoë saw what looked like Nanny sleeping on the floor. Then Zoë closed her eyes all the way and waited for Miss Jane to tell her to open them again.

The Obin Sagan had encountered in the science building largely avoided her, leading her to believe they were mostly specialized as scientists, but every now and again one of them would try to engage her with a weapon or try attacking her physically. The quarters were too close to wield the awkward Obin rifle with any sort of accuracy; Sagan stuck with the knife and being quick. This approach failed her when the Obin babysitting Zoë nearly took off her head; Sagan threw the knife at the Obin to distract it and then launched herself at it, fighting it out hand to hand. Sagan knew she was lucky that while they were rolling on the floor the Obin got a leg caught up in the furniture; it gave her just enough time to squirm out of its grip, get on top of it and strangle the thing to death. With Zoë collected and held in the crook of her arm, it was time to get out.

::Harvey,:: Sagan said.

::Kind of busy right now,:: Harvey said. Through her integration Sagan could see him fighting his way toward a new hovercraft; he crashed his previous one into an airship that was trying to get off the ground and kill him from above.

::I’ve got the target and I need support. And a ride.::

::Five minutes and you’ll have both,:: Harvey said. ::Just don’t rush me.::

::I’m rushing you,:: Sagan said, and then stopped the conversation. The hallway in front of Boutin’s apartment led north, past Boutin’s lab, and east, into other parts of the building. The lab hallway would connect her quicker to where Harvey could pick them up, but Sagan didn’t want to risk Zoë seeing either her father or Jared as they went by. Sagan sighed, went back into the apartment, and retrieved the Obin weapon, felt it balance awkwardly in her grip. It was a two-handed weapon, and the hands were meant to be Obin, not human. Sagan hoped that everyone had abandoned the building or would be busy going after Harvey, and that she wouldn’t have to use it.

She had to use it three times, the third time using it to batter an Obin when the ammunition ran out. The Obin screamed. So did Zoë, each time Sagan had to use the weapon. But she kept her eyes shut, like she promised.

Sagan reached the place where she came into the building, a blown-out window on the first floor of a stairwell. ::Where are you?:: she said to Harvey.

::Believe it or not, the Obin aren’t keen to give me their equipment,:: Harvey sent. ::Stop bugging me. I’ll be there soon.::

“Are we safe yet?” Zoë asked, her voice muffled from her head being buried in Sagan’s neck.

“Not yet,” Sagan said. “Soon, Zoë.”

“I want my daddy,” Zoë said.

“I know, Zoë,” Sagan said. “Shhh.”

From the floors above Sagan heard movement.

Come on, Harvey,
Sagan thought.
Get moving
.

The Obin were really beginning to piss Harvey off. Mowing down a couple dozen of them in the mess hall had been a uniquely satisfying experience, to be sure—cathartic, particularly in light of how the Obin bastards killed off most of the 2nd Platoon. And ramming the little hovercraft into that airship had held its own special pleasures. But once Harvey was on foot, he began to realize just how many of those damn Obin there were, and how much more difficult it was to manage them when one was hoofing it. And then here was Sagan—integrated again, and that was a good thing—but telling him she needed a
ride
. As if he weren’t
busy
.

She’s the boss,
Harvey said. Getting one of the parked hovercraft was proving to be difficult; the Obin had them in a yard with only one way in. But there were at least two of them out and around, looking for him.

And look,
Harvey said, as one zoomed into view,
here comes one now
. Harvey had been crouched down and trying to be inconspicuous, but now he stepped out where he could be seen and waved his hands broadly. “Hey!” Harvey yelled. “Asshole! Come get me, you creepy fuck!”

Whether by hearing him or seeing him move, the Obin operating the hovercraft turned toward Harvey.
Okay,
Harvey thought.
Now what the fuck do I do?

The first order of business, it turned out, was jumping clear of the stream of fléchettes that blasted out of the hovercraft’s gun. Harvey rolled, came out of the roll prone and lined up his Obin weapon to shoot at the now-receding Obin. Harvey’s first shot wasn’t even close; the second took off the back of the Obin’s head.

That’s why you wear a helmet, jackass,
Harvey thought, and went to retrieve his prize and then retrieve Sagan. Along the way a number of Obin on foot tried to do to Harvey what he had done to the Obin previously driving the hovercraft. Harvey preferred to run them down rather than shoot them, but he wasn’t picky.

::Ride’s here,:: Harvey said to Sagan, and then was more than a little surprised to see what Sagan was carrying. ::That’s a kid,:: he said.

::I know that,:: Sagan said, positioning Zoë securely on the hovercraft. ::Get to the capture pod as fast as you can.:: Harvey accelerated to full speed and fled straight. There didn’t seem to be any immediate chase.

::I thought we were supposed to bring back Boutin,:: Harvey said.

::Change of plans,:: Sagan said.

::Where’s Boutin?:: Harvey asked.

::Dirac’s taking care of him,:: Sagan said.

::Dirac,:: Harvey said, surprised again. ::I figured he was dead.::

::I’m pretty sure he is,:: Sagan said.

::Then how is he going to take care of Boutin?:: Harvey said.

::I have no idea,:: Sagan said. ::I just know he will.::

Boutin opened his eyes in a brand-new body.

Well, not brand-new,
he corrected.
Gently used
.

His Obin assistant opened his crèche and helped him out of it; Boutin took a few tentative steps and then a few non-tentative ones. Boutin looked around the lab and was fascinated to see how much more vibrant and engaging it was; it was if his senses had been at low volume all his life and then were suddenly cranked up to full. Even a science lab looked good.

Boutin looked over to his old body, which was brain-dead but still breathing; it would die of its own accord in a few hours or a day at most. Boutin would use this new body’s capabilities to record its death and then take the evidence with him to the capture pod, along with his daughter.
If the pod’s still there,
he quickly amended; it was clear that the Special Forces squad they had captured had somehow escaped. One of them might have taken it back.
Well,
Boutin thought,
that’s fine
. He was already spinning an alternative story in his head, one in which he—as Dirac—killed Boutin. The Obin, denied their prize of consciousness, would stop the war and give Dirac permission to leave with Boutin’s body and Zoë.

Hmmmm, that’s not
quite
believable,
Boutin thought. He’d have to work out the details. Whatever story he thought of, however—

Boutin suddenly became aware of a small image flitting across his field of vision. It was a picture of an envelope.

You have a message from Jared Dirac, read a block of text that appeared in the bottom of his field of view. To open it, say “open.”

“Open,” Boutin said out loud. This was curious.

The envelope opened and then faded. Rather than a text message, it was a voice message.

“Hello, Boutin,” it said, in a simulated voice that sounded just like Dirac—sounded just like
him
now, actually, Boutin corrected. “I see that you have gone ahead and taken this body. But before I go, I thought I’d just leave you some final thoughts.

“A wise creature once told me that it was important to make choices,” the voice continued. “Through much of my short life I made no choices at all, or at least no choices of consequence. But now at the end of my life, I am faced with a choice. I can’t choose whether to live or die—you have made that choice for me. But when you told me that I had no choice but to help you with your plans, you made a mistake. I do have a choice, and I’ve made it.

“My choice is not to help you. I can’t judge whether the Colonial Union is the best government for humanity; I didn’t have the time to learn everything I should have learned about it. But I choose not to risk the deaths of millions or even billions by helping you engineer its overthrow. It may be that this will ultimately be the wrong decision to have made. But it is my decision, the one I think that best allows me to do what I was born to do. To keep humanity safe.

“There is some irony here, Boutin, in that you and I share so many of the same thoughts, share a common consciousness, and perhaps share the same goal of doing the best for our people—and yet with all we have in common, we have reached opposite conclusions on how to do that. I wish we had had more time between us, that I had been able to meet you as a friend and a brother instead of what I became to you, a vessel to pour yourself into. It’s too late for that now. Too late for me, and although you don’t realize it, too late for you also.

“Be that as it may, I want to thank you. For better or for worse, I was alive because of you, and for a brief time, I was able to experience the joys and sorrows this life has to offer. And I was able to meet and love Zoë, who I pray now will find a way to be safe. I owe you my life, Charles, just as I owe you my death.