Wings

by Fearadhach MecRaudri

  She glanced sidelong at him, giving him another of those half-smiles, and he realized just how good at her job she could be as they both chuckled. She had just taken everything he said, admitted to it herself, allowed the two of them share the discomfort they both felt, and made just enough of a joke at the same time. He returned the half smile, tilting his head toward her in a sideways nod. A bit more relief passed over him as the crisis between the two of them faded, and a new sense of camaraderie replaced it. He felt glad for it. They were going to need it in just a few moments. His left hand opened the door to the office, and he stepped aside to let the lady in first.

  He still felt a hint of nervousness over the smoky look in her eyes. He just hoped she hadn’t realized that he’d seen. There were any number of reasons for her to want to keep those feelings secret, some of them were even good ones. There were almost as many reasons for her to pursue the relationship, though. If she knew that he knew, they would likely feel compelled to sit down and go through all of those reasons, on both sides of the issue. That place belonged to someone far closer to her. He just hoped that she knew.

  ***

  Lucas leaned back in his chair and made a final review of the report on the raid. It had gone exceedingly well, not that he had expected anything different. The material they brought turned out to be both better and worse than expected, but war happened that way sometimes. The weapons were military-grade, some of the best stuff that could be obtained on Kethelmar, but the meat vats were useless. They had been stripped down to become oversized genetic sample preservation units. Jared and his team were going through the genetic material found inside, but they didn’t know yet whether the things were a plant for The Column to find, or some corporate secrets being smuggled between factions. Neither would explain why something like that had been placed at a surface facility, deep valley or no. Despite the lack of a land route to the place, it had been a ripe target for flyers.

  One thing about the report which disturbed him, however. The valley walls were narrower and deeper than expected. The men who went had trouble staying out of each other’s way, and there had been a few near-collisions. If he had gone, things would likely have gone differently, and for the worse. Pilken had hidden this fact in careful wording, but even that careful wording could not hide the facts; especially with the footage from their holocrecorders. He would have made one too many flyers in too tight a space, and someone would have gotten shot. It wouldn’t have been him, that much he knew, which only made it worse.

  Even before the speech they had heard in the prep room those men would have acted to protect him at the expense of their own safety…He closed his eyes and silently thanked the Captain’s Chair for protecting his men from his folly.

  Lucas considered not telling his friends, but rejected the idea quickly as it came up. They were good people, and dear friends. They didn’t deserve that sort of petty information withholding. The method and timing of their presentation may have been infuriating, but he had to acknowledge that they were right. The time for him to attend every possible mission had long since passed. It had been a necessary thing for a long time, for one reason or another, but now it could not be risked. As galling as he found considering his life more important than others, no choice remained. The Column would not die without him, but it would falter. He had become a symbol both to those within The Column and those Outside.

  Granted, Outside they loathed, feared, and despised that symbol, but Sharon had ideas to turn that weakness into a strength.

  He had no doubts that she could do so. One could ask for no greater mastermind of PR than Sharon. Her ability to turn a phrase such that it grabbed hold of your consciousness and did not let go until it had been analyzed and stored. She was indispensable to him, as was Torfan. That man had helped him turn this lone Sanctuary into Column HQ, and kept it running like a clock. This let his administrative personnel who lived here focus on keeping the millions hidden in the various nooks and crannies of Kethelmar safe. He loved them both, and needed their council. He just needed it without confrontation. Well, confrontation in front of others.

  A knock on the door pulled him out of his reverie and a moment later they entered, Torfan holding the door for Sharon. He could see by their easy movements near each other that they’d worked out their differences. At least that had worked. Bad enough that he had to be upset with them, having them upset with one another would make this even more difficult. Both appeared slightly apprehensive, which evened things up a bit. He felt rather apprehensive as well.

  Lucas set down his pad and began speaking as soon as the door shut. “Well, I see that the two of you have resolved your differences, whatever they were. Don’t look surprised. I am aware of things that go on around here, and you two aren’t the only ones who talk to me. Anyway, I’m glad that the trick of timing the elevators worked.” He chuckled at the astonishment on their faces. “Yes, I did that on purpose. I’ll owe a favor to a couple of the guys down in maintenance for a while now, I’m guessing. Still, it needed to be done.” Torfan blinked a few times in surprise, looking a bit confused. Sharon planted her hands on her hips, fixing him with a stare which attempted to drill him into the back of his chair. He could see her setting up her arguments, watched her chest draw a breath to speak. He waved a hand at her and leaned back in his chair.

  “You can stop that look now, Sharon. After the way the two of you ambushed me in front of my men, I don’t think you have much to complain about.” He allowed himself the satisfaction of watching her deflate a bit, chagrined. He smiled to take the sting out his remarks, gestured to the chairs before his desk. “So, now that the two of you have a new-found camaraderie, we can get on to the things I called the two of you here about.

  “First off, I’ve been off sulking long enough. It is very hard to get me that angry, and when I do it tends to take a few days to calm down. Of course, there is a fairly short list of things that will get me angry like that, and the two items at the top are myself being blind to the truth and being challenged in front of my men. Especially when that challenge could cost lives.

  “I have to admit, however, that you two were right. It is time for me to step away from going on these missions personally when it can be avoided. The modern commander does not lead from the front, because the chain of command is more important than what he can do, and the inspiration he can provide on the battlefield.

  “So, I have decided to drastically scale back on my direct presence on missions. To that end I have ordered some upgrades to the ‘situation room’, as it is called, including a number of holographic displays. I have also ordered that all of our fighters to be equipped with communications gear which will relay enough data to provide information for those holograms. Even if I can’t be on these missions, I still want real-time updates. Not reports two days later.”

  He sighed heavily, leaned his chair back a bit, and clasped his hands behind his head. “You were also correct about this mission in more ways than you know. I read the report and looked at the data feeds from Pilken’s gear. That valley was smaller than we had believed, and one more person in there would have been too many. Someone would almost certainly have gotten shot, or there would have been a collision. I must admit that you were right on two counts, both the general and the specific. I shudder to think what might have happened if there had been one more flyer present.

  “I have gotten over being angry with myself, and at the two of you both for being right when I was wrong and for pushing me on it. You acted out of careful reasoning, and in the best interests of The Column.

  “However…” his hands came sailing out from behind his head and he sprang forward out of his chair. He bounded up to loom over them as his fists crashed into the desk hard enough to make everything in the room, including the occupants, jump. His bellow filled the small space: “IF THE TWO OF YOU, EVER, EVER UNDERMINE ME IN FRONT OF MY MEN LIKE THAT AGAIN, THE PHRASE ‘THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY’ DOESN'T BEGIN TO COVER WHAT WILL HAPPEN!!”


  He backed off enough that he no longer loomed, and allowed the red rage to seep from his face, “You should, by now, know that I am perfectly willing, even that I wish to, listen to whatever you have to say. In private. To bring something you should have told me in private up in front of others was out of line. To do so in a military situation was damned near a betrayal.

  “If it had been just about anyone but the two of you, or if I even thought you were acting at the behest of the council…” A short sigh of relief came from each of them, helping him relax a little. They were relieved that he knew they’d acted on their own, meaning the council did not put them up to it. He took what small comfort he could. That small reaction also told him that they knew how badly his reaction could have gone, had been willing to accept the risk, but had chosen not to risk others.

  Seeing them worried for others at a time like this took the fury out of him. His hands came off the desk and he stood, head and shoulders slumped, shaking his head slowly. His hands went to his eyes, and he half sat, half fell into his chair. He sat slumped in his chair for a short time, let his hand fall from his eyes to a place along his armrest. They could, finally, see the personal feeling of betrayal they had caused, and were cut to the bone.

  Torfan averted his eyes, staring at the paneling on the front of the desk. His pose said it all, how he hated what he’d had to do, but had known he lacked any choice, and he would do it again if he had to. Specks of water appeared at the corners of the man’s eyes as he contemplated the damage done to his friend and their friendship.

  These thoughts passed almost like words between the two men, but the hardness in Torfan’s eyes conveyed the fact that he would do it again, if necessary. Lucas loved this about the man. Some men made their sacrifices by realizing that something had to be done, then counting the cost later, but not Torfan. He would count the cost, know what he would be giving up, but would pay the price if he had to. He would hurt, even agonize over it, but he would not falter.

  Tears began to seep from Sharon’s eyes, then to flow freely, but she did not look away. She did not so much as flinch, even for an instant. Her lips quivered as she spoke. Her voice sounded small, but also steady and strong, “We tried, Lucas. We tried. By Crash, Captain and Rescue, we tried. In a thousand tiny ways, we tried. By coming out and discussing the matter with you, we tried. Both of us, individually, tried. Over and over, we tried. In long conversations, we tried. In little hints, we tried. How many times had you and I discussed the subject? How many times had Torfan mentioned how much it would cost The Column if it lost you, that putting yourself at risk that way put all we have worked for at risk? By The Captain’s Chair and The Rescue, Lucas, we tried.

  “But it was all for naught.” He recalled those conversations all too vividly, now. He had to admit that they had, indeed, tried. That realization felt like cold water on the embers of his anger and pain, but the water ignited new anger. They had tried, failed, decided that he hadn’t listened, and so had forced his hand! His feelings of being nearly betrayed fell over into betrayal. Hot words were stalled, but only stalled, by seeing that Sharon had followed all of his changes in emotion and that she had seen the feeling of betrayal settle into his features. He then saw those feelings cut her, deeply, and his hot reply stilled as the whole world seemed, for one moment of terrifying clarity, to come to a grinding halt.

  She loved him.

  He could see the scythe of his emotion travel across her features, and cut into the most private, sheltered parts of her soul. He couldn’t decide what scared him more, that the feelings were there in her, or that he could feel the embers of such feelings in himself. His heart began to beat again and the world returned to movement as he grasped that she hadn’t seen his new revelations… all she saw had been his sense of betrayal. His rage warred with his confusion, but he had no time to examine his emotions as Sharon continued.

  “You did listen to us, Lucas, you did. In the safety of our private conversations it was too easy for you to counter our arguments. You had hours, even days to argue with yourself over the points we presented to you. You knew we were right, but it was too much for you to stay behind. How could you? How could you allow yourself to sit by while men risked their lives at your command? What kind of man would you be? You’d be no better than Them. No better than those we struggle against.”

  The truth of her words battered against his conflicted rage. They pushed the red fog to the edges of his mind, but it pressed to get back in. “So, you think so little of me that, instead of telling me this, you had to trap me? You know well the responsibilities I took on here.” His words began to increase in volume and force as the haze pushed back in. “I have to be more than that. I can’t afford to let my ego get in my way, and that is what I rely on the two of you for! I can’t allow myself the luxury of…”

  Torfan moved only his mouth, his face remained fixed on the front of the desk, “being human? It was not your ego which argued and fought against us, my friend.”

  Sharon picked up the ball as Torfan’s voice began to wobble and the tears finally came. Her body had never moved, not even her eyes. That piercing blue stare radiated her pain to him, yet made no accusation. “It was your conscience. If it had been your ego, we would have been far less gentle, if necessary. Battering down your ego is something we have done, which you allow the two of us to do. It is a function we both serve for you, and serve it gladly. We love you for it, as you love us for it. Your conscience, however… that we can’t batter down. That is what truly drives you, my dear friend. When your conscience is convinced of a course of action, you will not waver from it. Each time we tried, each time we had you convinced, you would relent…for a while. Your conscience is one of the strongest forces within you, Lucas, and that is why we follow you. Our arguments would hold the truth in front of you for a while, but only a while. The insistence of your conscience, whether it was right or wrong, gradually causes you to bring in new rationalizations.

  “We had to force you to examine that conscience, and the reasoning driving it, and make you re-examine its underlying assumptions. We had to force a crisis, make you decide in front of others so that you could not back down. Only after being shaken up and forced onto a new path were you able to bring the realizations into your core, to reassess your conscience with the new understanding.

  “I would have done it differently if I could find a way, but I could not.” She finally looked away as shame crossed her features. “For failing to find a better way, and for that alone, do I apologize. I still search for a different way to have done that, but have not found it.”

  Those piercing blue eyes came back to his, but her face stayed angled down. The pain in her gaze hardened to resolve and acceptance as she continued, “There is one last thing you should know, however. Torfan went in there over his own objections. It’s true that I didn’t know he planned to force your hand, but I am still the one who insisted he come. I had intended to use him as silent support. He wanted to catch you sooner, before the men were there. I refused to allow that, however, and made him wait until the time we came in. The timing was mine, and mine alone.”

  Lucas’s felt anger boiling up once again, but it stopped when he saw Torfan begin to make a move of protest, trying to prevent Sharon from taking all the blame on herself. This, the two of them throwing themselves under the bus to save the other, put the final quench to his rage. A certain curiosity as to whether Torfan had seen Sharon’s feelings for him welled up, but it didn’t matter. She would sacrifice even that in order to save Torfan, and he would sacrifice all the years they’d had to save her. He knew himself to be as precious to them as family, but they were willing to go through the grief themselves rather than put the other through it, even though each barely knew the other.

  The red darkness of his anger poured out of him, taking his strength with it. He slumped in his chair, and the crying finally began. His eyes closed and his head sank back to the headrest, “I hadn’t realized just how h
urt I was by what you two did. How betrayed I felt. Not until right now, when you have given me what I need to forgive you. You both sit there ready to throw yourselves under the bus for the cause, and to sacrifice your friendship with me to preserve the other. Despite all that our friendship means to each of you.”

  With his feelings of betrayal released, he re-examined Sharon’s words and found the truth in them. He opened his eyes and saw that there were tears all around. A great love for his two friends surged inside him, pushing his face into a smile. “You did what you had to do, and you were right. I am sorry I was so hard headed, and that I pressed against you two so hard when you were right.”

  Torfan finally looked up from his silent tears. He did not bother to wipe his eyes before he spoke, “You have nothing to apologize for, my friend. Neither do we. One of your greatest qualities is that you will do what you believe is right and best for us all, come what may. You were doing what you had to do, and so were we. There is no way this could have happened any differently. All we can do from here is move forward.”

  “Yes, we must move forward, my dear friends. That we must.” His smile finally came to his eyes as he rose to his feet, motioning for them to remain seated. He opened a cabinet to reveal several bottles of liquor, moved those aside, reached to the back, and brought forth a very old bottle of scotch. Torfan recognized the bottle immediately and sprang out of his chair to produce three glasses. Lucas filled the glasses and kept one for himself as Torfan handed the other to Sharon with a wink.

  Lucas raised his glass and Sharon stood to be on the level with her friends, but it Torfan managed to make the toast, “To true friendship, to the bonds between us which have weathered this storm, to the bonds that will carry us forward.”

  Sharon smiled and nodded, “Here, here!”