“Yeah, I messaged Aiden last night before bed and he hasn’t responded, can we go by his dorm?” she asks.
“We can if you like, it’s a bit late, we’d have to get breakfast on the way,” I say, “What did you message him about?”
“Something about an assignment,” she says, frowning, “It’s not like him not to answer.”
“What did you need with the assignment?” I ask. She knows she can come to me for help; my help is certainly superior to that of an eight year old.
“I just wanted to make sure he didn’t have any questions, I did it a week ago,” she says, sitting down on the edge of my bed.
“I’m glad you completed it, did you sleep well?” I ask, picking up my blouse from where I had it hung on a hanger over the closet door.
“Yes,” she says, looking down at her tablet.
“We’ll get breakfast on the way to the dorms. What game would you like to play?” I ask, buttoning my blouse. My pockets are already loaded for the day, I did that last night when I changed out of my bloodied SBUs and put them in the wash.
“We can do finish the quote---but first can I ask you something?’ she asks, turning off her tablet.
“Of course, you can always ask me anything,” I say, surprised by her hesitation. I have always invited her to be candid with me. she knows that.
“Do you know anything about my mom?” she asks.
“No, nothing, what brought this up?” I ask, frowning, my conversation with Zeigfeld replaying unsummoned on one of the planes of my mind.
“Talking to Billy, and him wanting to meet his parents. It got me thinking about my mum, since I don’t know her. I was wondering if you did,” she says.
“No, I never met her, you were conceived via IVF,” I remind her, “I’m infertile, they collected sperm samples from all of us prior to the operation.”
“I know, but I didn’t know if you ever got to meet her, when I was born, or anything,” she says, looking as though she regrets asking. I don’t want to push her away. She has every right to ask questions.
“No, I didn’t. I don’t even know her name. they simply informed me that a participant who was deemed a good genetic match had been successfully inseminated,” I explain, sitting down next to her, “Then, 248 days later, was the best day of my life---you were born. I had gotten leave, to come planet-side, and waited. They told me you’d been born, healthy. And I got to come and meet you.
“They had you in a nursery, and we----parents who had visitation rights---could come and sit with you as long as we liked. until I had to return to duty, I sat with you everyday. Held you, talked to you, told you your name. Nobody else ever came. I did ask after your mother’s welfare, after the birth, but they said the medical information was private.”
I had been concerned the woman might be unable to have our future children, or unwilling after the ordeal, but they had told me nothing. And apparently she was unable or unwilling because Tess remains an only child. I remember those days. So peaceful. I had been captured by the Isylgyns, only a month before she was born, and I’d made the first deal with them.
Sitting there in that hospital, holding my infant daughter, I’d let my mind race with everything, every possibility for our lives. I’d told her we’d go to the stars together one day. It was the place I loved the most, and I would take her there.
The nurses let me feed Tess few times, I had read manuals on the subject, however actual practice differed from method. The nurses were quite amused at my efforts, and presence in general. Most parents came and went. but I and a few mothers, camped out until our leave was up. Walking the babies around, talking to them. I would take Tess out every night, and show her the stars. I wanted her to know where I was, when we were apart.
Then I had not seen hear again for eight months. She barely recognized me. I was planetside for six months after that, then back in space for a year. Again, she hardly recognized me. that pained me more than anything I’d ever felt before. My own flesh and blood, not knowing me when she looked upon me. I am so glad now she is old enough to read messages, talk to me when we are apart, as opposed to then, when I would beg and bribe nurses and nannies to show her pictures of me, give her my medals to hold, look her in the eyes and desperately tell her I loved her and I was coming back.
“Okay, thanks,” Tess says, “I was just wondering.”
“That’s only natural. I’m sorry I don’t have a better answer,” that’s the truth. now what?
“It’s okay. I’ll meet her when I’m sixteen, I guess. If she wants to meet me,” she says.
“Yes,” I say. So Zeigfeld was right. She does want to know her mum. That isn’t fair, why? Why aren’t I good enough? it’s not that. like she told you. It’s just wanting more people to love her, just like you want more children. She just wants a family. Everybody wants that. Clearly, even you.
“If she doesn’t, how will you feel?” I ask. There’s every possibility the mother will not want to, and I don’t want Tess emotionally scarred.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter,” she says. Ha she is my child. “I’m only curious, because, you know, I am half her.”
“I know, it’s only right to ask. I’ll do some research on genetics today, see what traits we typically inherit from each parent, you do the same, then we’ll compare notes. See how you’re like me and how you’re like her, eh?” I offer. I wish she were all mine. I wish that were possible, somehow, genetically, to actually make her my clone, no corrupting genes.
“All right,” she says, cheering a little, “Can we do it at dinner tonight?”
“Definitely, now, what do you want for breakfast?” I ask, standing up. We’d best be getting on to find out her little friend Aiden is no longer on the mortal coil so we can get her on to class.
I wake up late and groan when I see that it’s after 9. I’ll have to eat on my way to the hospital. I sigh, looking around the flat. After I got done with the police, I only got a few hours of sleep. That is why I sometimes try to cover it up, hide the body, stage a suicide, something of that nature to prevent having to deal with the law enforcement officials. But a nice bloody murder is more fun and sometimes I indulge myself.
I sigh, I’m paying for it now, though. it took me hours to sob my story out to the police. How he’d lured me back to the flat, then tried to murder me. I’d only just managed to kill him, see the bruises on my arms? It was all too easy, the crying damsel in distress they always believe me. I’m dog tired now, though. I want to sleep for another hour, but I have the dishes to put away, I should honestly do laundry as well. I’ll have something good for dinner tonight. I typically do after a job. A murder. Not a job it’s somebody’s life and I don’t get paid. Yes I do. some creep is no longer walking the same streets my daughter is. She’s safe from one more nutcase who wants to hurt my little girl. Not enough, it’s never enough. they’ll always be another one. But at least now, just for today. There’s one less.
Chapter 9
“S
o, about what we were talking about yesterday,” I say, getting in line behind Lt Col Ziegfeld, again. Tom has leave today, I just had the cadets do PT this morning, after flying with me yesterday they were quite pleased just to lift weights and do sit ups while I ran. Now I’ve released them to go and find nourishment at the mess of their choosing; they are to meet me in the library rooms later.
“What?” she asks, cautiously.
“Tess was---asking me about her mum, yesterday---do women have some sort of collective conscious knowing what to bother men with?” I ask, annoyed.
“No,” she laughs, “We don’t.”
“Hmm, you’d say that if you do, if Tom starts talking about it I’ll know all of you and your chromosomes are holding out on me,” I say, accusingly.
“Was Tess all right this morning? I saw there was a report of a murder or possible suicide of one of the cadets. Was it anyone she knew?” she asks, frowning.
“Yes, as it happens, it was a boy she
knew. He’s in her morning class, we were going by his dorm so I could walk the both of them there, when we got there, the IA was there already,” I say, smoothly.
“That’s awful, how did she take it?” she asks.
“Like me,” I say, “She was fine.”
“You still might want to make sure she’s not in shock,” she says.
“No, this pretty much confirmed she’s as much of a sociopath as I am,” I say, picking up my packets of milk. “Now, back to my original question—about what we were talking about yesterday---”
“Yes, you’d never gotten to a question with that,” she points out.
“What do I tell her?” I ask.
“Whom? Tess or her mother?” she asks.
“Either one. Tess, what do I say, yes I could’ve contacted your mum but thing is, I’m a selfish bastard so I didn’t want to---or her mum, hello you carried my child don’t you feel honored?” I ask, annoyed she’s not being any help.
“Yes, okay, definitely neither of those things---so, um, to Tess, just say that since she asked you looked into it. And to her mum, well, you just say that since Tess asked you, you contacted her,” she says.
“Both of them are going to be angry with me for not before this,” I say. And then I lose them both. Mostly Tess. I cannot lose my Tess. Finally that little boy soon to be boyfriend when puberty bowls them over is out of my way and now this.
“You be honest, say you didn’t think of it because you wanted Tess to yourself because you didn’t want to lose her because she’s the only family you have,” she says.
“I wouldn’t forgive somebody that,” I say.
“Thankfully, Titus, everyone is not you,” she says, “Now, what are you going to do?”
“I’ve got her contact information, if it’s still good. I’m going to try to look her up a bit first, you know, see if she’s the sort of person I’d want Tess around, you never know,” I say, defensively. Yes, this is an extended excuse for me to back out.
“That’s a good idea,” she says, “Would you like someone to come with you, when you do meet her?”
“I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” I say.
“No, I’m not volunteering but I think Major Tom would be a nice buffer,” she says.
“How so?” I ask.
“If anyone can come close to understanding you that woman does,” she says.
“I don’t need somebody to explain me,” I say.
“Actually you do---go ask Kip if you don’t believe me,” she says.
“No---all right, having someone there might help, but she’ll be overly cross with me for not doing it in the first place, and she’s overly cross with me as it is,” I say.
“She’ll forgive that you’ve had a change of heart, for Tess’ sake, and for that reason she’ll agree to help—you want to make amends for whatever stupid thoughtless thing you’ve done---”
“We don’t know I did anything---”
“You are perpetually doing something but that’s beside the point---this is an excellent way to show her you understand what an ass you are sometimes,” she says.
“You just have all the answers, don’t you?” I mutter.
“Yes, as I matter of fact I do that’s why you came to talk to me,” she says, sitting down to eat.
“Where’s Ziggy, anyway? Don’t you usually have lunch with him?” I ask, getting out my tablet to read.
“Yes, having lunch with my son is usually preferable to having an admittedly very intelligent conversation with the top of your head---but he has leave today,” she says.
“Really?” I ask. interesting so does Major Tom. No that is absolutely paranoid you’re getting ridiculous Titus. they are flight partners so their leave is always at the same time they are probably doing completely different, mundane things in completely different places.
“Hello,” Ziggy’s voice startles me. I stop in my run, panting a bit.
“Didn’t expect to see you out here,” I say, wiping sweat from my forehead. I went for a run in the public park surrounding Milton. It’s still mostly used by Space Forces, but at least it’s off base so it’s a step. I’m wearing my PT shorts and a PT shirt, I’m never that creative on my RDOs. Ziggy isn’t either, he’s wearing PT shorts as well, but his shirt is something else, has some design on it. his mum got it for him I suspect.
“I like getting off base,” he says, fiddling with his oxygen tank.
“So do I sometimes; I feel like I don’t often enough, then I do, and I don’t feel any different,” I say.
“Still a Spaceman?” he says.
“Yes, exactly,” I say.
“Sometimes I like to pretend I’m something else, but I’m not,” he says.
“No, you are,” I say, studying him, “It’s people like your mum, or Major Card, they were born to do that, us, we were just bred to.”
“I didn’t think about it like that,” he says.
“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s all we are,” I say, shrugging.
“I guess not,” he says, “But----never mind---I won’t keep you from your run.”
“Walk with me, I could do with the company, if you like,” I offer.
“I suppose---I don’t usually talk about things—like this,” he says, falling into step with me, “I hate to bring it up to my mother because I know she wouldn’t understand.”
“No, it’s different being Project 10,” I agree, “Makes you feel---”
“Incomplete?” he offers.
“Yes,” I say.
“Have you ever tried to do anything to be a—person? Ever thought of getting out, having a family, anything like people who aren’t this---do?” he asks.
“I have,” I say, looking away, “Something always stops me, like,----I feel like I wouldn’t know how, or it would be fake, somehow. And honestly, deep down, I don’t want it. I can’t see myself, coming home to some man every night, taking care of a house, and a dog, or kids---that just isn’t me either. I like training the cadets, they are my kids, you know?_---and I haven’t really had feelings, for people---who would be good for me—and I like flying, I enjoy Space Forces I just---”
“Would like to have had a choice?” he asks, “Not have your life completed for you, even if it’s what you want?”
“Yeah, a family wouldn’t be bad---it’s like, just because I don’t want to be married doesn’t mean I don’t want parents or brother or sister or anything,” I say.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he says, “I’m glad I know my mum. She’s fantastic just----”
“Didn’t get to come home every night for tea?” I ask.
“Yeah, exactly,” he says, smiling a little, “It feels good to talk about this most people don’t understand---”
“Or other Project 10s don’t want to admit it,” I say.
“That too,” he says, “Thank you---for admitting it. and not being---I don’t know, weird.”
“You don’t have to thank me for not being weird---oh you’ve been talking to Titus lately, haven’t you?” he has that effect on people.
“Only by accident! He walked up and started talking to me,” he laughs, “I don’t talk to people voluntarily let alone him.”
“No, he’s the sort of thing that just happens to a person,” I say.
“That’s a good way to describe him,” he says, dryly, “No, I try not to let him get to me.”
“You can’t, he’s like an infection,” I say, “Or a pandemic or something, you just have to try to pretend he doesn’t exist, like at all—in order to lead a normal existence.”
“Yeah, nothing against flying with you, but I can’t wait till this rotation is over,” he says.
“Nor can I honestly, I’m not flying the squadrons again, I’m done, I’m sick of seeing my friends die,” I say.
“Yeah, I like being planetside,” he says.
“You didn’t say if you wanted a family, ever,” I say.
“I think so---I’m not doing the Project 10 thin
g so----oh my fucking god---” he sort of grabs my shoulder and staggers, and I look where he is pointing.
There is something hanging from the trees, cut in the crude shape of letters. It takes me a moment to realize that that something is human skin.
The letters spell out
Bon appetite
I take a step backward as well. I have seen plenty of carnage in my life, but battle is far different from the raw violence and psychopathy that resulted in this. I feel bile in my throat and blindly tap my wrist pad.
“Please---please tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Ziggy says.
“I think it’s human flesh,” I say.
“God that’s what I thought it was,” he moans, leaning against me, “oh god, oh god.”
“Let’s just---let’s just call the police,” I say, tapping the emergency code into my wrist pad.
“The fuck---who----what---” Ziggy is still not okay, “What is that?”
“It looks like writing,” I say, as the wrist pad activates the distress signal.
“Who would do something like that?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say, trying to forget the fact that the first thing I wondered was where Titus was. That was stupid and wrong. He wouldn’t hurt people intentionally he didn’t. He is sociopathic but so am I. He’s also a good father and he’s been generally kind to me and he’s a great Spaceman. But why when I saw human skin drapped snarkily in the trees did I immediately think of him?
Do it. Have a good decent relationship where nobody gets stabbed. It would be good for you. it would NOT betray your daughter who doesn’t know who you are she would be glad to have a step parent she doesn’t know you anyway and enjoying this nice piece of humanity would be a good distraction in your weird little monastic life.
“Dr. Darc, good morning,” I say, matching step with him as he walks in.
“Good morning,” he says, looking extremely surprised I’m actually speaking to him voluntarily. Poor thing, he seems sweet. And very conventionally handsome.
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