The message ended, and he took out the E-file and snapped it. He wasn't sure what to tell his mother about the file, but he promised to tell her something rather than nothing. Her lawyer wrote the check, and he used a private telecaster box to ring Rosie.
"What did she say?" Rosie asked.
"Nothing."
"It was about Uther, wasn't it?"
"I guess... I do not want to talk about him."
"You did not deserve such a pig of a father..."
"He is nothing to me." John tugged on the cord, wrapping it around his finger. This was the one topic she couldn't help herself from bringing up when they talked. He was sick of hearing about him.
"Okay. So what is next? Is that all she said?"
"Come pick me up and drive me to the bank so I can cash this. Then if you have time, I wanted to look at a few houses. I am still on leave."
He opened an account, and they showed him some of their houses they were offering. They were outside of what he was willing to spend or in a part of town he didn't care to live in. And so she drove them back to her house. He did a walk around, checking if any sensors had been touched or if any traps had been triggered.
"It is clear, mom."
She unlocked the door and brewed lemon tea. He wandered through the house, back to his old room. She had cleaned up for him, but everything was exactly like he left it. Bending down, he flipped through some of his games. Too many games. Why did she let him waste his time on these things when she should have forced him to study? He came back into the living room and grabbed his tea. John sat on the sofa and started to count his money.
"It is all there." Her eyes looked away.
He counted out ten thousand Edwards in ten stacks of one thousand and piled them next to her. "Here. Jack Backwater needs work. Take this. I still have plenty enough to buy the kind of house I want."
She looked at the stacks and shook her head. "John, really. It is okay. I will be fine."
"Take the money. This house needs help, mom. You cannot live like this."
"Thank you." She hugged him for a while. "I might not use it to upgrade everything, but there are a lot of repairs I need to get done."
"Do you know someone who can help? I know a few guys who could help with defenses."
"Your mom has it covered," Rosie said. "What day do you want to start looking at houses?"
"Not sure yet, but keep an eye out, especially in North Londun. I would rather live in a smaller place and not worry about being robbed than to live in South Londun where these Americans are running around now."
Although he didn't mean to hurt her, he could see in her eyes he just did. "I understand," she said gazing out of her back window. "I trust the King will do something about them soon. Property prices here have plummeted to all-new lows and the murder rate is skyrocketing."
"You know, mom, we can move you closer to the city. There is no reason for you to risk your life by staying out this far."
"Someday. This is my home, son. This is where I nursed you, and where your father died."
He balled his fist and looked out the window. Soon he would be meeting with the Duke and he wondered what civilian life would be like.
* * *
D.K.E.
Day 360
Year 324
2nd Sun Tank Division (For King and Country)
2nd Division Commander: Marshal Richard "The Mad" Paign
1st Battalion Commander: Duke Phillip Sternwood aka Duke Wood
1st Company Commander: Captain Johann (John) Edward Rex
"Captain Rex, we were fortunate to have a man of your caliber as long as we did. We do our best to retain competent officers," Duke Wood said poking at a cube of ice in his whiskey. The tiny, green Plasstien sword fit between his fingers like a needle, and he stabbed at the ice as if they were fish.
"I hate to go, your grace. Not only did I enjoy my time here, I felt like I belonged."
"You do." He lit his pipe, puffing a circle of gray smoke that held in the air. Blowing out the match, he sighed and placed the stub on top of his peppermint tobacco box.
He eased back in his chair. "You know, we understand your situation. I had another officer under my command who had a similar thing happen to him. And like you, he also had a plan to buy a house and start over for himself. To be fair, John, I understand the desire to get out of the military. The 2nd is a unit that sees action almost every day, and the causality rate is the highest in any of our divisions. We're trying to funnel more forces into it and expand the division but resources are scarce."
"The lifestyle never bothered me, your grace. Living like a civilian will take some getting used to."
"Easier than you think, Captain, with the wealth you received." The Duke's eyes read over data on his terminal. "Even after taxes, you will have enough to get a new house and be able to keep a few thousand for something else you might want. If I were you, I would save the Edwards. Houses tend to break during the worst possible times, usually when the temperature drops down, and the repairs are not cheap. And you know about the latest mandatory upgrades. Those can run you in the hundreds, quick. Best thing to do is get the Kingdom to install them. If you end up breaking something while doing the upgrade yourself, you will spend many times that."
"I appreciate the advice, your grace. As far as my grandmother goes, the doctors tried, but they said the strain was just too much. My mother agreed with me. It was the time for her to go, and I zeroed her out."
"I am sorry to hear that but if she is anything like you, I am positive she will be given a rebirth. You lost someone close to you, and so are we. Hopefully, we will cross paths again. I hear you are having a going-away party. I wish I could go. They have me touring some dig site they found near Dublin. We might have a new MECHA-3. Would go a long way in finishing this war."
"Amen, your grace."
"Good luck, John."
"Thank you. For King and Country."
They shook hands, said their goodbyes, and parted ways.
* * *
D.K.E.
Day 038
Year 325
John's party was epic and naturally, Koala had paid for the entire affair, costing him well over twelve thousand Edwards. The gala was held at the luxurious Kingdom Estate where a golf course was set out on the eastern portion of the grounds with heat dispensers keeping it open year round. The property also had a horse ranch and a ten km trail through an artificially created and illegally bio-engineered maze. The plants inside grew and sang a variety of popular music for the adults and vicious battle cries for the children.
A store named Fiona's Delicacies, next to the maze, rented out everything a tourist could want. But John eyed a sign about orange headsets a person used to enhance, "...your Kingdom Estate experience." They sat neatly in ornate wooden display boxes behind a teenage, female clerk who was as ugly as any Institute drill sergeant he'd ever seen. She chewed on a half-meter black licorice rope, smacking away while playing a game of Dead Water 4. John, Neil, and Koala began knocking over merchandise and pushing every customer out of the store.
"Give me three of those," John decided, pointing to the headphones.
"Sorry, only got two left," the clerk chomped. "What you see is what you get. And I expect all three of you to clean up all this stuff."
"Listen up, cutie. We are three. One, two, three. We need three, not two. Find us another one. I will wait." John's expensive Xef's button-up shirt was 2 buttons from being completely open, and a foot-sized whiskey stain drew in everyone's eye. He pulled out a hundred Edward bill. "I will add this in. Just for you, if you hurry. What are these things?"
"An American tradesman came in here a few days ago and sold them to me. He tried to make me promise to keep them behind the counter until three people would come in looking to buy them. Well, I sold one already and I guess you were the three he was talking about. My apologies. However, I am not going to let merchandise just sit around."
"So you blew him off," Neil s
aid in the back of the store. He started knocking random merchandise on the ground and laughing.
"Look at you. Drunkards! Leave before I call Emergency Services!"
Koala unzipped his pants and pissed in the corner. His urine splashed all over everything, and he painted the wall a bright yellow.
"Out!"
Neil grabbed the telecaster she was holding and threw it across the room. "Let's go Koala. Quit yer pissing."
They stumbled out, dodged the coppers for an hour, and entered into a small inn specializing in fruity drinks spiked with Jumper Juice, a mild amphetamine.
Daring each other, each one tried to out drink the other until everyone knew Koala was going to win. But before they were done, the bartender waved his hand across the counter. "Hey boys, let us call it there. That will be 356 Edwards."
Neil's mouth fell open.
"Petty Edwards!" After John overpaid, he led them down the street to a busy music hall. Walls of black and white ice slated marble stretched from floor to ceiling in unnatural ways. Five bands played, including The Beatles who had three top ten hits out. John's favorite was, "I Saw It Over There," and they played it twice at his request tipping them out 50 Edwards for each song he liked.
"Hey guys, wait here. I'm going to use that telecaster over there and order us some entertainment, Koala style." The conversation didn't take him long, and he laughed into the unit before nulling it out and joining John and Neil. "They'll be here soon."
Roman girls entered the hall, wearing glossy leather tops and see-through bottoms. There wasn't much left to the imagination other than what the girls were capable of doing, and even that was pretty obvious. John resisted their advances but slid them Edwards anyway. A few of them offered to do something give him a free one, a kind of pity sex given to someone who will never have intercourse again for the rest of their life. He laughed them off and dismissed them with a wave of his hand.
And the more the girls pushed, the more annoyed John became. He'd given away 300 in under an hour. After that, he started threatening them, giving one a dark bruise on her arm and telling her to tell everyone else to leave him alone.
Only one other person bothered him. The man wore a black Happer suit with a concealed, twin barreled smart .45 pistol and a poison dart gun disguised as a pin under his platinum Roman watch. "Your constant singing is out of tune old boy. You really should observe some proper manners so we can enjoy the show."
Koala picked up a bottle of Tangery Whiskey and smashed it down on his head, shattering the bottle. John and his friends dragged him outside and took off his expensive watch and tossed it in the gutter.
"You picked the wrong day to protest my singing. Look at you, wearing a Roman watch and complaining about my voice!" John reached in the man's vest and withdrew his pistol. "I bet you have never even shot this thing."
"Let's toss him in the gutter!" Koala exclaimed.
"Yes!" Neil replied.
"Let him go. He is not worth the bother. You are lucky I am this drunk."
The man sprinted off.
When they reentered the bar, the room became still and everyone started whispering. John took a few steps back and waved everyone off.
"My name is Captain John Rex, and if you would like a war story, follow me outside."
Over half the bar got up and followed him outside. He raised his glass and quieted the crowd. "What I am about to tell you is classified. Now everyone shut the hell up. Make sure your damn drink is full. Raise your drink to the stars. Now say, 'For King and Country!'"
"For King and Country!" they consented.
"Good, good. If you didn't, I was going to have to shoot you. If you wanted to know what it'sss like to be innn the finest military unit in the Kingdom, thenn there yoouu hav' it." No one laughed. "Okay, time t'be serious. I am the Captain. Damn it." He slammed his drink home feeling the burn. He missed the Black Watch. "I was the acting Captain of the 1st Company of the 2nd Sun Tank Division. When we were..." and the story began. It was filled with dramatic tension and horror and a ton of mistruths and flat-out lies. They all loved it though, even if some of them didn't believe a word he said.
28 Rosie's Decision
She dressed up for him, wearing a one-piece turquoise dress with a high collar and open sleeves. The hemline stopped just above her knee, and her lips matched her dress. Her hand steadied as she drew a thick line across her lash. She searched around the house, finally finding the matching handbag in a sealed box tucked away in a closet she hadn't opened in years. Her eyes fixated on the price tag still stuck to the dress. 150 Edwards. U-Roam's were expensive, but the interior heating pads made them worth it.
The house chimed and she ran to the window to look outside. He looked dashing wearing black slacks with the same patent leather shoes she'd seen him wear before. His loose fitting black shirt concealed his body too well, and she squinted in frustration. At least he hadn't laced the front up all the way, and his muscles stood out. He wasn't hairy either, she thanked St. George. She stopped for a moment and smiled at him from the window. He looked great and so did she.
Rosie went outside and locked her door, checking it twice to make sure it was secure. His ride was nice—a beige, polished Ovr 317 with silver fins and Poxy wheel covers. Reg pressed a button on his key ring and both the doors opened. She got inside. Soft strings and brass played over the door and rear speakers.
"So I do not know if you wanted to see Lamorays or not." Reginald drove with one hand and was adjusting the sound with the other. "Obviously, I have a tab there and pay the bare minimum. You can drink as much as you like. The food there is incredible, I have to say. Tonight's special is Tilapia in a garlic lemon sauce. Or I can take you to Barkman's Steakhouse. This week they were able to raid several American encampments. Their menu has been updated to include prime beef. Their drink menu is limited though. More of a restaurant. Or was there some place you had in mind? Is the music okay?"
Was he going to stop talking for a half a second? She pinched her throat. "Music is fine. My son has the ear for it, not me. Can you keep driving? I want to say a few things out loud to you." Her eyes glanced out into the city. Neon glitter signs passed by, along with hundreds of speeding grav autocrafts meters above her head. As she looked out toward downtown, some of the lights nulled out.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No, and I would love it if you were to keep quiet for a minute. It is hard for me to talk, and I am questioning my sanity for even doing this." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting the air out slowly.
She waited for him to say something so she could tell him to be quiet again, but he didn't. "I was married once to a guy who turned out to be an enemy of the Kingdom. He had the worst drug habits you could possibly imagine. Anyway... Actually, would you mind if we went someplace and had a few drinks?"
"Not at all. Do you have a place in mind?"
"The first place you see will be lovely."
He started to dial in the data on the Ovr's terminal when she touched his hand and clicked off the device. "The first place you see, Reg."
He turned off the freeway and drove down several streets, driving over potholes and cracks in the road. On the right side, she spied a tavern called Trophy's at the same time he did, and he pulled over and parked. The white paint peeled back in every direction like loose bark on a dying tree, and the window had been sheeted up with yellowing Plasstien. He held the door for her again, and she turned around and winked at him.
A chipped cream-colored statue of an old American Apache General greeted them. The paint on his hands and the feathers on top of his head were rubbed off. The General's eyes opened and he bowed slightly before playing his pre-recorded message. "Welcome to Trophy's! Will the two of you be eating with us tonight?"
"Yes, probably." He answered.
A blurry image pixilated from a holoprojector and guided them to their table. 12 large faux transparent pillars, filled with exotic breeds of ocean fish, stood in the center
of the room, drew her attention. In other tanks, original species of fish swam in contentment. A wooden stage filled the far side of the room with cheap speakers set up on rickety wooden benches.
A haze of thick jaga smoke weed filled the room with its earthly stank, and her eyes stung a little. They were seated but moved to a booth, and both of them argued about wanting to face the front door. She won.
After they sat, the image bowed slightly and turned green.
"I will have your table whiskey. Straight."
"And let me get a Marshmallow." Reginald said. His eyes locked on the menu.
The image blinked out for a moment, nodded, and turned yellow. "Your drinks will be ready for you in 60 seconds. Who is the primary?"
"I am," He reached into his wallet, and she scanned his credit I.D. card.
"Will that be all?"
"Yes."
"Thank you. If you have need of me, please press the button in the center of the table. Good evening." It pixilated out.
Rosie observed the room. Only four other people were inside: a filthy man with long stringy hair sat at the bar drinking a glass of milk and picked at his teeth, and in another booth, three women, no younger than 50, wore sand brown overalls, straw hats, and played cards.
A floating translucent red tray appeared on the bar. The holographic bartender gave her mustache a twirl and used a holo-device to carry two drinks over to a silver tray in the "Ready Drink" section. A green blinking light flashed on their table. Reginald went and brought the drinks back.
"Cheers," he said.
"Here is to you, Reg." She whispered back. She liked the way he drank. Her husband would always stick out his pinky finger, and it made him look like a woman.
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