Finish the Fight: Echoes of War Book Seven

by Gibbs, Daniel

  “I’m sure you don’t. But I thought we had a connection… and now seemed like the appropriate time to explore it. Dinner and a holovid. Nothing crazy.” There was a pregnant pause. For a moment, Kenneth thought the vidlink had dropped.

  She stared at him through the tablet, still mute. With a glance off-screen and back, Owens finally smiled. “Okay. Dinner and a holovid.” After a moment, she continued. “Do you mind if I ask why you're not already married with children?”

  “Wow. Not even to the first date, and we’re getting into the heavy questions.” Kenneth chuckled. “The truth? I’ve been too focused on work, with the war and all, to have a relationship. Any I tried to have, I messed up.” He glanced down. “I’m determined not to do that anymore.”

  “Have you made any changes?”

  “I leave work by 1700 hours daily now.” Kenneth grinned. “My mother used to say that tomorrow will be no different, unless you change today.”

  Owens laughed. “I’m going to remember that one. I like it.”

  “Hopefully enough to do a second date.”

  “Don’t press your luck, yet, anyway.”

  There was something about her warm smile that made him feel great. Kenneth couldn’t put a finger on it, but it almost felt as if kindness radiated out from her. “I take it you’re still on Churchill?”

  “I am.”

  “So send your address, and I’ll drop by at seven to pick you up?”

  “Sounds good.” Her mouth curled into a grin. “I have to be home by ten, though. It’s a school night.”

  “Deal.”

  “Okay. See you tonight, then.”

  Before he could respond, the screen blinked off. Kenneth found himself thinking back to previous relationships, and how he’d lived his life. While he didn’t regret his devotion to the Coalition Defense Force, going home to an empty apartment got old. Staring death in the face had forced some difficult introspection. The realization that aside from those he worked with, no one would probably show up for his funeral was a harsh one—something I can only blame myself for. And something only I can fix. He went back to work, determined to wrap up by five and enjoy himself tonight. Who knew where it would lead?

  28

  David’s alarm blared at 0430, like it did every morning he was on duty. He reached over and slapped it off with the wave of his hand. Ninety minutes later, he’d exercised, showered, shaved, and eaten a hearty breakfast in the officers’ mess. The Lion of Judah would be departing Canaan at 1000 hours, so he had plenty of time to get some paperwork done. Such were his thoughts as he stepped into the gravlift that would deposit him on deck one.

  Just as the doors started to close, another soldier squeezed through and stood next to him. “Good morning, sir,” the voice of a young man said.

  “Good morning,” David began, and glanced to his right to confirm the other’s rank before continuing. “Private…” His voice trailed off as he recognized the man. Private Waters? That’s impossible. He’s dead.

  “Well, yes, he is,” Waters replied, a bright smile on his face. “But I’m not Private Waters.”

  David reached for the gravlift controls to trigger an emergency alert. As he did, his hand seemed to stop in mid-motion, despite the clear commands his brain was giving. Panic started to take over. Have I been poisoned? What the heck is going on here?

  “No, you haven’t. I mean you no harm, David ben-Levi Cohen. I’m here to talk.”

  It took David a moment to realize he hadn’t spoken, and what whoever was in the gravlift with him was responding to his thoughts. “Who are you?” He finally managed to get out.

  “I am that I am.”

  David’s jaw dropped open, and he stared at the figure who had Waters’ appearance. It took him only a moment to reach the conclusion he was talking to God—again. It’s the only thing that remotely makes sense. He dropped to his knees and closed his eyes in the process. As he started to pray in Hebrew, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “I came to talk to you, David ben-Levi Cohen. Stand.”

  “But—”

  “Stand. Or would you defy the words of the Lord your God?”

  David quickly got to his feet. Unable to think of any other way to show respect, his body went rigid, at attention. He gulped.

  “As I said, I came to talk to you.”

  “Why? Why me of all people? Isn’t there someone more worthy for You to talk to?”

  “Because I can see you are still searching for answers. And I decided to answer some of them.”

  “I—” David paused. “I still don’t understand.”

  The other man laughed. “Which part?”

  “Was the League auxiliary losing control and flying into Seville’s flagship directly caused by You?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I struggle. I want to believe it was You. At the same time, if it was, I wonder why it was so late.”

  Waters shrugged. “It was me.”

  “Then why? Why did you let us get to the brink of absolute defeat?” David stood there, shocked at what came out of his mouth. I don’t have the right to talk like that to the Almighty.

  “Humans, and all races, have the freedom to make your own choices. That’s the entire point of this universe. I don’t decide what you do, nor do I play a puppet master. You brought yourselves to the brink of defeat, but I always have a plan.” Waters crossed his arms in front of him. “Think about it for a moment. If you and the rest of your compatriots had defeated the League by yourselves through force of arms, you might think… we did this. Instead of putting your faith in God, you would put your faith in technology and your own devices, even more than you already do.”

  David kicked the words around in his mind. They made perfect sense. “But, if you know everything that will happen before it does, how do we have free choice?”

  “I don’t know what you’ll do before you do it. I do know every possible permutation of every possible event, at any given time in the universe.”

  The sheer vastness of what He said caused David to pause, and a chill went down his spine. “I can’t even conceive of that.”

  “No human or any other corporeal race in this universe can.”

  “If You wanted us to put our faith in You, why not intervene in a larger way? There’s no proof it was God. I’m sure many think it was just good luck,” David replied. He was still in shock. The concept of having a conversation with God, in the flesh, was enough to blow anyone’s mind.

  Waters tilted his head to one side. “Like, put a black hole in the middle of the League fleet to suck them up, while sending a message to every ship around that they were witnessing the power of God?”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” David said, his tone dark. “Everyone would know. There would be no denying it.”

  He held up a hand. “That is precisely what I do not want.”

  “I don’t understand.” David was, in truth, bewildered. Wasn’t inspiring faith and worship one of the core aspects of what God wanted from humanity?

  “You confuse faith with obligation. If I were to prove for sure who and what I am, people would be obligated to believe. They wouldn’t have faith; they would know. They might even take aggressive action in My name and cause physical harm to those who wouldn’t believe it… something I detest. I give them the choice, and I want them to choose. A choice already made is no choice at all.”

  “But the stories of time past in the Torah. You brought plagues, manifested in a pillar of fire…”

  Waters smiled. “Before the advent of your technology, yes. My, as you would say, playbook was quite open. There were no recording devices. Only a person’s word that others had to take on faith. Now I prefer to deal with humanity on a human-by-human basis. Miracles occur every day, but they’re of a more personal nature. The one you experienced, for instance.”

  “That was personal?” David stared at him.

  “Very. You challenged me. I responded.”

  The very
concept that God had answered David’s prayer went through him like a bullet. He’d prayed for so long, but never had what others claimed—a deep relationship with the Almighty. And here He was, telling David the entire point of it had been a personal engagement. “What of everyone else?”

  “I look after every being. Every race. Even the ones who reject me.”

  Something came to David’s mind that had troubled him for years. “Back during the battle of Unity Station… who did I talk to after I broke down in the shul?”

  “Who do you think you spoke to?” Waters again smiled, the warmth from it filling the gravlift.

  “I…” David’s voice trailed off. “There was no one there when I turned around to thank Private Waters.”

  “No. He died the day before. And what I told you then still stands. A good man is never alone in this universe.” Waters put his hand on David’s shoulder. “No matter how bad it is, how dark the night, I will never abandon you.”

  David struggled with the revelations he’d just received, and his mind tried to think logically. “I can’t understand why you don’t help us more.”

  “I help you constantly. All of you,” Waters replied, an eyebrow raised.

  “How?”

  “Allow me to illustrate. Suppose you are caught in a flood and need evacuation. You pray, and a friend drops by your home in a helicar, offering you a ride, which you decline and say you're still praying for God’s help. Someone else comes by in a boat, after the water rises. Instead of climbing in, you tell them you’re still praying. Finally, a shuttle comes and throws down a ladder. You refuse and say God will save you. Well, what do you think I say when you reach me and ask why I didn’t help?”

  A grin came to David’s face. He’d heard variations on the joke many times before. “You tell them you sent a helicar, a boat, and a shuttle, and why didn’t they take it.”

  Waters chuckled. “I do like that analogy. You see, I use other people to enact my will as much as the universe itself.”

  “There’s so much I want to ask… that I want to understand.”

  “I am afraid that is all the answers you’ll be getting today, David ben-Levi Cohen,” Waters replied, and smiled with a warmth that seemed all-encompassing. “I believe you have a ship to launch.”

  David stared at him. “What will become of us now?”

  “As I said, there is a plan that I’ve laid out. But it’s your God-given right to screw it up, as usual.” He chuckled. “What you want to know is what’s next for you. The answer to that question is complex, but suffice it to say, I’m not done with you yet, David. You have many things to do and miles to go before your journey is over.” He paused for a moment, reached out, and squeezed David’s shoulder. “You fought the good fight, David. You finished the race and kept the faith. Shalom, and Godspeed.”

  A second later, Waters was gone. No bright light, no shower of sparks, no indication he’d ever been there in the first place. It registered in David’s mind that there was a moment when he was there, and the next moment, he wasn’t. Am I losing my mind? His heart pounded as his mind raced with thought. It’s certainly easier to accept I’m insane than that I spoke with God.

  The gravlift arrived at deck one, and its doors opened smoothly. David didn’t get off. He found himself weak in the knees, more so than he could ever remember being. Am I losing it? I have to know for sure. “Computer, redirect gravlift to deck eight, section fourteen.” The doors closed, and he felt it move. The seconds ticked by before he arrived at the requested stop.

  David walked out and made his way down to the passageway toward the ship’s main security office. It was an area of the vessel he rarely went. He strode in through the double hatch and stopped in front of the desk for the on-duty master-at-arms.

  The young woman—a corporal—glanced up, took in who it was, and sprang to her feet. “Ah, General, sir, I apologize. I didn’t expect you down here.”

  “At ease,” David replied. “Do you have a moment?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “I’d like to the security footage for the gravlift to deck one, coming from deck six, officers’ country. Fifteen minutes ago.”

  She stood up and strode over to a bank of screens, touching rapidly on the control interface. “Yes, sir, one moment.”

  Static and digital snow appeared on the monitors. “Is there a problem?”

  “I’m sorry sir, we’re having a glitch here.” She tapped furiously on the monitor and pulled up a different feed, from the corridor outside the lift. It, too, showed static. “Um. All cameras in the area were offline, sir. I can’t pull up anything.” The young woman turned around with a red face. “What were you looking for, sir? I’ll have a maintenance crew sent out immediately. We don’t have failures like that on the Lion.”

  David cracked a smile. “Nothing, Corporal. Don’t worry about it. Carry on.” Without another word, he turned and walked back into the passageway. A shiver again went down his spine as he considered what had just happened. He briefly thought about going to his office, but instead decided to visit the shul. To give thanks. As he strode into the gravlift, the enormity of what he’d just experienced hit him. I spoke to God. He now had something that few other humans ever did: an unshakeable belief and faith in a higher power backed up by physical proof. At least to me.

  * * *

  Justin Spencer glanced in the mirror as he washed his hands. This job ages you in ways one can’t imagine. His face had a lot more frown lines on it than it had just a few years before. If he didn’t color his hair, it would be completely gray. He chuckled at the thought as he strode out of the bathroom and back toward the Oval Office, trailed by his ever-present protective detail. Edwardo Fuentes was already sitting on one of the two leather couches. Spencer nodded toward the agents, who stayed at the door and closed it behind him.

  “Ed, thanks for coming. Especially on short notice.”

  “When the President calls, we all answer.”

  Spencer laughed loudly and sat down across from him. “I wish it were that simple.” He stared into Fuentes’ eyes. “I’ve heard some rumblings you’re planning to resign.”

  A grimace sprang up on Fuentes’ face. “I apologize. I wanted you to hear that from me. My chief of staff can be—”

  “—loud-mouthed. Just like mine.”

  “I suppose there’s not much to say. We needed to come together for the good of the Terran Coalition. I’ve realized, though, I wouldn’t have won without the League interfering in our election. I have no right to be here, and as much as I’d love to lead us forward with my vision of how our system should work, I’m also not a hypocrite.” Fuentes spread his hands out in front of him, on his lap. “You’re the better choice, Justin, to help put us back together again. The speech you gave to the Congress convinced me of that.”

  “You have no idea how much it means to me, to hear a man who was once my arch political enemy say that,” Spencer replied as he sucked in a breath.

  “Justin, you deserve a vice president that shares your beliefs and values.”

  “Do you believe in a strong, prosperous Terran Coalition, where our citizens have the freedom to choose their path in life, and we stand united together?” Spencer asked, his eyes locked back on to Fuentes.

  “Of course.”

  “Then you share my beliefs and values.”

  Fuentes cracked a grin. “It’s not that simple, and you know it. We’re polar opposites on practically every issue. You favor low taxes, limited government, and what I’d consider to be an overly strong military. I want higher taxes, more government, and constraints on the military-industrial complex. How could we possibly work together?”

  “Here’s what I know,” Spencer began. “For the last year, the League of Sol successfully turned friends against each other, broke up families, and sowed more sectarian strife than our nation has seen in centuries. It’s not enough to stop them—which we’ve done with our victory. We must heal.”

  “And
how do we do that?” Fuentes pursed his lips together.

  “I don’t know. I do know that I don’t have a monopoly on good ideas, and I believe it's vital you stay on as my vice president. At least for a couple of years.”

  Fuentes sat back and stroked his chin. “It’s tempting, Justin. But I fear we’d eventually become enemies, working against each other. You are the one with the power… the vice presidency, it's mostly ceremonial.”

  “It’s a seat at the table. I’d give you my word you would be included in all major decisions, and our cabinet would feature members from both sides of the aisle.”

  “The transportation secretary isn’t exactly a power broker.”

  Spencer laughed. He’s always on point. “I was thinking we’d divide it down the middle, and I’ll start by giving you the defense secretary pick.”

  “Okay. You’ve got my attention. Still, it would be messy. Our respective staffs don’t see eye to eye. They’ve been at one another’s throats for the last year. Saying it’s hard is the understatement of the century.”

  He’s right. Spencer nodded as the wheels in his mind turned. It would be challenging to get opposing political sides to work together, but he was convinced it was the only way to truly save the Terran Coalition. To restore how things used to be. “I’ve never turned down a difficult task in my life, and neither have you, Ed.”

  “What the hell. I’ll probably get thrown out of my own party for this, but why not?” Fuentes smiled broadly. “You’re right. If we can get along, anyone can. We’ll probably have to fire some of our most loyal staffers, though.”

  “No. They’ll come around, if we set an example and refuse to allow them room to get off track.” Spencer stood. “Let’s schedule a joint news conference and announce our plans. Say, 1500 hours?”

  Fuentes stood as well and extended his arm. “I serve at the pleasure of the President, sir.”

  With a grin, Spencer leaned in and embraced him instead of shaking. “We both serve at the pleasure of our citizens.”