by Dennis Young
Talice only stared. She glanced aside to the monitor drawing sketchy lines in yellow. Only a few were green. A couple were even red. “Did I…”
“No. We got you in before you technically expired, but it was touch and go for a while.”
“…When?”
“Two days ago.” Babs sat beside Talice’s bed. “Look. You’ve got something toxic in your system and we’re working on it. Right now, you’re stabilized and gonna be okay.”
“I’ve never been sick a day in my life.”
Babs nodded gently. “First time for everything, Lieutenant. Remember that thing we dug out of your arm on Crius?”
Talice closed her eyes, thinking. That worm? “Yeah, the one you wanted to put back in, right?”
Babs nodded. “Well, whatever it was, it left something behind. We don’t think it laid eggs, but the germs it carried seem to really like sopping up every bit of moisture in your body.”
“But… you can get rid of it… right?”
“We’re working on it. For now, since you’re awake, we can talk about treatment, if nothing else. Our Cemlac-12 seems to be holding it in abeyance for now. We should know more in twenty-four hours. Until then.” She tapped on the bed rail. “You’re guest of the best hospital on Base.”
“Cemlac-12? That’s military-grade magic! And this is the only hospital on Base, Babs.”
“Yep. Which makes it the best. On both counts.” She rose and held a hand to Talice.
“When can I get out of here? I’m an officer, remember?” Talice took Babs’s hand weakly.
“And you have an orderly who is running the office well, thank you very much. Not to mention Mac, who’s sort of looking after things, too.”
“Mac?” Talice smiled. “How’s she doing?”
“Scooting around in her hoverchair like a pro.” Babs looked at the monitor, then her crono-implant. “Look, I gotta make my rounds. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. You rest. That’s an order from your doctor.”
“Who’s my doctor?”
“Me.” Babs pointed a slender finger at the bed. “Rest, Lieutenant Wyloh. I’ll take good care of you and your bugs.”
* * *
There wasn’t any pain, only tiredness. No discomfort, unless you counted her muscles feeling like the proverbial wet noodle. Her mind still was somewhere else most of the time, but as the day wore on, and medtechs changed the bags of whatever-it-was on the IV hangar, she began to feel a bit better. Clearer. And more worried.
Babs stopped by twice more, checked Talice’s vitals, gave her a smile, and was gone. That night, someone came in while she was asleep, changed the IVs again, and before Talice could even wake up enough to say anything, was gone again. Hours passed, slowly. But they passed.
Morning, and Babs rolled back the curtain again. With her was Captain Adams. And Major Fawkes. All looking like this wasn’t a cordial visit.
Talice waited, breathless.
“You’re looking better, Lieutenant,” said Adams, unconvincingly. He glanced to Fawkes, then back. “You’re going to recover, but we wanted to talk with you for a bit. Your doctor says you’ll be discharged in a couple of days, and we’ll have your office ready for you then.”
A couple of days? Ready? For what? Talice started to speak, but her voice was nothing but a croak. Babs offered water, and she drank it all, then laid her head back again. “Sir, thank you, but… please give me the straight news.”
“Explain to her, Doctor,” said Fawkes quietly.
Babs met Talice’s eyes with reluctance. “Whatever is in your system isn’t something we can identify… yet. In the meantime, as I told you before, the Cemlac-12 keeps it to a manageable level. Dehydration is the major concern right now, because if we can’t control that, nothing else matters. This… thing will literally dry your organs out, Talice. It’s nasty. Frankly, we’ve never seen anything like it. But we have super-hydration fluids you can take orally every day, and a Cemlac-12 patch. Between those two, you can live a… normal life.”
Talice watched their faces, all grim. “Define a normal life, please,” she finally whispered.
“We’re taking you off the line, Lieutenant,” said Adams. “You’ll be reassigned as training liaison and observer. You’ll work with me in that capacity.”
Talice swallowed. “For how long. Sir?”
“Until we can kill this thing,” answered Babs. “Otherwise, in time, it will kill you.”
“And if you’re in the field without access to your meds, you’re in danger,” added Adams.
“And a danger to the mission.” Talice finished the sentence Adams wouldn’t. Her jaw clenched, and her throat tightened around words she knew she couldn’t speak. Angry tears gathered in her eyes. Dammit. Dammit to hell! Dammit!!
CHAPTER FIVE
Here and Now (Part Two)
A Change of Venue
“In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.”
Sun Tzu, “The Art of War”
A Meeting of the Minds…
It was late, and The Olde Place nearly empty. Two nights after meeting with Mac, Talice sat at a corner hightop with Nikolay Polivanov, relaxed and happy, a nearly-empty pitcher between them. They’d met at 2000 Hours, eight o’clock as the civilians would say, and with midnight approaching, neither showed an urgency to leave. They had not seen each other since before Talice’s discharge, and finally the discussion turned to that very subject.
“As I recall,” said Nikolay, three empty vodka shots at his elbow, “you spoke of a long and glorious career in the Marines.”
“And you were bucking for Commandant of the Corps, right?” Talice smiled wistfully. “Seems neither of us kept our promises.”
He waved it off. “Ah, twelve years was enough. I thought of continuing, but guns and exploding things hold no interest for me. My captain was more interested in jumping out of flyers and making things go boom.” He shook his head sadly. “His last mission, he made himself go boom.”
“What?” Talice gaped.
Nikolay chuckled.
Talice began a laugh, cut if off. “He… what?” She simply couldn’t get the words out. Finally, they were both laughing with tears running down.
Nikolay wiped his eyes and drained the last drops from his fourth shot. “He thought to jump with grenades in both hands. Set the timers and pushed the igniter buttons before he jumped.” He laughed again as Talice shook her head in disbelief. “He forgot to allow for drift and apparently lost count. Boom.”
They laughed together again, finally ending with Talice’s head against his shoulder. Once more, they wiped their eyes. She drained the pitcher into their glasses, waived for the server, and ordered two vodka shots, then raised hers as they were delivered. “A toast, to Captain Boom!”
“Captain Boom,” repeated Nikolay quietly. “Hua!”
“Hua!” Talice tossed off her vodka as Nikolay did the same with his, then set down his glass.
“You know, I have never understood this word,” he said.
Talice gave him a glance. “What word?”
“This ‘Hua’, that is said so much.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Are you kidding? Heard, Understood, Acknowledged. It’s code, Niky, used in the field. Sometimes we don’t have time for lengthy discussions.”
“But there is ‘Copy’, which I understand, or ‘Check’, and some ancient numbers as ‘10-4’. This ‘Hua’ is strange.”
She shrugged. “It’s military, and pretty ancient itself. And you were the least military Marine I’ve ever known.”
He nodded acknowledgement. “I shall take that as a complement. Thank you.”
“Geez, I’ve missed you,” she said, flushed of face and grinning.
“And you, dear lady. I thought to contact you, but was not certain of our… relationship.”
Talice’s shoulders drooped a bit. “Niky, you’re my friend. We shared so many great times. How would you ever not know?”
He nodded. “Yet
once beyond the dreams we left behind, I thought to speak to you of other things.”
Talice perked up quickly. “Such as?”
Nikolay glanced around the vacant tables and the inattentive barista. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You now are what some call a free-lancer. A soldier of fortune, to say, and one who lives off the misfortune of others.”
Talice waited a beat before she answered. “While technically that may be true, it’s not the only thing we… I’m doing. I have opportunities for government contracts.”
He nodded again. “Still, work much like that of the Marines, yes? Things going boom?” He raised an eyebrow, but Talice let it pass.
Nikolay continued. “I, myself, have been looking for opportunities as well. I care nothing for the, how is it you say, corporation world? The lack of creative thinking there is even worse than in the military. I have thought to begin a company of my own, yet lack the funds to do so. And as well, I have little use for creditmarks other than to feed myself and share time with…” He met her eyes. “Friends. Those whom I have come to trust and know will understand my feelings.”
Talice sighed and laid her hand atop his. “This is why I care about you, Niky. You’re such a damned altruist.” Her lips drew into a thin line. “I tried to charm you into my bed once, and you fended me off like a pro. Disappointed the hell out of me.” She sighed at his blushing.
Her eyes lit up. “You’re looking for a job!”
He nodded slightly. “I have heard through the vine of grapes you are reassessing your fortunes. And you have, ah, ‘convinced’ others to provide necessary funding for your adventures. Yet you need more.”
Talice showed a crooked smile. “And that would be you and your talents, right?”
“As you say. Many of those you would seek to oppose have talents of their own, or hire them. It is a good way to be certain your information is correct and complete.”
“Intel.” Talice looked away. Mac… she said she had other names. Nikolay must be one of them. “Yeah, we had a bit of trouble in that department.” She met his eyes again. “What’s your price?”
He shrugged again. “No more than any others. A fair share, and with some missions, perhaps I can begin that business of my own. Then I will be doing the recruiting.” He smiled.
“This is a long-term deal, Niky. I’m talking five years, maybe more.”
He touched her hand that still lay atop his. “And it is my hope for a long and glorious campaign, Captain. But still, I am not good at making things go boom.”
Talice chuckled. “Don’t worry. I have plenty of help doing that.”
* * *
“Low lights.” Talice closed her apartment door and shrugged away her jacket. Lights filtered on in the room and she sat, thinking of the conversation with Nikolay and what it might mean to have him on the team.
Her thoughts drifted back to her discharge. She wished he hadn’t brought it up, but knew eventually he would ask about it. At least we were alone, no puzzled looks or questions. And I really didn’t say much, but he seemed to understand it was private. Good guy. Maybe too good.
Her mind cast back…
Six months behind a desk had been five too many. While she still partook of daily PT and occasional platoon maneuvers, her system simply couldn’t take more than three days in a row. The super-hydration fluids helped, and the Cemlac-12 patches seemed to be working, but there were days she felt old. Slow. Sore. Decrepit. She hated it.
She began to hate not just the circumstance, but even the training liaison position, which had turned out to be little more than a title. Trainers were expected to demonstrate the correct methods for not getting one’s self killed or maimed to those entering Trooper training. Her first experience had been nearly disastrous. After that, she was no longer allowed to participate. Or observe.
She’d spoken with her OIC, Captain Adams, then Major Fawkes. Tried to talk them around. Spoke with Babs, her doctor, about progress on her affliction. They were all adamant; no further official training duties other than desk, no maneuvers, only personal and private exercises allowed. And even those were monitored. She was dying. Not only physically, due to the worm, and whatever-the-hell-sickness was now in her system, but mentally, spiritually, emotionally. She was a Marine. And they wouldn’t let her be one.
A trip home had sealed the deal. She’d talked with Dad and he’d offered whatever support she needed, regardless her decision. Mom, too. She was faced with the fact her dream was over. But knew her ability, knowledge, and determination were not.
“There’s a market for what you do,” Dad had said, as they sat by the fireplace and listened to the rain. “It’s not glamorous and structured like the Marines, but it would earn you a living and give you that rush you so desperately need.” He watched her and sipped his coffee.
“Mercenary,” Talice said, grimacing. “That’s what your daughter has come to? A hired gun?”
“When life gives you lemons…”
“Squeeze them, crush them into pulp, mix them with vodka, and drink their souls.” They chuckled together. Talice shrugged. “Got any good contacts?”
Dad’s eyes just twinkled in the firelight. All she wanted to do at that very moment was crawl into his arms like she was five years old again, and cry. But she didn’t. She held it together pretty well, but Dad knew what it was costing her. So he just held her hand and smiled.
She tendered her resignation, saluted Adams and Fawkes for the last time under their command, and signed the discharge papers with a tear in her eye.
They’d bumped her up to Captain. How the hell did Adams swing that? Or was it Fawkes? could only shake her head as she caught a wink from the major.
She hugged her teammates for the last time. “I’ll be in touch,” she told Rory, knowing he was considering not re-upping.
Hopped a metrolink into the city and rented a microtel for the night.
What am I gonna do now? She sat in the bed, surrounded by soft, dim light, staring at the too-close walls…
Her wristcom buzzed, bringing her back to reality and the late hour. Lunch at Harvey’s, 1300 Hours. Mac.
Talice smiled. She’s gotten into this. I guess we really are getting the gang back together. She typed a quick reply and thought about sleep, then remembered her meds. I’m supposed to lay off alcohol before I take it, so I’ll wait until morning. Besides, if I drink that stuff at night, I’m up to pee in two hours.
She retreated to the bed and bath, went through her evening rituals, stripped to almost nothing, and crawled between the blankets. She glanced at the chrono on the nightstand; 0200 Hours.
Got work to do. The team needs a rebuild. Got Rory, Briggs, now Niky, but we need more. Mac’s on it, and I’m glad for her again. Good sergeants sure are a blessing…
* * *
The days went by, and with them, meetings with Mac and prospective team members. Mac confirmed she had put Nikolay on Talice’s trail, though he had been reluctant at first.
“He’s okay and can do the job, but damn, Talice, what do you see in him?” They sat together in a weather-shielded patio at some sleazy bar Mac recommended for their Olde Earth Mexican cuisine.
“What the hell is in a burrito?” Talice asked, picking at her dubious plate with a fork.
“Try the picante and don’t spare it,” replied Mac. “And on the beans, too.”
Talice tried it and nodded, then reached for her Margarita. “Holy crap, that’s hot! But great!” They clinked glasses and called for refills. She savored a few more bites, then pushed the plate away. “I can’t eat like this anymore. I’ve gained a couple of kilos in the last ten days, with these places you recommend. I need exercise.”
“That, or just a lot of good sex,” replied Mac, with a wink.
“Yeah, that’d be great, but it comes with a lot of other stuff, you know. Relationship. More laundry. Snoring.”
“Changing the sheets more often.”
“That, too.” Talice laughed, then b
rought up her SLATE. “We have you, me, Rory, Briggs, Niky, Dosu… you sure about him?”
Mac nodded. “He was in your platoon, stayed another year after your discharge. Eight-year man, follows orders and has fond memories of covering your ass in missions.”
“And Bělinka’s out now? And Ollie Preston, too?”
“Not everyone wants to be a lifer, Talice. For some, it’s an opportunity to gain some experience and schooling. Others just look at it as another responsibility.”
“And others, an escape. Fresh start.” Talice sighed. “Yeah, I met plenty of ’em, believe me.” She munched on chips and “the salsa” Mac recommended. Not bad. Especially with the Margarita in hand. “Who else?”
“Got a young guy, Jian Hsu, Olde Earth Chinese descent. Good family, four-years in the Corps, and great with small arms and hand-to-hand.” She grinned wickedly. “Assassin type if I ever saw one.”
Talice considered, sipping. “Might come in handy. Hope not, but you never know. I’ll meet with him tomorrow.” She thought some more. “What about the guys I had?”
“I’ve thought about that, too. I have some contacts they can use for other jobs. But seriously, this team needed better players.”
“And better intel, but that’s not on Briggs as it turned out. And Scarbach is on board.”
Mac looked up. “About that. I want to meet him, too.”
* * *
Talice, Mac, and Rory entered Scarbach’s office, nodded to Sheila at her desk, noting today she wore a white blouse.
“Tracks don’t show as much,” Talice commented. Mac was laughing as they entered Scarbach’s private domain. They quieted, exchanging glances, waiting for the little weasel to finish a call. He set down the phone and smiled. Nervously, but he smiled.
“Ah… everything going okay, Talice?” His eyes drifted to Mac, avoiding Rory as much as possible.
“This is Mac. She wants to talk.”
Mac drifted her hoverchair to Scarbach’s desk and looked him in the eye. “We appreciate your donation to the cause. I just wanted to offer my thanks.”