“Wow.”
“What?”
“You’re a genuine wordsmith, Dallas. Poetry just spews out of your mouth.”
“I’m serious. It’s not as if either of you are in committed relationships. You’re not tied down to anyone. What’s the holdup?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“I know you’re not gay.”
“Can we change the subject?”
“You don’t find her attractive?”
“Haley?”
“Yeah. Haley. You’re not into Asian women? Is that it?”
Kettle frowned and shook his head. “No, that’s not it.”
“What then? She not cute enough for you?”
“Christ, Dallas. You’re not going to give up until I tell you, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine.” He let out a long sigh before continuing. “I just don’t think it’d be a good idea if her and I, you know, got together.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Umm, it’s kind of hard to put into words. It’s more intuition than anything else.”
“Nope,” Dallas said. “Not taking that for an answer.”
“Okay, do you remember when we were on the Epoch?”
“Of course, garbage man.”
“I wasn’t finished, jarhead.” Kettle shifted in his chair and started again. “Do you remember when we were on the Epoch and the pirates had that rule where no members of the crew were allowed to have sex with each other?”
“The fuck-not rule.”
“Yeah. That.” The topic made Kettle uncomfortable, not only because talking to Dallas about anything sex-related inevitably led to crude Marine humor, but also because Dallas had broken the rule by sleeping with Shen. Kettle wanted to steer well clear of reminiscing about the Lavic plotter. She had ended up being dragged behind the ship until the sharks ripped her apart, which wasn’t entirely Dallas’ fault, but he had to shoulder some of the blame.
“We’re not on the Epoch anymore,” Dallas pointed out.
“Yeah, I know. It’s just that . . . well . . . I think that in my mind, I still consider all of us to be part of the same crew. We’re almost like a weird family or something. I know that sounds silly, and I’m a bit embarrassed to say it, but I feel like everything we’ve been through has bonded us together. Know what I mean?”
Dallas paused and bit a chunk out of something that looked and tasted similar to cauliflower. He chewed and then, with his mouth still partially full, asked, “I’m like a brother to you?”
“An annoying brother that asks too many questions, but yeah.” Kettle smiled as he said it, and he was satisfied to see Dallas smile back.
“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. We need to look out for each other.”
“Exactly, and there’s a part of me that feels that if Haley and I, you know . . .”
“Bumped bellies? Varnished the pole? Played hide the hotdog?”
“. . . slept together, we’d make things awkward. At worst, it’d break up our family.”
Dallas shook his head again. “You’re overthinking it, man. I’ve seen how she looks at you. She’s into you. She wants you. And I’m pretty sure you’d like her to slime your banana.”
“Again with the poetry.”
“Seriously, I dig your family analogy – I’m with you – but in her case, incest might be best.”
“You’d make a horrible family counselor.”
“That’s why I’m a Marine. I’m done eating. Let’s go.”
“What? Where are we going?”
Dallas was already standing up, tray in hand. “We’re going to go get Haley and Soup and head to the base pub.”
“They have a pub here?”
“Yep. Dr. Mallik told me about it. The way he described it, it sounded almost like the Brit Club back on Diego Garcia.”
The mention of the old Brit Club stirred Kettle’s memory and made him a little nostalgic. The hangout was his favorite place on the whole atoll. “That sounds awesome, but I don’t know if I should drink. You know, I have that whole mission thing tomorrow.”
“Shut up. You’re coming. We’ll share a couple beers together. The four of us need to blow off some steam and relax for a while. It’ll be just what the doctor ordered. You can get to know Haley a little better, and Soup and I can start hitting on the ARCOB girls.”
Kettle followed Dallas to the tray return and then out the main door. Despite his better judgment, he conceded that perhaps Dallas had a good point. He tried to remember the last time he was able to just lean back in a chair with friends and enjoy a slice of life. His mind drifted to the balcony at the Broken Hull overlooking the Myffa’s Cove, where he shared an ale and a few good laughs with Haley. So much had happened since then.
“You can be my wingman,” Dallas stated as they walked down the hallway toward the elevator, as if he were granting Kettle a special privilege. “Not that I need one. But if you get the chance, tell the girls in the bar that I kicked some ass on VGCP Eleven.”
“You know, it’s ironic.”
“What’s that?”
“The American government spent who knows how much money and time training you to go on dangerous missions in enemy territory. I was trained to be a sanitation technician. And tomorrow, I’m the one infiltrating forbidden territory, and you’ll be . . .”
“. . . waking up beside a buxom young lass,” Dallas finished. “The irony is not lost on me, but if tonight goes well, I won’t be complaining.”
“Yeah, I guess not.”
“Don’t worry. That Colonel Caurfo guy seems to know his stuff. You’ll be all right.”
Kettle hoped so.
They rode the elevator up to the floor where there living quarters were situated. Roy told them a feeble joke about suspicious trees being shady. When the doors opened, they were happy to exit quickly before Roy could attempt to redeem himself.
“Haley still in her room?” Dallas asked.
“How should I know?”
“All right, let’s get Soup first.”
“Which one is it?”
“This one here,” Dallas said, pointing to a dark green door with a white ID number stenciled on it. “He’s sharing a room with me. Guess they only give single rooms out to important Zero Stock-types like you and Haley. Hey, if you hook up with Haley tonight, can you sleep at her place and give me your room?”
Kettle thought about Dallas having sex on his bed. “Hell no.”
“Loser.”
As soon as Dallas got close to his door, it emitted a soft triple-beep, indicating that it had sensed him coming and the door was now unlocked. Dallas turned the handle and barged into the room, shouting, “C’mon, buddy. We’re going drinking. Get your ass off . . . Whoa! Whoops!”
Kettle, who had followed Dallas into the room, took in the scene. There were two beds in the room. One was empty. Haley and Soup were in the other. Together. Under the sheets. Sweating. With Haley on top. And their clothes in a heap on the floor.
“Umm, hi guys,” Soup said sheepishly. Haley looked to be experiencing a mixed bag of embarrassment, annoyance, anger and unadulterated pleasure.
Dallas turned to Kettle and whispered, “Never mind all that stuff I said earlier.”
1.10 KETTLE
The Kye-shiv 2.0 descended toward the valley floor until its armored belly was a hundred meters above the tree tops. The stealth engine was engaged, and, according to Colonel Caurfo, they were about fifty kilometers from the Yensh border and closing. Caurfo had assured them the latest satellite images confirmed a viable path of ingress that would allow the Kye-shiv to cross through Yenshian airspace all the way to the outskirts of ZS 1607, where they would land and cover the last four kilometers on foot.
The sun wouldn’t be up for another couple of hours, but the display wall between the cockpit and the rest of the ship had night vision. Now and again, they saw clusters of lights marking small settlements off to their left or right; the pilot was careful not to pass
directly overhead. To the right of the display, a mess of flight and ground analysis data continually auto-adjusted as the Kye-shiv sped towards its destination.
Kettle, strangely enough, wasn’t concerned with any of this. He should have been feeling butterflies or at the very least reflecting on the video footage he had seen of the last Zero Stock entering the weird caves. Instead, his mind was busy developing strategies that would enable him, with great tact and charm, to overcome the heavy awkwardness that now existed between himself and Haley, who was sitting in the seat immediately opposite. He had been working on this for the majority of the flight and was failing miserably. Even worse, he sensed that the longer he waited to broach the subject, the more tact and charm he would need to bring to bear.
I’m being stupid, he chided himself. Haley was a grown woman; she could sleep with whoever she wanted to. She wasn’t beholden to any rules or regulations. Soup, too. Any feelings of bitterness that Kettle felt toward the youngest member of their group were at best misplaced and at worst malicious. If Soup and Haley find comfort in each other’s arms, I should be happy for them. That would be the adult response.
He didn’t feel happy though. He felt bitter.
“Hey, Kettle.”
He looked up, startled at hearing her voice. “Yeah?”
“How long are you planning to give me the silent treatment?”
“I’m not giving you the silent treatment,” he lied and immediately regretted it. I’m being so stupid. He tried to put a casual expression on his face. “I was just thinking about stuff.”
“Like what stuff?”
“The mission.” He hoped he sounded professional but doubted it.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“The mission?”
“No, not the mission.”
“Not really, no.”
She paused and frowned. “You’re making me feel guilty, like I’ve made you horribly uncomfortable.”
“No, that’s not what I think. I just don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I guess because we should focus on the mission.” He wished his voice sounded more convincing.
“We’re not doing anything. We’re just sitting and waiting. What are you focusing on?”
“The stuff that happens after we land.”
“We’re going hiking. It’s not that hard.”
“Can’t we just leave it?”
“Why can’t you just talk to me like a grownup? Why are you being childish about this?”
“Are you really going to press me on this?”
“Yes!”
The four soldiers sitting to Kettle’s left and Haley’s right turned their heads to see why she was getting agitated. Kettle stared back at the nearest man, who raised his eyebrows and said nothing. On the other side, Caurfo was busy sifting through data on his personal communications device, his face impassive, as always.
“Can it wait?” Kettle asked and gestured with his head toward their fellow passengers.
Haley leaned forward so that she could lower her voice and still be heard. “Is this better?”
“Fine. Look. I’m not angry at you.”
“Sure seems like it.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why won’t you talk to me?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. You could start by apologizing for giving me the silent treatment.”
“I told you, I’m not . . .”
“And you could tell me you’re cool with Soup and I.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m cool.”
The angry Korean scoffed and shook her head. “Gee. So sincere.”
“Oh, cut me some slack. I’m fine with you and Soup being, I don’t know, boyfriend and girlfriend, or whatever.”
“Jesus, Kettle. This isn’t high school. I’m not dating the guy. We just had sex.”
“Okay.”
“The two of us needed to blow off some steam.”
“Good job then.”
“We’ve all been under a lot of stress lately.”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
“And now you think I’m impure, or something.”
“No, it’s not that.” In Kettle’s periphery, he noticed a commotion unfolding. Caurfo was hurriedly searching through one of the storage compartments in an upper bulkhead. He snapped out some quick orders. Kettle didn’t hear what it was about.
“You’re not so pure yourself, you know.”
“I never said I was.”
“You were pretty happy at the Banana.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t bring that into this.”
“Why not? It’s okay when you get your rocks off, but when Soup and I jump in the sack, we’re somehow tarnished. Is that it?”
“No, of course not. You went to the Banana, too. I didn’t judge you then, and I’m not judging you now.”
“You didn’t judge me then, but you are judging me now. I can see it in your eyes and in your body movements. So, you tell me. What’s changed?”
The commotion had increased in scale. All of the soldiers were up and out of their seats, and the pilot was yelling something from the cockpit. Caurfo had a big chunk of metal in his hands that he was using like a crowbar to pry open a piece of the floor behind the stealth engine cowling. What the hell is all this? Kettle wondered.
“Answer me, Kettle. What’s changed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ah hah! You’re admitting that you feel weird about this. You just don’t know why.”
“Okay. If it makes you happy, I feel weird about it.”
“Is it because it’s Soup? You don’t like him?”
“Of course I like him. He’s Soup! He’s one of us. He’s like family. He’s like a brother to me after everything we’ve been through.”
“Oh, okay, I think I get it now. You’re creeped out because you think I’m messing around with family members.”
“That’s not . . . Well, I don’t . . .”
“That’s it, isn’t it?”
“No. Not exactly anyway.”
“Then what else could it be? Did you want me for yourself? Were you coming back to sweep me off my feet and take me to bed yourself? Did Soup beat you to the punch?”
“No! I . . .”
Haley sighed. “I wish you’d talk to me honestly.”
“Haley?”
“What?”
Kettle looked around at the ruckus happening on all sides. “I don’t mean to sidetrack this conversation, I really don’t, but what the hell is happening right now?”
Colonel Caurfo had succeeded in tearing up a section of the decking and was now digging into the bowels of the ship. Two soldiers flanked him with pointy devices that they were sweeping left and right. The devices emitted a variety of beeps and clicks. It reminded Kettle of Star Trek when the crew used handheld scanners to collect sensory data.
“Okay, that’s actually a good question,” Haley admitted.
“I mean, that’s not normal, right?” He pointed at Caurfo, who had managed to haul a big snarl of cables out from beneath the floor and was holding them out for the two soldiers to scan, both of whom shook their heads. Caurfo dropped them and looked around.
“Where’s it coming from?” the colonel asked rhetorically. The remaining soldiers, those without the scanners, were pulling open storage compartments and looking under seats There was a frantic energy driving their scrounging that was causing Kettle to increasingly feel concerned.
“I think I might have something, sir,” said one of the scanner-wielding soldiers. He was pointing at another section of the floor closer to Haley’s feet. Caurfo walked over and immediately jammed the wedge-shaped end of the metal bar he was carrying into a gap between floor plates.
Haley and Kettle both stood up to give the colonel and his men some extra room. Soldiers crowded in, some of them standing on the seats that had just been vacated.
From
the cockpit, the pilot called back, “We’re in Yensh airspace. Thirty minutes to the LZ.”
“Well,” Caurfo said, staring down into the hole he had just created. “Son of a bitch.” At least three of the men around him lent support to his commentary by adding their own curse words.
“Can we deactivate it?” one of them asked.
“No idea.”
“Deactivate what?” Kettle yelled out despite himself. He couldn’t see what Caurfo and his men were looking at, but he was fairly certain he could guess.
Caurfo ignored him. Instead, he yelled out, “Jovis!”
“Yes, sir,” the pilot called out.
“Set us down.”
“Sir?”
“Right now! Get us on deck as fast as you can.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Kye-shiv lurched violently down and to the right, and the engine sound pitched down as the pilot cut the throttle in an effort to shed off as much speed as quickly as possible. All of Kettle’s newfound lightning quick reflexes and physical capabilities were put to the test as he was thrown laterally over the engine cowling in the middle of the ship. He attempted to slide over the metal surface like a cop in an 80s TV show sliding dramatically over the hood of a car while chasing a bad guy, and he would have succeeded had Haley not been in the way. Instead, he accidentally closelined her and dragged her ungracefully with him until they landed in a heap together.
Haley groaned and looked up with angry eyes at Kettle, who was now on top of her. Before he could stammer out an apology, however, the ship banked sharply the other way, forcing Kettle to roll into a row of seats.
Kettle shook his head for clarity and was suddenly aware of rushing air. The pilot had opened the back hatch despite the fact that they were still moving. Kettle made out the shapes of trees in the blackness outside the ship. They were nearly on the ground.
“This ain’t gonna be pretty!” Jovis the pilot yelled out.
“Faster!” Caurfo roared back.
“Brace, brace, brace!” Jovis shouted.
Kettle grabbed onto the closest stationary objects he could find, which happened to be the support bars for the seat he had crashed into. He held on tight and tensed his muscles, while simultaneously making sure that Haley was doing the same. She was.
Everyone in the ship grunted loudly as Jovis smashed the Kye-shiv onto the forest floor like a wrestler body-slamming an opponent onto the canvas. Before Kettle was certain the craft had stopped moving, he felt a burly hand grab his jacket between the shoulder blades and start dragging him toward the open hatch.
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