Warrior Chronicles 6: Warrior's Glass

by Shawn Jones

  “In my culture, the women cooked. Well, that’s not correct. Men cooked as well, but women cooked when there were to be guests.”

  “You don’t want to taste my cooking, Salana. The only meal I can make consistently well is breakfast, and even then , I burn things. I think I burned water once,” Kim laughed. “Cort on the other hand, could be a chef in a restaurant. Would you like something to drink?”

  Biyadiq cast her eyes away, then turned back with a hesitant look. “Would the General mind if I tried some of his alcohol?”

  “Of course not! What would you like?”

  Sheepishly, Biyadiq said, “I don’t know. I’ve never tasted it. It is forbidden in my culture.”

  “You are willing to forsake that belief?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I’m starting to believe that what Doctor Ceram has told me is true.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “We were talking about religion. He questions whether a true god would restrict something that has no ill effects. In my time, alcohol damaged the body, but with synthetics, it’s as harmless as water. So would my god really consider it a sin?”

  Kim motioned Salana to remain seated, and poured them both a glass of Cort’s single malt. She added an ice cube to each glass as she said, “Ceram doesn’t lie. He may refuse to tell the truth, but if he speaks, he is being honest.”

  “It’s like a nightmare sometimes. But other times, this world is filled with marvels.”

  Kim remembered what Cort had told her about traveling forward in time, and what it was like when he first emerged from his cave all those years before. “I can’t imagine what you are feeling. I can barely relate to what Cort has told me. And even his situation is different from yours. But are you willing to forsake your culture for something you aren’t sure about?”

  Just then the door beeped. Kim stood and answered it. It was Clem, and George’s avatar. She introduced them to Salana, and pointed to the galley where Cort and Ceram were chatting. Clem took the hint and they left to join the other males.

  Salana looked after them with a hint of curiosity and uncertainty evident in her expression. “Clem has facial hair. Is he an abductee as well?”

  “Yes, and he’s Cort’s great-grandfather.”

  Salana was surprised. “I have no reason to doubt it, I guess. I’ve been raped and bred. They took at least three embryos or fetuses from me.” She looked down and added, “I think Clem was one of the men who was used to assault me.”

  Kim touched her hand and said, “Whatever god you follow isn’t going to begrudge you a glass of harmless alcohol after what you’ve been through. And you shouldn’t harbor anger toward Clem. He was a victim, too.”

  “I don’t wish him harm. I know what they did to us. Really, I feel a bond to him, if I am completely honest.” She took the glass from Kim. “I don’t suppose it’s worse than the cannibalism.”

  Kim was surprised. “You know about that?”

  “Yes. I had already suspected it, but I ran some tests on other abductees when we came to the ship. Some of us had human DNA in our digestive systems. I try not to think about it.”

  “We haven’t, and don’t intend to tell the other abductees until we are back in our time.” Kim raised her glass, and indicated Salana should do the same. “Here’s to the end of that hell.”

  Salana sniffed the amber liquid, took a sip, and made a sour face. “I only hope the one I am in now is not worse.”

  “I can promise you won’t have to do anything with your body that you don’t want to.”

  Salana smiled and took another sip. “Except care for your husband.”

  Kim felt a sharp pang of hurt and protectiveness. Her demeanor changed as she said, “You don’t have to do that. And to be honest, if you can’t care for him as well as you would someone else, I’d rather you refuse to treat him.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that…” Salana looked at her glass. “I don’t know what I mean, but my oath to protect my patients is stronger even than my moral beliefs. I may not agree with the General’s methods, but I keep telling myself, he saved us. All of us who were taken.”

  “You weren’t the only victims.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Kim looked at Cort’s direction, asking a silent question that she hoped he sensed. When he showed his head in the doorway of the kitchen and nodded, she said, “When my husband had his first stroke, a female subordinate raped him repeatedly.”

  Salana was taken aback. She had never considered the vulnerability of a man. Looking at Kim, she asked, “How do you deal with that?”

  “He executed the officer. Rape is a capital offense, under any circumstances. A few minutes later, we found out she was pregnant with his child.”

  “My God! I’m sorry.”

  They looked up to see Cort standing silently in the corner of the room listening. “I remember it now.”

  Kim was surprised. “I hadn’t thought of that. You remember it? All of it?”

  Cort turned to face her. “Yes.”

  Cort felt sadness and regret wash over his wife, while confusion flowed from Biyadiq. He said, “I couldn’t think. At least not with the right head. Every single thought I had was sexual.”

  He looked directly into Kim’s eyes. “I craved you more than anyone, though.”

  Salana felt like she was eavesdropping. She didn’t know if she should stay or leave, but she did know this conversation wasn’t one she was a part of.

  “I smelled her on you,” Kim said. “You had almost talked me into taking you into my mouth.” Tears filled her eyes. “But when I got between your legs, I smelled her.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. But it changed everything. Somehow, until that moment, I thought you were only mine. That no one else could take you from me. After that, I knew better. It was the first time I felt like you weren’t mine. Now I know that’s not true, but that day, I had lost you.”

  “You will never lose me. My heart and my soul are yours, Kim. I’m weak for you.”

  “Your body was weak for everyone. Even ugly women.”

  Salana finally found her voice and said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I’ll check on your cooking, General.”

  Without waiting for either of them to reply, she left.

  Cort sat down at the table, and Kim sat across from him. He took a long pull of his scotch, and said, “I can give your husband back to you.”

  Kim was taken aback. “What?”

  “I can give him back to you. We can stop just before he died, and I can do the same thing with him that we want to do for Diane. “

  She stood up and leaned across the table, to reach for his neck. For a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him, but then she touched his inhibitor and sat back down. “Is that what you want? So you can have Angela again?”

  “I didn’t even want to bring her back. You want me to do that. Do you want your husband back?

  “You are my husband. I just don’t want to lose you.”

  Cort stretched his arm out and grabbed her tunic, pulling her back across the table. He turned her body, knocking dishes off the table, and Kim yelped when she landed in his lap. He kissed her, muttering, “Not a chance.”

  With Cort back in the kitchen, Salana joined Kim again.

  “Don’t ever forget what that man has gone through, and don’t ever forget he saved your life. Because if you do, if you ever cannot give one hundred percent in caring for my husband, it would be better for you to quit treating him. Am I making myself clear?”

  Salana looked at Kim and a chill ran down her spine. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The moment passed, and with their new understanding, the conversation was light until Cort announced dinner was ready.

  As they ate, Cort looked at the two medicos and said, “I feel like a schizophrenic. Even with the inhibitor, I feel stronger emotions sometimes. One of my Marines is drea
ming about Liz Thoms right now. He should have asked to stay with her. In the galley, there is a woman who wonders if she will ever want to have children, after what she went through on Gryll. She hates Clem. The thing is, they are all in my head. Like the thoughts are my own. I need help separating them. Other times, I can barely feel an emotion.”

  “Perhaps you should talk to someone about that, Gen… Cort.”

  “Probably. That’s what Admiral Bazal would have been for me.” Cort looked at the viewer on the wall. The edge of Threm’s atmosphere was glowing as it came into view. “I miss him. He’s been a part of me for a long time. Even in the other universe, I missed him. Now I’ve lost him completely.”

  “Perhaps not,” Ceram clicked. “Even the admiral cannot read me the way you are sometimes able to. Perhaps you will be able to reach him, even if he cannot reach you.”

  “I’ve tried. When I realized I could read you, it was the first thing I did. Even before we left the medical bay.”

  Cort put his napkin on his plate and stood up. “I’m sorry. I’m not good company right now. Enjoy the rest of your meal. I’m going for a walk.”

  Clem started to stand as the door closed behind Cort, but Ceram stopped him. “No. Leave him to his own devices,” he clicked. “I’ve learned that sometimes he needs solitude.”

  Kim looked at the door, but said, “He’s right, Clem. He’s lost his link to Bazal. The Admiral will probably feel the same way when we get back to our time. They are one mind in many ways.”

  Salana listened to the others talk. “The General is a complex man. He can read every mind around him, but misses the one he cannot.”

  Nine

  On the surface of Threm, Cort relieved Rai and sent the men who were rotating out to the shuttle. In the command building, he looked at the imagery of combat lines around the farms, and realized the Marines were running out of time and resources. The exos were spread out across the main continent, and had a good hold on another smaller one. Fortunately, the smaller of the two was nearly arctic, and only its southernmost regions had farms. It doesn’t matter. Even with the rain, we’re going to lose.

  He commed George and fed the AI several battle plans through his flexpad and HUD. As they ran dozens of scenarios, Cort came to realize that none would be successful. They needed another option. Another plan of attack. Cort asked if Ceram was studying samples of the exos.

  “Yes, Father. But containment procedures have to be extreme. The exos are extremely resilient.”

  Cort knew it firsthand. He remembered the exo that had attacked him in open space. “I’ll be up in six hours. Tell Ceram I want to see the lab and find out what he knows.”

  During Rai’s shift, the captain had found a reasonable strategy. Each Marine was using an autonomous overhead drone to scan the area around him, highlighting exos and their native hosts. The drone fed information to the CONDOR beneath it, allowing each Marine to pursue and target the nearest exos. Even so, it was like trying to douse a forest fire with the moisture from a garden hose. Still, it allowed them to protect the farm elevators. As long as they kept the exos on the surface, there was a chance to save the planet.

  Cort wanted to be in the thick of things, fighting the war, but he was stuck in a command center. George’s capabilities were taxed as he controlled the ship and shuttle with his avatar, and thousands of drones with his gel core. Cort needed more fighters.

  I wish I could I go pick up my team on Earth. Gunny would adapt to a CONDOR faster than George could jump the shuttle. Hell, Echo team would double my combat effectiveness. He thought about the old team with fondness. Men who would have died beside him and men who had. Carver was a damned caveman. That’s it! The cavemen.

  Among the refugees from the Gryll universe were several hundred prehistoric humans. Cort commed George again. The avatar told him that the Neanderthals might be combat capable, but earlier iterations of humanity would not be. Cort sent orders to Clem, and gave George parameters for arming and protecting the cavemen. He asked how many were healthy enough to fight, and George surprised him with both concern and humor.

  “Healthy? As opposed to you, Father? All of them.”

  —

  Captain Rai spoke to Cort when he woke up. “Thanks for the promotion, sir.”

  “You earned it. I just added to your headaches, so don’t thank me. How are you feeling?”

  “Much better, thank you.”

  “Good. Get down here as soon as you get some grub.”

  “Sir? Are we really going to arm the Neanderthals?”

  “Yep. I want each Marine to take four of them. If any of the modern human fighters are capable of leading squads, give them a pair of the Neanderthals.”

  Cort showed Rai a new battle plan that included Neanderthals wearing FALCONs and armed with incendiary carbines. The rounds would explode into fire on impact.

  “How will we talk to them?”

  “Clem is already working with translation software and the comms to figure that out.”

  “I’d like to try a smaller ratio of cavemen to Marines at first, sir.”

  “I would too, Captain. But we don’t have time. Even this won’t help us much. I’m just trying to buy time until we have a better plan.”

  Rai asked that the Marines at least be given lockout codes to the Neanderthal weapons and armor, and Cort agreed. There was nothing the weapons could do to CONDORs, but they could hurt natives of the planet, and cause a lot a mayhem.

  Rai closed the comm channel just as he stepped off the shuttle, and Cort immediately stepped on, with Biyadiq right behind him. The battle for Threm was in Rai’s hands again. As they travelled around the planet, rotating other troops up to the ship for rest cycles, Biyadiq ran test after test on Cort. His telepathy was stronger, and his synthetics were replacing a higher percentage of his blood.

  Back on the Remington, Cort headed straight to see Ceram and the exos.

  There were three animals from the planet’s surface, and one Erom , that were still attached to the parasite. In addition, Ceram had several exo samples locked in metallic Formvar-M. The clear, polycarbonate-like, plasticized metal did keep the exos from escaping, but the samples were not dead by any means. They were just turned off, until any living being got near them.

  Ceram’s protocol for working with the exos was extreme, but more than once , he questioned if it was enough. A small lab was printed around an airlock. There were lasers near the airlock that surrounded the lab with jets that could incinerate anything that escaped the area. In addition, the whole setup was near the door of a shuttle bay. If an exo escaped, and all else failed, the entire lab could be ejected into space with the push of any one of a dozen control panels that were constantly manned by Marines.

  Cort watched on a flexpad as Ceram worked in the lab. In the block of Formvar-M, the piece looked like any preserved scientific sample. Resembling an ivory pillbug, it was the size of a small loaf of bread. When Ceram approached it, the block began to vibrate and shudder, reminding Cort of a Mexican jumping bean. Ceram locked the block to his work table, and turned on an electron drill.

  Formvar-M was specifically made to be impervious to most chemicals, biologics, and light weapons. Cort had first encountered the substance when he tried to leave the man-made cavern that housed the transition chamber he used to jump through time from the twenty-first century. Without knowing his original powered armor was available to him in the cave, he had no idea how to escape the underground prison, which was sealed off with the material. The key was electricity, as he found out when the outside world discovered him. The right voltage, at the right amperage, dissolved the barriers. Formvar-M was the only substance Ceram had found that could contain the exo samples. He even used it to house the symbiotic pairs.

  Ceram fired a beam of electrons into the block, so he could take a sample from the exo it encased. After the few pieces of exo shell were extracted, Ceram resealed the hole, and released the block from the work table. It shuddered and jumped u
ntil Ceram was almost ten meters from it. Then the exo became dormant again.

  The sample was then submerged in a frozen nutrient bath, which was heated to just above the freezing point of water. It began to shimmer.

  Ceram clicked, “The sample is using the nutrient medium to feed. In a few minutes, it will be big enough to break through the dish, and try to attack me. Further, every cell type appears to be capable of propagation.”

  “I’ve seen enough,” Cort said over the comm. “Kill it. I don’t want you messing with them unless you have a reason too.”

  Ceram put the nutrient dish into an incinerator, reduced it to ashes, then put the dust in the airlock and evacuated it to space. The bare molecules were incinerated with the ship’s point defense lasers once it was outside.