Star Angel: Dawn of War (Star Angel Book 3)

by David G. McDaniel

  “You know she’s considered a hero,” Willet protested. On impulse he reached and ran a hand through her bright red hair. It was in disarray, clumped and tangled and sticking this way and that. He smoothed some of it back. Her gorgeous lips were moist and plumped from being kissed. For a moment he lost himself in her. She’s so beautiful.

  She turned up one corner of her mouth and it only made her more desirable. Satori was perfection, at all times. Willet often had to pinch himself that she was even interested in him at all.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said. “Hero. Sure. But she’s had her run. Even heroes wear out their welcome and this time she’s gone too far. You know it. I know it. Yet here we sit. Going along with yet another crazy scheme.”

  They lounged close, in the most comfortable part of the fighter, which wasn’t very comfortable at all but they’d managed to ignore the awkwardness of the accommodations. Both of them were flushed with desire, having been in and out of each other’s embrace for the last hour, interrupted by reports from Nani about hikers and other “important” things.

  Willet shifted to the side. “Yeah but this time it was actually Nani’s idea.”

  “You believe that? Jess has been leading this from the start.”

  “Maybe,” he had to agree. “But every other thing she’s done seemed crazy at first. Then it all worked out. Maybe this time is no different. I’m willing to believe.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re falling for that Prophecy crap.”

  “No. No. Just … there’s something to her. Even you have to admit that. She’s like … nothing. Just a girl. But you know that look in her eyes. You can almost feel it.” He made his point: “And there’s no denying what she’s done.”

  The console beeped.

  “Dammit!” he snapped his hand to it and caught himself before shutting off the connection altogether. Instead he acknowledged the message—checked it briefly to see that it was, in fact, mostly unnecessary or more of the same—then ack’ed it and turned back to Satori. Nani was getting annoying.

  “She’s turning out to be a real busybody, isn’t she?” Satori shook her head at the console screen. Nani had been feeding them regular updates though there was very little change. They, in turn, were maintaining strict instrument silence. A few minutes ago the mild drama of the approaching campers had come to an end, he and Satori interrupting their kisses each time a message beeped in to pay attention to the oh-so-important possibility that four people out for a hike might actually reach them in the next hour if they kept walking the way they were.

  “I only wonder how she’s going to handle it when the real stuff starts happening,” he nodded to the console to indicate Nani. “She’s never done anything more intense than research. When the real action hits she’s gonna saturate us.”

  Satori smiled. “Like a newbie on her first mission,” she leaned toward him. “If your record is any indication, I think you’ll handle her just fine.”

  She kissed him. Satori had been a newbie once, a junior officer fresh out of the academy when Willet himself was a newly minted field operator. He’d led her on her first mission, where they first met; afterward she’d gone on to command tanks and rise to the level of field commander—reversing their roles in short order and coming to be in charge of him as he continued to lead recon units for the Venatres. Each had pursued their own decisions. Willet liked being on the ground, in the field with a small unit sneaking around behind enemy lines. Satori liked directing massive firepower and blowing things up.

  Each was happy.

  He kissed her.

  Even back then, on that first mission, there’d been a connection. It was many missions, many transfers and many postings later that they actually did anything about it, but both knew back then they were destined for each other. Willet wasn’t sure if he believed fully in the idea of soul mates, but Satori seemed to make a perfect case for it.

  She kissed him.

  The console beeped and now he did shut it off.

  And with a wry grin took her into his arms.

  * *

  Jess shrieked in absolute glee. Like a girl half her age. She hadn’t had this much fun in forever, she thought, as her feet touched the floor of the cage on the carnival pirate ship ride—just as it hit bottom and swung out hard on the other side. She grunted as the far end of the ship soared overhead, everyone in that cage floating for an instant as it peaked in its arc, bodies flailing inside the cage high above, silhouetted against the dusk sky … then they were swinging back and, unnn!, through the bottom and everyone in her cage was being thrown into the air once more.

  “Woooo!” she screamed with abandon, holding the bars as her feet came light and she floated free at the top. Vertigo squeezed her. For those few seconds as they reached the peak and began the next descent it was like being in free-fall. No restraints in the cage, dangerous—no ride like this would exist in the States—it was about as thrilling as she could’ve imagined any carnival ride could be.

  “Yeah!” Zac enthused as they swung back through their arc, up and out the other side. He stood beside her, laughing and screaming with everyone else. You had to be careful to be in the right position as it came down, legs under you, or risk getting slammed to the floor as the ship crushed through the bottom. Jess wondered if the experience was really as much fun for Zac. She didn’t know how he could actually be so thrilled, but if he wasn’t having a blast he was faking it with abandon.

  “This is so much fun!” he yelled as they shot out the other side. Four other people shared the cage with them, Spanish teens, screaming and laughing as the curved pirate ship swung back and forth in long sweeps, like a mighty pendulum. “We don’t have anything like this on Anitra!”

  For a moment his comment worried Jess, but no one there likely spoke English, at least not well enough to understand, and even if they did there was too much chaos, the statement too innocent for anyone to pay attention. She glanced at Zac as they hit the top of the arc and vertigo seized her again. He was laughing, pretending to fly, totally into it, no idea he’d even let that slip.

  Maybe he really was having that much fun.

  The next plunge and surge through the bottom whisked away her concern and she was right back into it, screaming along with everyone else in the cage—Spanish, English—whatever—their shouts merged in the universal language of “thrilled”. Back and forth; back … and forth. Whoooosh through the propelling wheels at the bottom, shooting up and … floating free, hanging to the bars in dizzying delight then … plunging through the drop again and … unnnn! up the other side, hanging and … back through, only to be flung once more high into the air.

  Too soon the ride was winding down. Laughter became chuckles, then excited conversations of how awesome this or that thing was or how so-and-so did this when that happened and how ridiculous this one looked when …

  Jess caught some of the words, translating more from their faces and gestures. Soon everyone was filing off, the next throng of riders heading eagerly up the stairs to get on. Zac stayed near, pushing against the backpack she wore, filled with their things. Protective of her in the crowd. She felt him jostling along behind her, allowing himself to go with the flow and be pushed and shoved with everyone else in order to appear natural. He could, of course, sweep them all away with one arm, but did an amazing job of being human. No one would’ve thought him a Terminator or something, marching brusquely along without regard for those around him. He got bumped back and forth just like everyone else. She smiled over her shoulder.

  This whole trip to the fair had turned out to be beyond perfect.

  “Let’s get something to eat,” he suggested as they reached the ground and the crowd thinned.

  “Again?”

  He shrugged. “I want another one of those Nutty Buddys.”

  Already he’d had three of the chocolate-covered cones since they’d been there.

  “All you’ve eaten all day is sweets,” she said, heading them for the vendor. />
  “Those are the best things.”

  “At dinner you are not going to just order dessert.”

  “But we still get dessert, right?”

  She smacked him and he pulled her close and she laughed. It was fun smacking him. She used to smack Mike, but not much. He would always wince and pretend harm, then she’d have to pretend to be sorry. Not Zac. Zac could never be hurt. He hugged her to him, feigning anger, and she laughed with the thrill of it.

  She looked at the bodies all around them on the dusty field; the noise, the peals of laughter coming from all quarters, everyone lost in the pleasure of the fair. It was like a dream, walking with her arm around him, his around her.

  They got his ice cream and found a free bench where they sat as he ate. She leaned into him and looked across the fair grounds at the pirate ship, the tallest ride there—no Ferris wheel at this small carnival—whipping back and forth with its next set of riders, ends jutting high into the sky with each swing, silhouetted against the setting sun. The carnival lights were on, strings of white bulbs everywhere, and in the fading sunlight it was magical. If she concentrated she could hear the riders’ screams coming from the cages, distinct from the other noises and voices filling the festival.

  She closed her eyes and let the sounds blend into one. A cool breeze blew, tingling her cheeks, strands of hair dancing randomly across her face. Music, laughter—sounds played across her mind’s eye. Somewhere high overhead the steady rumble of a jet found its way through, echoes of power far away, bouncing across the sky. Barely audible over the insanity of the fair.

  And the smells …

  The smells in the air were amazing. All sorts of foods, the occasional perfume or cologne—including their own—Zac, lovable, precious Zac, still smelling like an entire frickin department store, but she loved it—and the smells of …

  Earth.

  She could scarcely explain it, but there was a distinct smell permeating everything. Whether it be the trees, the dirt, the grass—the smell of Earth was all around her.

  Zac put his free arm across her shoulder and held her to his side as he ate. Lost in his own thoughts, or simply letting her have hers. Letting her be. She pulled her legs up onto the bench and curled tighter against him. The leather of their jackets crinkled and rubbed together as she pushed into him.

  This was what life was about. Everything else one did, every other thing was keeping the wolves at bay so moments like this could be enjoyed.

  She sank into it, relishing it. All of it.

  She’d earned it.

  After what seemed an eternity, eyes closed, sitting in blissful peace, listening to the sounds of the fair, smelling the smells and all else, Zac shifted and she felt a sudden chill on her lips. She opened her eyes to find him kissing her with his ice-cream mouth. She shuddered with the thrill of it and together they smiled, lips pressed together. He withdrew and she reached and wiped a little chocolate from the corner of his mouth. Licked it off her finger.

  It was a totally spontaneous kiss, not tentative or stolen or in a moment of stress. A date kiss, (despite the surrounding purpose of their being there this was their first real “date”, which was how she chose to view it and nothing could change that), filled with love, and as he kissed her again, gently, lips cold, she realized it was official. If there had been any doubt before (there wasn’t, really) it was now one hundred percent confirmed:

  Zac was her boyfriend.

  She put a hand on his leg and they kissed again, passionate this time, intense and, at some point, quite suddenly … both of them giggled. From the pleasure, from the happiness of the moment, from the tingling cold sensation, the chocolate ice-cream taste—whatever the cause they giggled at the exact same moment, together. And the fact that they both made the same silly sound simultaneously, mouth to mouth, almost identical, made them laugh louder, and as they did they pulled back to look into each other’s eyes, laughing right in each other’s face. Pure mirth twinkled in his, taken with the hilarity of the moment. The power and the feel of his sweet breath, so close to her own, was intoxicating. She let the feeling wash over her. Their laughter subsided and she curled back against him, looking out across the joy of the fairgrounds. He hugged his arm tighter around her, content, and they sat that way for a long time.

  The sun set, the lights twinkled, people laughed, the energy of the carnival wafted through the air and Zac was the first to break the serenity.

  “What kind of uniform is that?” he asked. Jess followed his gaze to a pair of nuns walking through the crowd. Admittedly unusual, though for her she’d failed to take notice. For Zac they must be quite strange.

  “Nuns,” she said. “There are a lot of Catholics in Spain. Nuns are Catholic.”

  “What are Catholics?” he asked. “And what’s a nun?”

  Jess shifted against him; snuggled closer. The air had cooled, the sun gone completely from sight into a clear, deep horizon, beautiful orange right at the edge of the world, darker and darker upward in increasingly deep bands of blue, all the way up to the black of night. The carnival was ablaze in electric light.

  “The Catholic Church,” she said. “Catholicism. That’s the name of a religion. Catholics are members of the Catholic Church. Nuns are sisters in the Church. Men are priests, women are nuns.”

  Zac watched the nuns with interest. “Catholicism is the Earth religion?”

  “One of them.”

  “What do they believe?”

  What do they believe? “Well, I guess if I had to summarize, they believe in one god, who had a son, and his son came to Earth and, by God’s will, died for our sins.”

  “His son died for our sins?”

  “The idea is that if you believe God’s son died for your sins then you’ll be forgiven and live forever.”

  Zac reflected on this and Jess wondered what his next question would be. So many seemed to be begging to be asked. How do you know God’s will? Who was his son? Why only one god? Why did his son have to die? Does that mean you can sin all you want then believe right before you die? If God is God, why not just forgive everyone’s sins without having your son die? Did that mean God wasn’t God and someone else was making the rules? If not, if God was the ultimate rule maker, then why have a son at all? Why not just have everyone believe in you? Why allow people to be flawed at all?

  Instead he asked: “Just the people of Earth?”

  That was more interesting than any of hers.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m pretty sure the Bible says God created everything.”

  She kept giving him new words. But he rolled with it.

  “The Bible? Is that … the writings of Catholicism?”

  She nodded. “It says God created all. Presumably that would include the trillions of other planets out there.” She’d never really thought along these lines. “It only talks about his son coming to this one, and only at a specific point in our history.

  “Maybe God sent a trillion versions of his son to a trillion different worlds. Over the course of a few billion years—at the right time in each world’s history, right when civilizations became aware, so the people of that time and place could hear his message, again and again—so each race had a chance to believe and save their immortal souls.” Even as she said it, though, she heard the cynicism in her voice. She didn’t want Zac to think she was insensitive to the beliefs of others. Usually she wasn’t. Only, the last year had changed her perspective in so many ways. She wasn’t sure what she believed anymore.

  She softened her tone. Amended: “I guess it would apply to any person or any intelligent being anywhere or at any time. Anyone who believes in the son of God could have eternal life.”

  “What do the other religions of Earth believe?”

  “Lots of stuff.”

  “So you’re not Catholic?”

  She shook her head. Wondering at the evolution of religion on Anitra. She knew the deal with the Emperor and the Dominion, but what about the Venatre
s? What did they believe?

  But the moment was too peaceful to bother. She didn’t want to think any more about such things.

  Zac continued to reflect, watching the nuns buy cotton candy and meander back into the crowd. In unison they bit carefully into the pink and blue puffs, bright splashes of color against the stark black and white of their habits.

  It reminded Jess of a joke.

  “I’ve got a joke.” She sat a little straighter.

  Zac seemed happy for the distraction. “What is it?”

  She cleared her throat. “What’s black, white and red and has trouble going through revolving doors?”

  “What’s a revolving door?”

  What’s a …

  Maybe this wasn’t going to be funny after all. “It’s a door on an axle,” she said, “like a post. It turns as you go through it. One person can be walking in one side and another walking out on the other, without having to wait.”

  Zac nodded. “Ok,” he said. “What’s black, white and red and has trouble going through revolving doors?”

  She prepared her delivery:

  “A nun with a spear through her head.”

  And Zac actually laughed. Right away.

  She smiled, surprised he got it so quickly. “Bad, right?”

  “Absurd,” he said. “But I like absurd.”

  And she liked him. Zac was so much like her in so many ways, and the fact that he could so readily laugh—genuinely laugh—at a joke with two alien references in it, nuns and revolving doors, was testament to the connection.

  He kissed her on the forehead.

  Asked:

  “It’s getting dark. Should we get changed?”

  And she realized it was nearly time for the fun to end.

  CHAPTER 27: DINNER PLANS

  Jess finished brushing the last bit of nail polish onto her pinky finger. Bianca had picked dark blue, claiming it went best with the outfit and the accessories she would wear that night. She finished the last, careful stroke, held out her hand and turned it back and forth, looking at the results. The color was a little off in the fluorescent lighting of the public restroom but it did, indeed, go with what she was wearing.