Militia Up

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Militia Up Page 26

by J. L. Curtis


  He started to reach for a hide, and Moby picked them both up. “Go ahead. I’m assuming there are seats that reconfigure?”

  Fargo reached into the cockpit, pressed the appropriate switches, and two additional seats popped out of their storage positions. Moby set the two hides on one seat, and climbed in. Strapping the hides in before he started on his straps. Fargo shrugged. “Dineah you want to climb in?”

  She climbed in the right seat, and Fargo followed, then closed the canopy. He ran through the checklist, then lifted off slowly, oriented himself with the TBT power lines, and climbed out toward the cabin. A half div later, he taxied slowly up to the cabin, and they were met by Canis, Cattus, and Urso.

  Fargo cussed, “Dammit, I forgot to bring them any meat. I’ll feed them first, before we unload the hides. Otherwise, they’re liable to eat them to pay me back.”

  They laughed and Moby said, “Especially after they smell the blood on you.”

  All three animals crowded the liteflyer as soon as they stopped, with Urso rising and sticking her nose into the back, sniffing the hides, then growling, which set Canis and Cattus off. Fargo got out, sending ‘friends’ to them as he headed for the cabin door. He came back moments later lugging three haunches of neardeer he’d gotten yesterday. He called the animals, then sent ‘eat’ and they fell to eating with enthusiasm.

  Moby and Dineah piled out, and Moby grabbed the hides as Fargo reconfigured the liteflyer and pushed it into the garage. “Drop those on the bench and come on in. I need to clean up, but I can offer a cup of real coffee.”

  Dineah smiled. “Oh, please.”

  Moby grumbled good naturedly, “That’s all you want, woman. Coffee.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him, “This is real coffee, not like the crap in the mess or autochef. We will greet the animals while you clean up.”

  Fargo took the hint, and headed into the cabin as they walked toward the front porch. Ten segs later, he stepped out on the porch to find Urso and Moby mock wrestling, and Dineah with Canis on one side, Cattus on the other and both with heads in her lap being petted. Fargo mocked, “This… is what I get. Abandoned by the three of you for the first people that show up.”

  Cattus looked around at him, then put her head back in Dineah’s lap with a sigh and a purr. Moby and Dineah laughed. “We communicate with them, just a little better than you do.” Moby pushed Urso down and he felt him send a sit command. Urso promptly sat, and put up a paw, as if wanting to shake hands. Moby took it, then ruffled her scruff as he turned to Fargo. “The real reason we hoped to catch you home was to talk to you about Senior McDougal.”

  Fargo, rather than answering, waved them through the door, then said, “In what way? Sit while I make some coffee.”

  Moby continued, “He is… depressed. Something happened on the detachment that has caused a change in his outlook.”

  “Why do you want to know?” Fargo asked bluntly. He started the coffee brewing and took out the cups and got a glass of water for Moby, handing it to him.

  Dineah projected, “Part of our job, if you will, is assisting the captains and major with maintaining order among the troops. That entails… probing… um, psyches if you will. He has not spoken to anyone, and is actively avoiding the medic.”

  Fargo dumped his memory of the action to them, along with his talk with McDougal, and what he had done for him. Damn, I didn’t realize I’d retained all that. I wonder if my neural net is active all the time.

  Moby projected, “Yes, sir. Yours is active, and it’s high function. Yours seems to be more… fully developed than even the major’s is.”

  “That’s interesting. I haven’t used it in probably thirty years. It is a Marine command neural net. Installed when I graduated from TBS. I remember it was painful, and it took a while to figure out what it was doing, or helping me do. It was supposedly deactivated when I was… Court martialed.”

  “Maybe you haven’t consciously used it, but I think it’s been active for a long time. That level of recall and detail is… almost like being there.”

  Fargo dropped out of the link, “Thankfully it doesn’t include smell-o-vision.” He poured two cups of coffee, handed one to Dineah, and sat down, sipping his with a smile.

  Dineah inhaled deeply, her smile spreading and she took a sip, “Oh, so good!”

  Moby just shook his head sadly, “I don’t see…”

  “Hush you. You are… what is ancient word, Phoenician… No, Philistine. You cannot appreciate good things.”

  Fargo snorted his coffee, and Moby laughed. “I joined with you, didn’t I?”

  “Well, maybe some good things.”

  Fargo watched the byplay as he cued dinner in the autochef, “Will you stay the night?”

  They looked at each other and nodded. “If it is alright with you, we would be grateful. We can help you with the hides if you wish.”

  “Please.” The divs passed quickly, and finally they were both scraped and prepped. “Well, I think we’re done,” he said.

  Moby replied, “We can take your rifle back with us. Our armorer is good, and bored. He would be happy to work on a rifle that nice, and he can probably fix the holoscope too.”

  “I have to fly down to Rushing River tomorrow. I’ll gladly trade a ride for a repair.”

  Moby looked at Dineah and he felt them communicate, then Moby said, “Deal!”

  Duty Calls

  Fargo parked the liteflyer in the space assigned to him and walked around the front of the administration building. He found Sergeant Omar sitting in his runabout, and asked, “Ho, Sergeant. Favor you can do?”

  “Need you have, Lieutenant of the retired,” Omar’s GalTrans spit out.

  “Ride to GalPat compound is needed.”

  Omar straightened, “Ride, I can give.” He motioned and Fargo climbed into the runabout. Ten segs later, he dropped Fargo off at the gate to the compound, “Ride to return, you need?”

  Fargo shrugged. “Know, I do not.”

  Omar nodded and held up his radio, “Call can be made.”

  “Thanks are owed.”

  The androgynous corporal on the gate shook his/her head, saying in a soprano voice, “I hate trying to parse what they say. Can I help you?”

  “I’m Captain Fargo, with the militia, I’d like to talk to either of the captains, the major, or Command Sergeant Major Aphrodite if they’re available.”

  “Standby one, sir.”

  He decided the corporal was a she, as she spoke into the air, and a moment later nodded. “The major would be happy to receive you. Do you know the way?”

  “Yes, I do, thank you.” Five segs later, he sat in Major Culverhouse’s office, along with Captain Culverhouse, Captain Garibaldi, and the CSM. He juggled the bulb of coffee as he thought through what he wanted to say. “I wanted to give you some feedback on the ops, and see if you were satisfied with the condition of the modules.”

  CSM Aphrodite replied, “Well satisfied. They actually looked better than when we loaned them to you. Although the maintenance module was short some electronic spares.”

  Fargo nodded. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk about. But first, I’d like to say we could not have been more appreciative of the Fleet people that accompanied us. Warrant Boykin was outstanding, as was Senior Sergeant Grayson, and Senior Sergeant McDougal. They have all been put in for awards, and Senior Sergeant McDougal invented something while on the Det that saved our lives.”

  Major Culverhouse looked sharply at Captain Garibaldi, “Did you know about this, Bob?”

  He held up his hands, “All I know is something went on. McDougal came back changed. He’s never been real social, and he’s even more withdrawn, but his work ethic is still there, and he’s ahead on all the maintenance.”

  The CSM asked gently, “Did he have to kill someone?”

  Fargo shifted, “A sniper tried to kill him about a month into the Det. What he invented killed about ninety civilians who were trying to overrun our sites.
He took it pretty personal, and our master chief and warrant had a few heart to heart chats with him. I don’t know how much longer he has on this hitch, but I don’t think he’s going to re-up.”

  Major Culverhouse asked, “What the hell did he invent that killed that many people? And why don’t we know about it? He didn’t submit anything to us, did he?” The two captains and the CSM all shook their heads.

  Fargo interrupted, “Because we told him not to. Due to the nature of the development, it is truly a game-changer in site defense. It was actually classified by Intel, and the design was pushed up via other channels.”

  The CSM looked angry and started to get up. Fargo snapped, “Star level classified, CSM. Sit down.” Major Culverhouse looked at him speculatively as he continued, “I will tell you it ties into the sonics, and repulses projectiles at reciprocal velocities away from the barrier.”

  All three of them started talking at once, “That’s not possible.” “How did…” “Can’t be done.”

  He interrupted again, “It is, he did, and De Perez Galactic is willing to offer him a significant amount for his innovation, with royalties.”

  Captain Culverhouse laughed. “Oh that is just… perfect. I’m guessing he gets no official recognition, right?”

  Fargo shrugged. “Above my paygrade. I was asked to see if he would be willing to meet with a De Perez representative within the next seven days.”

  “Why you?”

  “I guess because I’m here, my name was on the initial report, and that’s one less person that has to be read in? I really don’t know.”

  Major Culverhouse shook her head in amazement, “McDougal is a frikken lightening rod! She glanced at her desktop, “He’s got… ten months left on his enlistment. We’re supposed to be picked up in two or three months, and that would give him time to transit back and out process. I can only wonder what the brass thinks about this, considering…”

  Captain Garibaldi smiled. “You tell me when, I’ll have him there, wherever there is.”

  Fargo looked at each of them, “Any problems with that?”

  It was obvious the CSM did, but she elected not to say anything as Fargo got up, “Thank you for your time. As soon as I get a date and time, I’ll message you. They wanted to meet at the administration building here.”

  The duty driver gave Fargo a ride to Rushing River, and after a long lunch with Luann, and a review of the work schedule with Mikhail for more upgrades to the TBT system, he finally got away and walked slowly toward the winery. Glancing at his wrist comp, he picked up the pace, Damn, where did the day go? It’s already seventeen! I told her I’d be there early. He got to the winery a few minutes later, slightly winded, and found Nicole standing grumpily in the office. He asked tentatively, “What’s wrong?”

  “Holly’s been bottling wines. I really don’t want to go through the same bullshit I did last year with hauling it to Star Center, but…”

  “Why not have them come here?”

  Nicole looked askance at him, “Yeah, right. That was probably a one-time sale, and who the hell is going to come to our little backwater Rimworld to buy wine?”

  Holly interrupted them, and Fargo was surprised to see McDougal with her. “Mom, Fargo, this is…”

  They both said, “Senior Sergeant McDougal.”

  Holly, confused, looked between them and Mac, blushing, “Uh… I don’t know…”

  McDougal said, “Captain, Chief, I didn’t expect…”

  Fargo smiled. “What are you doing here, Mac?”

  “I asked if I could get a tour. I’ve never seen a winery, but I’m interested in how wines are made.” Fargo had a random thought, I wonder if Grayson’s stories about illegal booze and the Scots/Irish maintenance mafia are more than just stories.

  Holly asked, “How do you know my mother and Fargo?”

  “I was detached to them for the mission on Endine.”

  Nicole smiled at him, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

  Fargo smiled when Mac looked first at Holly, who nodded, and then said, “If it’s not too much trouble, I would like to.”

  Nicole and Holly served neardeer tenderloins with a hunter sauce, greens, beans, and potatoes and one of their bottles of red wine for dinner. Mac didn’t say much, but cleaned his plate quickly. He finally pushed back from the table, “That has to be one of the best meals I’ve ever had.” He looked at his wrist comp, “I’m sorry, but I need to get back to the compound. I didn’t sign out for an overnight, and muster will be in a div. Thank you very much!”

  Holly walked out with him, and Nicole and Fargo had bulbs of coffee as they sat contentedly at the table. Fargo looked at her, “She could do worse.”

  Nicole looked at him, “What do you mean?”

  “He’s going to be offered a million credits and royalties for his repulsor. And he’s only got ten months left on this hitch.”

  She laughed. “You don’t know Holly, do you? She’s not… interested in him.”

  It was Fargo’s turn to laugh, “Maybe not now, but he’s interested.” He got up and started picking up dishes. “As soon as she comes back, I want to take a walk in the vineyard.”

  Nicole picked up the other dishes, “Are you thinking about that wolf and mountain lion? Would it be safe?”

  “As safe as anything. If you two don’t want to go…”

  Holly came back in, “Go where?”

  Nicole answered for him, “Walking in the vineyard. In the dark.”

  Holly looked between them, “Is it… necessary?”

  Fargo shrugged. “Maybe not, but it might confirm some things.”

  Nicole threw up her hands, “Men.” She reached for her jacket, handed Holly hers, and grabbed two hand lights. “Lead on, Mister Mysterious.”

  Fargo led them to the back fence of the vineyard and said, “Turn off the lights.” When they did, he reached out with both his empath sense and his mind on the ‘frequency’ of the animals, projecting welcome.

  A seg later, he heard a soft woof, and a purr that was more felt than heard. He knelt, putting out his hands, and felt a wolf under one hand, and a mountain lion under the other one. He got a sense of protection, and watching over cubs. He said softly, “Nicole, Holly, come kneel by me. Don’t be afraid if you get nosed or licked, okay?”

  He heard Nicole sigh, and Holly’s quick intake of breath, but they both knelt next to him. Nicole laughed musically when both animals licked her hands, and Holly sighed, “So warm. And that purring. You can feel it!”

  Nicole said softly, “They were patrolling weren’t they?”

  Fargo sent thoughts of thanks and welcome to both animals, and he got what he thought was probably as close to an acknowledgement they were capable of. “I think so. Nicole, I got a sense they were protecting your cub, Holly”

  Holly asked, “Cub? Me?”

  Nicole laughed. “Oh, this is just… unbelievable.”

  Fargo stood, helping both of them up, “Maybe, but it’s not something we can ever tell anyone.”

  “Why,” Holly asked.

  “Because every Xeno in the galaxy would be here experimenting on them. They are… sentient in their own way. There is another species…”

  Nicole chimed in, “The bears, right?”

  Fargo nodded. “The bears also communicate with each other and across species. I know those three species interact with purpose.”

  Holly shivered, “That’s scary.”

  ***

  Boykin had picked up Fargo, McDougal, and OneSvel at Rushing River, and flown them to the Enclave earlier in the day. OneSvel, with Grayson helping, had done a medcall for the village, and Grayson was surprised to find so few problems among either the children or the elders.

  OneSvel chittered, “Mountain air. Very few particulates, too cold for most viruses and bacteria. And they keep their village and themselves very clean.”

  Grayson nodded. “That makes sense. Come to think of it, I’ve never had the chance to work in an environm
ent like this. I’m usually patching up drunks, and stupid troops. And battle wounds.”

  OneSvel chittered a laugh, “Welcome to remote duty. There is not much of that here. Tomorrow, can you point me to the hospital in White Beach? I have medications to pick up for Doc Grant.”

  “Sure, that will get me out of the compound for a while. Glad to do it.”

  After they finished the medical call, a buffet lunch was provided by the village as the people started changing into what Fargo thought of as their funeral clothes. A div later, Fargo stood on the bank of the lake, staring morosely at another funeral pyre, this one built for Shanni and Lev. I truly hate this. They… should not have died. I should never have let the troops go into those towns. That was stupid on my part. Nicole stood next to him, lightly rubbing his back, out of sight of the others. Boykin, Grayson, and McDougal lined up beside her.

  “This is not your fault Ethan, just like the last time. I can feel your anger, and you’re wrong. You can’t lock them down like children. They’re all grown men and women, and they knew the odds. They could just as easily have died in camp. Deity has her own way of taking those she wants, and we have no control over that.”

  Fargo tasted her emotions and knew she believed exactly what she was saying, but that didn’t ease the pain, “No, if I hadn’t allowed them liberty, it wouldn’t have…”

  The priest and Lal marched down the bank to the pyre. Lal lit the first torch out of the fire pit, and handed it to Fargo, then handed the next torches to Horse, Daman and Jiri as the priest chanted the dirge for the dead in the background. The four of them went to the four corners of the pyre, as when Lal nodded, they simultaneously touched their torches to the pyre, and then Fargo followed the others in adding the torches to the pyre as its flames grew.

  He went back to stand by Nicole, thankful that the winds were blowing away from them, as the fire leapt higher and higher, until the bodies were consumed. The priest continued his prayers as the fire burned lower, and Nicole translated for the others that the families have eleven days of mourning, then a celebration of life after that time.

 

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