Children No More-ARC

by Mark L. Van Name

  Chapter 47

  Dump Island, planet Pinkelponker - 139 years earlier

  I motioned to the others while the dust was still thin enough that we could see each other. I went through the ritual Benny had taught us: I tied a thick piece of cloth over my face, shut my eyes, and put my index fingers in my ears. I'd expressed concern that I wouldn't be able to tell when the shuttle was down, but Benny had, of course, been right that I wouldn't need to worry about that; the noise rattled my skull so hard that knowing when it had stopped would be easy.

  As soon as the sound diminished, my heart started beating harder. The urge to charge ahead was strong, but I resisted it. When the guards had dropped me here, the world outside the shuttle had been quiet and dust-free. Benny said that's the way it had been for him, too, so we knew the guards liked to wait a while before opening the doors. Benny figured it was probably because they were making sure they were safe, but they might also have wanted to avoid all the noise and dust. The reason didn't matter as long as they did it again this time.

  When I could hear nothing, I pulled out first my left finger, then my right. The only sounds were metallic ticks and, after a few seconds, the swish of the wind through the branches over us.

  I wiped my hands on my shirt and pulled the cloth off my face. I carefully checked my eyelids; no dust. I opened my eyes and saw only a bright blur. I held that position for a few seconds to let my vision stabilize; Benny had made us practice this part so much I did it automatically. When the intensity of the light seemed normal, I opened them the rest of the way.

  I held up my hand to the others, edged forward, and dropped to the ground when I was half a meter away from the edge. I crawled forward and peeked around the corner.

  The shuttle was sitting side-on to us, the same position it had occupied when they'd dropped me here. The guard would be bringing our newest resident out of the opposite side.

  As far as we knew, no one on Dump had ever attacked a shuttle. We were counting on the guards to be at ease and not expecting any trouble.

  I heard the sound of a door sliding open. I rose to my knees and launched myself forward, motioning to the others as I ran. Han, the next strongest of us, was to follow me around the rear of the shuttle. Alex and Bob were to sprint to the front to distract the guard. I didn't check to see if they were all doing as they should; there was no time for that. I had to hope they held to the plan and no one panicked.

  In a few seconds, I was at the far corner of the shuttle's rear. I pulled up. Someone bumped into me. I ignored the urge to verify it was Han and instead took a deep breath. I pulled a cloth full of rocks and one of sand out of my pockets, rocks in the right, my strong side, and sand in the left. I tensed my legs and braced myself to go.

  A low, wordless scream punched the air.

  Right on time.

  I pushed off and rounded the corner of the shuttle.

  Everything moved so quickly that only later was I able to reconstruct what happened.

  A guard turned to face Bob, who was desperately trying to stop, his momentum carrying him forward and making him an easy target.

  Bob skidded to a halt and reversed direction, his face wide with fear, a low cry bursting out of him.

  I yelled for the guard's attention.

  He ignored me and pulled the trigger on his weapon. It boomed repeatedly as rounds slammed into the sand in a line heading for Bob.

  I threw the cloth full of rocks at the guard's head. It sailed wide of him. I kept moving and crashed into his back with my shoulder. I stayed on him as he sprawled forward.

  His gun fired a short burst as we tumbled to the ground.

  I heard Bob cry out in pain but couldn't look because I had to focus on the guard.

  As he hit the sand, he tried to roll to his right away from me.

  I dropped of the other cloth, grabbed his body with both hands, and went with him, his weight slamming into me at first and then pulling me up beside him.

  He slashed an elbow backward toward my face.

  I raised my right forearm in time to block it. My arm shook from the blow, and pain screamed through it into my shoulder.

  He scrambled to his knees.

  I reached for his foot with my left arm but missed him.

  Alex, his one arm twirling another piece of cloth full of rocks, ran at the guard.

  The man pushed away from me but not far enough, as Alex let go of the cloth and followed the flying rocks toward the guard. Most of the rocks missed, but a couple hit him in the face.

  Alex jumped on him.

  The guard fell backward, more surprised and off balance than hurt.

  Alex rode him to the ground and punched him in the face.

  I shook my right arm and pulled my knife as I scrabbled to get to the guard.

  Alex's blow hurt the man but not badly.

  The man yelled and punched Alex in the neck hard enough that Alex choked, grabbed for his throat, and fell to the side. The guard pulled a handgun from his right hip and turned toward Alex.

  I screamed, loudly but not with any conscious thought, and leapt onto the guard, slashing down with my knife as I did. The blade caught in the sand for an instant before I pulled it up and along the guard's neck.

  He fired the handgun once into the sky as his throat split open and blood burbled out.

  My left ear hurt from the sound but I didn't care. The anger took over and pain vanished and all I wanted to do was lash out. I plunged the knife into his throat again, this time in the center. A spray of blood hit me as I twisted the blade and moved it from side to side.

  The guard shook once, then stopped moving. Blood streamed out of him. It was everywhere, coating my knife, soaking me.

  I pulled out the knife, my grip on the bone blade as tight as if it had grown out of my arm. The blade was shaking. I wondered why.

  Between the ringing in my left ear and the pounding of my own pulse I could barely hear anything, so the next scream was little louder than a whisper. I turned toward it with the dim knowledge that I had to get moving, that we weren't done.

  The second guard stood in the open doorway of the shuttle, his face red with rage as he raised his rifle and aimed it at me.

  Han, the source of the sound, reached the guard and pushed the end of the rifle so it no longer pointed at me.

  A shot boomed and at what seemed like the same time bits of stone flew into the air on my right.

  The guard pulled Han toward him and twisted his rifle.

  I pushed off the ground with my left hand and launched myself toward the shuttle.

  Han lost his grip on the weapon and fell backward.

  The guard aimed the rifle at Han.

  I screamed and tried to move faster.

  The guard stayed focused on Han and pulled the trigger.

  I ignored everything but the man, the target in front of me. I roared at him, my teeth pulling back, the world reducing to him and only him.

  He swung the rifle toward me.

  He was too late. I crashed into him, chopping forward with my knife as I did. The blade hit some type of armor and glanced off it as my momentum carried the guard and me backward into the shuttle and all the way to its far wall.

  He dropped the weapon as we hit.

  I raised my right knee into his crotch as hard as I could and connected firmly. He croaked in pain and surprise but managed to push me off him.

  I stumbled backward and lost my grip on my knife.

  The guard reached for his handgun.

  He didn't make it as Alex ran into him, my friend's entire weight connecting at speed with the man's shoulder.

  Alex bounced off the man and stumbled backward.

  I pushed myself up.

  The guard kicked Alex in the crotch.

  Alex fell and the guard kicked him in the head.

  I hit the guard in the face with my left hand and then my right.

  He screamed and raised his arms to cover himself.

  I grabbed the back
of his head with my left hand and pulled it down while at the same time I kicked up with my knee as hard as I could. My knee smashed into his face.

  He screamed again, but this time he fell to his knees, his legs buckling.

  I spun behind him and kicked his spine.

  He fell face forward.

  I leapt onto him and punched the side of his head a couple of times with both hands.

  At first his hands blocked me, but then they fell and were still.

  I grabbed his head with both hands and slammed it onto the floor again and again and again. I screamed, no words, just howls. My hands turned slick and blood poured out of him and still I smashed his face up and down.

  "Jon!"

  The word sounded as if it had come from a very great distance. I couldn't see anything.

  "Jon!"

  I heard it a little more clearly.

  Something grabbed my right arm and pulled it off the guard's head.

  I let go with left, balled my fist, and swiveled to my right, ready to smash whatever was attacking me.

  "Jon!"

  My vision cleared enough that I could see it was Alex, his one arm on my right, his body leaning against my shoulder, his mouth and ear bleeding.

  I stopped the punch short of his face and stared at him. I wondered what he was doing.

  "Jon, stop. He's dead. Stop." He paused and sucked in air. "They're both dead. It's over."

  I stared at my blood-soaked hands. I had to concentrate to make my fingers release their grip.

  Alex stumbled out of the shuttle, coughing and crying as he went.

  I took a deep breath to try to calm myself. As my senses returned, the stench hit me, and my stomach churned. I ran for the open doorway and made it a few steps outside before I doubled over and threw up. My eyes watered and my guts hurt and still I kept heaving.

  When my body relaxed enough that I could stand up, I looked around.

  Alex sat on the ground a few meters away, bleeding and sobbing and staring at the shuttle.

  I followed the line of his gaze and saw Han stretched out on the sand. I stepped toward him but stopped short when I saw the huge hole in his chest. His eyes were open and fixed on the sky, but he wasn't ever going to see anything again.

  Alex hurt and Han dead and Bob—where was Bob?

  I spotted his legs sticking out from the end of the shuttle. "Bob!" I said as I walked over to him. "Bob!"

  He didn't answer. He didn't move.

  When I could see the rest of him, I learned why: Blood seeped from a hole in his neck that he'd tried to cover with his left hand, back when that hand worked. Back when Bob was alive. He had launched himself for cover and, from the smooth patches in the sand behind him, even managed to crawl a bit before the wound overcame him and he bled to death.

  Bob dead. Han dead. Alex crying behind me. We'd won, but Bob and Han were dead.

  My body shook. I hugged myself but couldn't stop.

  I heard the sound of Benny's cart coming around the corner at the same time he said, "Jon?"

  He emerged into the clearing a few seconds later.

  I stared at him. I felt cold. My body screamed in pain in too many places for me to count. I shook my head, all the explanation I could muster.

  "Jon?" he said. "Are you injured?"

  "Injured?" I said, my voice rising to a scream in one word. Before I could stop myself, more words raced out of me. "You ask if I'm injured? Bob is dead and Han is dead and Alex is sitting on the ground crying and useless and I've killed two guards and I can't stop shaking—and you ask if I'm injured?"

  Benny quit rolling. He looked at me. He stared at Bob for a long time. When he faced me again, his eyes were wet. After a few seconds, he said, "I'm sorry. I've known them all longer than you have. I'm so very, very sorry. We knew the risks."

  "Did we?" I said. "You and I have talked about it, sure, many times, but did we really understand? You were the one who said we didn't."

  "No," he said, so softly I had trouble hearing him, "of course we didn't." He cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was clear and strong. "We have to go. We don't have long. They may have sent a distress signal, but even if they didn't, the shuttle will be due back. We have to get out of here and hide. We'll come back later for the others."

  "That's it?" I said. "Our friends are dead on the ground, and we leave?"

  "Yes," Benny said, "because if we don't, they will have died for absolutely nothing. I can't fly the shuttle without you. You know that. We have to go together."

  I glanced back at Han and Alex. I shook my head as if I could somehow force out all the bad things that had happened.

  Benny rolled forward, past Bob's corpse and all the way to me.

  "Jon, we leave now, or we may never get the chance again. I obviously can't force you, so the choice is yours."

  He waited until I finally looked down at him. "Decide."

  Chapter 48

  In the former rebel complex, planet Tumani

  "Lim is furious with you," Lobo said.

  After talking with Jack and Maggie and running a counter-surveillance route on my way back to Lobo, I'd been exhausted. I'd fallen asleep in my quarters inside Lobo as soon as we'd touched down in the complex. The sun was rising as we hit the ground, so I hadn't slept a lot, but thanks to the nanomachines my body was completely rested. My mind, though, was another story; I'd awakened as jangled as when I'd stretched out on the cot.

  "That's not surprising," I said, "but it also doesn't change anything."

  "I thought you should know," he said. "You should also be aware that the service for Nagy starts in ten minutes."

  "Ten minutes?" I said. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?"

  "Because I know your sleeping patterns, and your vitals suggested that you were on track to be ready in time. As you indeed are."

  Lobo's smug tone may be his most annoying attribute, but there was no point in calling him on it. I walked out of the side hatch he opened for me. "Any update on Wylak's visit?" I said over the comm.

  "He'll arrive after the service," Lobo said, his voice back to all business. "Lim suggested that would be best, and he agreed. No other activity."

  "Thanks," I said.

  Lobo guided me to the gathering. By the time I reached it, most of the boys were already there. They stood in a huge arc that formed two-thirds of a circle around the shroud-covered body. In accord with Tumani custom, Nagy's corpse and shroud lay on a simple wooden platform. Lim and most of the rest of the staff, all but those on duty elsewhere, stood in a clump in the opening in the semicircle. A few meters separated them from the edges of the groups of boys on either side of them.

  Lim glared at me as I entered the area. I ignored her and went to Nagy. I stayed well back from him, but for reasons I couldn't explain, it wasn't enough for me to stand with only the living. For a moment, I wanted to be with the dead. The sight of Nagy's long, thin, lifeless body transported me back to Dump, to the moment when I realized Bob was dead. I'd screamed then, and I wanted to scream now, but I didn't. I shook my head at all of it, the fighting and the dying and the loss of childhood, Nagy's and Bob's and even my own. No. I had no right to that, not then, not in front of a dead boy. Nagy and Bob and Han and so many others that I had seen die—all of them were gone. They had paid everything. I was alive.

  I walked to a spot between the boys and Lim's people. I didn't belong with either group.

  Lim had arranged for two local priests to come and offer prayers. I didn't hear anything they said. Their voices blended into the background like the wind and the calls of the birds in the trees above us. The sun beat down and I sweated heavily, but I didn't mind. I didn't care at all. I didn't even feel it.

  My attention returned as Long was talking.

  "Though we'd known Nagy for far less time than many of you, we'd come to care very much for him," he said. "We can't know how you feel, but we can tell you how sorry we are at this senseless loss, at the way he died for nothing."


  "No," I said, "that's not quite right."

  Long and Lim and Schmidt stared at me, their expressions and their postures telling me to shut up and back off.

  I couldn't.

  "He died trying to be the soldier that was all he knew how to be," I said. "It was all that was left inside him. Fighting had kept him alive when he had nothing else, and fighting killed him."

  "I think we can all agree—" Lim said.

  I waved my hand and cut her off. "He didn't die for nothing!" Murmurs spread through the boys. "He died being the only thing he knew how to be. If he'd been in the jungle fighting, he'd have done the same thing, and his death would have been honored."

  "That's enough!" Lim said.

  "No," I said, "it's not. These boys, these former soldiers, they understand. No matter what you say, they understand. They've felt the same urges Nagy did. They know."

  The whispers of the boys grew louder.

  I walked a few meters forward, closer to Nagy's corpse and farther from Lim. I spoke now to the boys.

  "What was senseless here, what was for nothing, was not Nagy's death. It was his life, the life the rebels made him live. What was so utterly wrong was the fact that Nagy was ever a soldier."

  The boys fell quiet.

  "What is so wrong—" I said. I paused and scanned the semicircle of boys. "—is that any of you were ever soldiers. It should never have happened."

  A few angry shouts from the boys. "We were good fighters!" one said.

  "I'm not saying you weren't. I'm sure you fought as well and as hard as you could—but you should never have had to fight! We shouldn't be here now, standing around this boy's dead body. We shouldn't be together. You should be playing or going to school or eating with your parents and brothers and sisters. None of this should ever have happened!"

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The boys were quieter now.

  "But it did." I opened my eyes. "It did. The rebels captured you and turned you into soldiers. It was senseless and wrong, but it happened. I wish it hadn't, but it did."

  I wanted to stop myself, but I couldn't. The words kept coming.

  "I understand it. You may not believe me, but I do. I've been fighting my whole life, since I was a kid, and I lost my family and I had to fight to get anywhere. Sometimes, I think it's all I know. Sometimes, late at night, when I can't fall asleep or I wake up sweaty and shaking, I wish it all hadn't happened. But it did." I paused for a few seconds and looked at the ground. "I've seen my friends die, many, many before Nagy, and I've done bad things."