Hunter Legacy 5 Hail the Hero
Page 15
Our eyes met. She smiled at me, and suddenly turned and fled.
I wondered what had spooked her.
I looked around, and found both Amanda and Alison with big grins on their faces. Neither would say anything though.
The afternoon wore on, the conversations became repetitive, and I felt an intense need for some sleep.
The party wound down at five, and I was shown to a large suite where I could rest before dinner. I wasn’t sure how many rooms there were in this suite, but the girls all followed me in, and vanished. I eased myself down on the bed, moved the scooter over next to me, and promptly went to sleep.
Twenty Four
I awoke at seven thirty, to a combination of pain and Jeeves calling my name. I lay there for a moment, bothered by more unremembered dreams of purple smoke, until I suddenly realized I was now late for dinner.
Jeeves gave me another pain shot, and I pulled myself off the bed using the scooter. I needed the bathroom badly. By the time I felt refreshed, I’d lost another fifteen minutes, and set out after Jeeves to wherever dinner was being held.
I was the last one there, predictably. But instead of being told off for being tardy, I was greeted with booming applause.
I looked around the large Dining Room, seeing an oblong space, with a long table down the middle. There were only two empty seats, one at each end.
A palace functionary indicated the seat at the end closest to me. I eased myself into position ready to sit, but before I could do so, another functionary at the other end of the room said, “All stand for Her Majesty.”
I remained where I was, still on my scooter, while the rest of the table all rose.
The young girl I’d seen during the afternoon entered, took her place at the other end of the table, nodded down the table, and sat.
“You may be seated,” said the functionary.
I eased myself into my chair, and the functionary nearest me deftly moved me under the table without banging my leg, while a second positioned a pouffe for it. The table itself was wide enough that no-one was near enough to bang my leg. Once again it made me a bit isolated, but it was better than having people kicking my leg accidently. Jane took the scooter from the room.
Nearest to me were the Generals and Admirals. At the other end were senior British and London government officials. In the middle was everyone of consequence who fought the war.
While a good distance away from me, my main sightline was the Queen. As the courses came and went, I concentrated very hard on not looking at her.
Conversation went on across me, but I let it go without my input. I’d had enough sleep to keep me going, but not enough to feel rested.
And truth to tell, I didn’t really want to be here. I’d have preferred to be back in my bedroom, on my way home, doing releases for all the dead I didn’t pull the trigger for, but gave the orders which killed them. Their weight seemed overbearing. I’d missed the celebration on Dallas, and was now wishing I was missing this one as well.
It seemed almost obscene to be celebrating at all. How many ships had I killed? How many people? It wasn’t any wonder I’d been dead for fifteen minutes. I deserved it. A spiritual person killing in the magnitude I’d done? I wasn’t sure why I’d woken up.
Or maybe that was the point. Living was my penance now.
Still not hungry, I’d pecked my way through the first few courses, and was now moving my dessert around my plate.
“Are you okay Jon?” asked Walter.
I looked up from my plate, which I hadn’t really been seeing, and looked at him.
“Sorry, what?”
“Are you okay Jon. You don’t look like you’re all here.”
It felt like most of this end of the table were looking at me.
“I guess I’m not. It’s sinking in how many people I’m responsible for killing, and finding something in my belief system which allows it, has proved to not be a happening thing.” I sighed. “I’d just as soon be in my bedroom and heading home, than anywhere trying to celebrate.”
“You’re missing the whole point Jon,” said Darius. I looked at him. “We celebrate survival, not what it took to survive. We give credit where it’s due, for those who made that survival possible. We celebrate life and its continuation.”
“Well said,” added Walter. “Jon, take some time when you return to Nexus. Go and find a beach somewhere, and sit on it for a week or two. You’ve had a rough two months, and done the impossible at the same time. You’re exhausted as well as physically damaged. The last thing you should be doing at the moment is think.”
“Not much else I can do.”
“Not so,” said Patton. “You’re mobile. Try a combat range on your scooter. Hell, I might find one and come try it with you!”
My end of the table all laughed, and I joined in reluctantly. He had a point. I could try the assault courses on my scooter. It would keep me busy, and perhaps give me a new skill set.
I made an effort to finish my dessert.
The others around me made more of an effort to keep me in the conversation now, so the mood I’d been falling into wasn’t allowed to progress any further. All the same, I didn’t recall anything which was said.
As everyone was enjoying their coffee, and talking about how good it was, I sat back and looked around the table. My eyes went up one side, and came to rest on the Queen, who I suddenly realized, I knew nothing about, not even her name. In fact, I hadn’t been aware British sector had a Queen. Something must have happened recently. I thought I should’ve been asking someone. But then, did it really matter? I was here for another couple of days, wasn’t getting involved in anything local, and probably would never be back. I had enough to worry about besides the British monarchy.
I was suddenly aware the Queen had locked glances with me. I went bright red, and looked away, making myself scan down the other side of the table. Damn that blush suppressor, I thought. I should do a complaint. So I did. I went into the menus to find software support, filled out the bug report, and sent it off. I turned the override back on, which eliminated the red on my cheeks, but when I looked up again, the Queen was still watching me. This time, she smiled at me, and turned away to say something to one of the people near her.
When the dinner finally broke up, I was very glad to be out of there.
By eleven, I was back in my bedroom, patting Angel. Most of my team had elected to stay planet-side, since the following morning was free, and none of them had spent much quality time dirtside in a long time.
Jeeves gave me another shot at eleven thirty, and I went straight off to sleep.
Pain woke me again at three thirty. Jeeves gave me the next shot, but I was too restless to go back to sleep.
I hauled myself out of bed, leaving a curled up puss behind, and scooted down to Custer’s gun ranges. Once there, I activated the suit on the scooter to mount my guns on my suit, and started into the combat courses. I had three guns to choose from, while keeping control of the scooter and my balance on it. At first, I found it almost impossible to keep control and fire a gun at the same time. However, like everything, practice makes perfect, and after a solid hour, I began to get the hang of it. I found I could hold myself on using my arms wrapped around the handle bars, and shoot using both hands, while controlling speed and direction with my PC. As another hour went past, my score improved from really dismal to approaching average. Hardest was the Long Gun, as I couldn’t sight it properly. So I concentrated on bringing my score up with just the gatling stunners. When I was finally into the eighties range, I called it a session, scooted back to my bedroom, showered, and stretched out next to a still sleeping Angel.
Pain once again woke me, but I’d had another four hours sleep this time, without dreams. Jeeves gave me my overdue pain shot, before I moved myself. I felt lethargic, and the thought of the medal ceremony to come today, almost had me go back to bed and hide under the covers. Still, it was for the British troops, all I had to do was be there.
I sat in my living room and waded through emails. The Avon ‘tool man’ had sent me an upgrade for my suit. The message with it made it clear this was a beta version, and would only work with three belts merged. He’d run with my suggestions, and introduced a layered approach to the suit reaction. The suit would now form three distinct layers when it went into a defensive mode. The outer layer would emulate combat suit armour well away from the skin, the middle layer would concentrate on moving the momentum of the hit downwards, while the inner layer retained the original purpose of being body armour, preventing actual damage to the person.
The outer layer, in theory, would take the damage potential of the hit and channel it to the deck, while the middle layer dealt with the residual momentum. If the hit was too much for the outer triple boosted suit to handle, the middle layer would take over the outer layer role. It was hoped the combination would not only prevent momentum knocking over the person being hit, but also prevent any bruising.
While I can’t say I looked forward to having this tested, I uploaded the upgrade and checked the suit integrity value. It was now even higher than before. I emailed him back my thanks, and should I be a target again, I’d let him know how it performed.
I couldn’t see I’d be any worse off, even if the layered approach failed to work.
In any case, I was determined to avoid placing myself in locations where I’d be shot at again, if I could help it. Chameleon mode worked really well, and I intended to do a lot of sneaking around from now on. Even when I regained some mobility, the scooter would come in handy, since the faster you were going, the harder it was to hit you. Something else for me to practice - speed scooting!
At eleven thirty, as I was beginning to think about some lunch, Alison walked in with Marshall Bigglesworth.
“Don’t get up Jon,” he said quickly, as I reached for my scooter. “I wanted to go over the ceremony this afternoon with you. You’re aide told me you were up here, so I took the opportunity to come look at your flagship. I hope you don’t mind, but she showed me around. It might be old, but I really like what you did with her.”
“Thank you sir.”
“Call me James, Jon. We’re the same rank you know.”
He chuckled, and seated himself next to me. Alison remained standing.
“Not really James. The Americans added my fourth star, but retired me the next day. So it’s not really earned, being retirement promotion. Sci-Fi is the only force I’m still active with, so technically I only have three. I wear four on my Hunter uniform because it’s expedient to do so, not because I feel I’ve earned it.”
“Let me guess, you had problems justifying being the boss when other people you employed out-ranked you?”
“Yes, exactly that. I wore an infinity symbol as a rank, before the Americans drafted me after the first pass through Midgard. At least now wearing four stars I was given, solves any problems in the future. Once Sci-Fi release me, I can go back to just being a Merc group leader.”
“Maybe so, but forget that bollocks about not earning your fourth star. I’ve repeatedly watched the combat feeds of every action you’ve had since leaving Dallas the first time. You’re General Smith was right, you are a natural General. And we needed one in an Admiral’s role this time. You let Smith do the infantry work. You left Wellington on Cobol to do the General’s work, while you moved on to the next objective. You did it again on Azgard. You told them what you wanted, and let them do it according to their own expertise. That’s what four stars do. Get used to it. Four stars is what you were made for, and now you’re here, you may as well accept it.”
His grin was impossible to ignore, and my own mirrored his after a moment.
“So,” he went on, “this afternoon. Her Majesty will be reading the citations. I’ll be on her left, you’ll be on my left. Her aide will hand her the medal, she will present it to the recipient, who will bow to her. They’ll then move to face me, shake, salute, and move to you for the same.”
“Why am I there?”
“I’m there as commander of the British Fleet. You’re there as the combat commander of the campaign. If General Wellington was with us, she’d be on the podium as well. All you need to do is shake each person’s hand, and return their salute.”
“I can do that.”
“If something else comes up, our aides will ping us. It’s not normal, but with a young inexperienced Monarch, such things can happen.”
“I wondered about that yesterday. Last I heard the British sector had a King. Since I left Outback, I’ve had no time for events outside my own doorstep, so it was a bit of a shock to see an obviously young Queen at the table last night.”
“We had a disaster here about four months ago. The Queen was the only Royal not in attendance, because of an illness, and so was the only one to survive. At this point, we’re still not sure if it was simply an accident, or an assassination by the Republican movement. As you can imagine, the security around Her Majesty is the tightest it’s ever been now.”
“Didn’t the Royal family wear belts?”
“You mean those suits you and other mercenaries wear?” I nodded. “No, it wasn’t thought appropriate for them, and the King himself was adamant he wasn’t wearing any kind of body armour, as it sent the wrong signals to the people.”
“Only if it’s done badly. There’s no reason why anyone should know anyone is wearing a suit belt. When used with clothes, you simply have the belt appear as a belt, one which goes with the outfit being worn. Do you wear one yourself?”
“No, fleet hasn’t yet addressed the issue. However, I’m pushing it given what happened to Darius and Chet recently. As I understand it, casualties would have been a lot lighter had everyone been wearing a suit belt.”
Get it done.
“Sir… James, it strikes me as the two biggest targets here at the moment, are the Queen, and yourself. Both of you should be wearing suit belts. Let me arrange them for you now.”
“Are you sure no one will be able to tell?”
“No-one can, at least not to casual inspection. If they get close enough to touch, the difference should be obvious, but neither of you should be allowing people close enough for that. The first anyone should know is when they shift to full defense mode in reaction to the proximity of a weapon, or some other threat.”
“Okay. How long will it take to get them?”
“Should be here before we finish lunch.” He nodded.
I pinged the local ‘tool man’, and ordered eight new belts, with three boosters each, to be delivered unpacked as two combined belts of three, and two of two. I asked for immediate delivery to BigMother. The invoice came back immediately, and I paid it.
We sat down to lunch, Alison joining us, with rank put aside.
Jeeves came in with the new belts as we were finishing eating. Once again, I’d failed to eat very much.
I gave one of the two belts to Alison and told her to merge them.
“Why Jon?” she asked. “I already have a fully boosted suit.”
“You and Annabelle are the most vulnerable of the team on the ground, since you rarely wear combat suits. Annabelle nearly bought it on Azgard, with what you have now. While I was getting new belts, I thought I’d give you both the same protection I have.”
She nodded, and we watched as her belts merged into one. Being seen in her underwear by the Marshall for a few moments, didn’t seem to faze her. I gave her the second two, to give to Annabelle before the medal ceremony.
I passed the first of the three’s to James, and we talked him through the setup process. Once complete, I pulsed him chameleon mode in case either of them had to hide at some time. I also talked him through scanning uniforms, so he could make his own suit fatigues. For now though, all he really needed was the combat protection mode, and I made sure he changed the suit to hair trigger activation.
/> I gave him the remaining three belt for the Queen, and had him promise to have her wearing it as soon as he could get her alone before the ceremony. He felt sure this was possible. Lastly, I showed him where the menus of clothes and accessories were, so the Queen could easily choose how she looked.
Now nearly one, we headed for the Marshall’s gig, to return to the Palace.
Twenty Five
By one forty five, I was standing to the left of Bigglesworth, on an ornate podium in a room obviously designed for award ceremonies. When I say standing, I was still on my scooter, as there was no way my left leg could have taken my weight at all, without me passing out. All the same, I was beginning to regret being here. Up until now, I’d not really simply stood around in the same place. I’d been moving from place to place, at each end of which I’d been seated. But for the first time, I now had to stand in one place. As the minutes passed, I was feeling less and less well. It’s funny how pain has a way of making itself felt, when you move the least.
Those due for awards were lined up in ranks in the middle of the room, lowest rank at the front to highest at the back. Susan Bentley would be last. Local dignitaries and British Flag Officers, were seated on the right side, from my perspective, and all others on the left, including my entire team.
Generals Price and Harriman were standing on the other side of where the Queen would stand. I pondered why, but didn’t come up with anything beyond they were there for the same reason I was.
Precisely at two, the Queen was ushered in with all due pomp and ceremony. Marshall Bigglesworth welcomed everyone, and said some words about the campaign, and the role of the British forces in it. I wasn’t really listening.
A military aide to the Queen passed her the first citation and called out the first name. The recipient marched forwards, and braced to attention before the Queen. She read the citation, had the medal passed to her, and passed it over with a few words to the recipient. After bowing to the Queen, he moved to face Marshall Bigglesworth, they shook, saluted, and moved in front of me for the same.