by S. J. Higbee
“Nnng! Nkkk!” said Warren.
“Thank Mother Earth above you pitched up!” Irena sounded shaken. “Liz’s gone star-crazed. Scooped me away from my comrades all set to babble in my ear ʼbout her sorry affair with Romeo. And when I gave her the flickoff, she went into orbit.”
“Don’t know what planet your brain’s on, Irena. But Romeo’s in Regen, busy dying right now.” David sounded weary and distantly disgusted.
“She never said—ˮ Irena’s loud voice thumped through my head.
“Nngg!” Warren’s protest made me realise that I’d increased the pressure on his nostrils in my spike of fury at Irena.
David continued, “She said Romeo needed a new heart and you shut her down, full of your sad little adventure on Ceres. And then your sleeping-bag buddies decided to join in. Called her names. And they jumped her – three to one.”
Pent silence roared around the bar. Someone cursed. Someone shifted. Warren grunted unhappily, as I rearranged myself on his chest.
“What d’you reckon the General will make of it, should he get to see the footage I’ve just been watching?” David asked.
I reckon he’ll roar with laughter and bellow ʼbout my being a chip off the block, not that you’re asking me…
“No! Please... we had each other’s back not so long ago.”
It hurt to smile, but I couldn’t stop the grin as I listened to Irena in grovel-mode.
“Liz? It’s down to you. Cos I’ve thrown a cordon around the bar, but the clock is ticking and I reckon we’ve got less than a couple of minutes before this whole business goes official,” said David.
Still locking looks with Warren, I asked, “What’d make your life smoother? Cos right now I couldn’t give a spent airpack for any of it. I’m more than half minded to pull Warren’s nose off just to see if he looks any prettier on the inside.” It wasn’t much of a stretch to sound like Eddy in torture mode – I’d seen the vids, after all.
Warren’s nasal bleats nearly drowned out the gasps that met my comment.
“Seeing as you’re asking, I’d appreciate it if you’d stand down.” David was nearing the end of his airline, judging from his voice.
So I pulled my fingers out’ve Warren’s nostrils, wiped them on his uniform and jumped free, stumbling a little as some of my injuries decided to announce themselves.
An arm steadied me. And when I spun round, adrenaline spiking once more, it was one of Norman’s Black Shadow’s at my elbow. “At ease, Miss Norman. Let me assist you to the meat-suite. Get you patched up, after the prank went so badly wrong.”
So that’s going to be the official version. As my battle rage faded, I was more than happy to lean on the guard as my legs were debating whether to keep me upright.
Once we got to the meat-suite and a couple of pain patches were slapped onto my hand and my neck, things got a tad hazy. The cut on my forehead was cleaned and skin-weld applied; my thumb was clicked back into place; and my ear slathered with bruise-kleer. I also had a couple of cracked ribs so needed to lie down, staring at the ceiling while the bone-weld machine got to work. Think I even dozed off…
The girl whose nose I broke shook my hand, offering her apologies before we left the bar and the other, older woman with broken ribs rather grudgingly followed suit. Warren had been giving me worried looks while we were walked to the meat-suite, but during the treatment and under the influence of the pain patches, he got outright chatty, even confiding that he reckoned Irena ‘made rocks look smart’. So, we shook on it and professed ourselves even. As for Irena – I figured I’d be happy if I never had to wear my eyes out on her again.
Once back in my room, I stared at my reflection and winced. No wonder I felt like I’d been sicked up from a black hole – I looked a whole lot worse. The skin-weld on the cut across my forehead was swathed in synthgauze to protect it until it fully bonded and the shiny pink finish looked hectically wrong against my spacer-pale complexion. My ear, despite the bruise-kleer, was swollen and purpling. It didn’t help that my eyes were shining like lamps, courtesy of the pain patches. The very thought of sitting down and eating a formal dinner made my stomach roil. Apart from anything else, I reckoned staring at this battered version of me would likely put some of the diners off their meal – and shivered at Norman’s reaction if I appeared looking like this. So, I sent an eardrip pleading a headache and crawled off to bed.
Don’t know why you bothered, Liz. Norman will get to know all about this bust-up at warp speed, anyhow.
Jessica’s comment just as I was drifting off to sleep wasn’t sufficient to pull me back to wakefulness, but it was the first thing that slid through my head as I surfaced the following morning after the best night’s sleep I’d had since Norman had arrived back on Restormel. The churning anger that had been boiling in my backbrain seemed to have eased somewhat. Even though I ached all over and the sodding synthgauze was itching fit to send me star-crazed, I was almost cheerful as I set off for brekkie.
My effort to saunter into the dining room as if everything was normal was ruined by Fina’s shocked cry, “Oh sweeting! What happened to you?”
“I’m fine. Really. It just got a bit lively in the Officer’s Mess last night is all.” I stifled a wince as I slid into my chair, scaldingly conscious of Norman’s baleful glare. “Good morning, Father.”
“What’s so good about it while wearing a face like that, eh?” he growled, his brows beetling together.
I grinned at him. “Cos if I’m looking like this, then the others must look like they been red-shifted through their own arses.”
As I’d hoped, he threw his head back and bellowed with laughter. “You won, then?”
I nodded to the waiter offering to fill my coffee cup, as I replied, “Oh yes.”
“Good for you!” he crowed.
Should I raise the issue of Romeo’s heart now? He’s in a good mood… But looking around the table, I realised he was in the minority of one.
Fina didn’t join in his laughter, giving me a suffering stare, instead.
George also had a sense of humour failure. “Don’t make a habit of this kind of behaviour, Elizabeth. It puts our fighters in a tough spot if you go looking for trouble—ˮ
Thumping my cup back down hard enough to spill my coffee, I snapped, “I might be penned up in adminland, but I’m no soft-handed button-jabber and anyone who reckons to shove me around will find themselves in a world of hurt.”
“Of course, sweetheart. Just like your Big General Bear. And your Mum – she was a proper little firecracker when riled,” Norman commented.
And though it fiercely hurt, I grinned right back, knowing that with the General’s approval the whole biz was going to be allowed to settle without any further repercussions.
*
Though my pleasure evaporated faster than a drop of water on a sunspot as I stepped out of the travellator seat and, recalling the task ahead of me, trudged towards the day’s tasks with the same enthusiasm I’d have shown for a plate of vomit. After a month of wading through these null-headed tasks, my brain will probably seize.
On noticing my battered face, one of the guards winked at me as he opened the doors to Procurement. I tried to grin back, but it felt a limping effort.
Riona screamed.
The piercing sound had me rolling across the floor, away from the entrance, while wishing the sodding security precautions further. I’d wear my knives for sure…
“What is it?” snapped the guard who’d rushed into the area behind me, all set to blast some perp into oblivion.
Riona pointed a trembling finger at me. “Your face! Flaming Mercury, what happened to you?”
“Mother Earth above, Riona! What’re you trying to do? Send us all to an early grave? There’s no call to make such a stupid noise. In fact, it’s an outright dangerous move. And you the daughter of a serving sergeant. You should know better!” snapped Diana, red-faced and clearly furious.
Letting out a noisy sob, Riona rushed of
f to the facilities. Though if she was counting on anyone following her to offer sympathy, she was doomed to disappointment judging from the exasperated looks and comments pattering around the echoing space.
Meanwhile I was preoccupied in standing up without whimpering, as my sudden dive jagged every sore muscle, contusion and barely knitted bone. But as I staggered upright, Rick standing in the doorway of his office, beckoned to me.
Oh, this is shiny. Now I’m gonna get a looong lecture on how I’ve dragged the honour of Procurement through the dirt… I stumbled into his office and eased into his uncomfortable chair, inwardly cursing its lack of vibro-cushioning.
“Oh, my dear,” he said, his face creased in concern. “I’d heard there’d been an incident in the Officer’s Mess last evening involving you and assumed it wasn’t all that serious when you didn’t opt for a sickday. Clearly, I was wrong. Are you alright?”
I felt gut-punched, suddenly struggling to swallow the brick-sized lump in my throat at his unexpected kindness.
Don’t you dare start bawling like some fresh-smacked toddler, you hear me? It’s probably some scuzzy act to get on the inside loop with you, anyhow.
Blinking rapidly as Jessica’s howl rang round my skull, I attempted a smile. “I’m fine. Truly. You should see the others…” But the crack that had so charmed the General didn’t have the same effect on Rick, who merely frowned as he ordered two coffees into his eardrop.
“I’m assuming this is because you are now working in admin,” he said.
I nodded, bracing myself for the lecture. While assuring Jessica that despite being ‘properly softened up’ I wouldn’t fold like wet paper...
“I’m so very sorry, my dear. This must be a major adjustment, which I know wasn’t your choice. Can I offer you just a couple of words of advice?”
Here it comes… I clenched my jaw and stared past his shoulder, waiting for the mouthwhacking.
“I suggest you find somewhere else to drink. While you are fully entitled to use the Officer’s Mess, it is frequented by those on active service. And while we down here are also on active service.” Rick’s wave indicated his small empire. “Our contribution tends to go unacknowledged for the most part. People only notice when they don’t have boots. Or run short on their favourite beverage. Or, worse, find they have to ration munitions during a firefight— Ah, here’s coffee.”
My mouth filled with saliva as I caught a whiff of the delicious, rich aroma.
“And my next tip…”
Finally, he’s gonna slip off the velvet gloves and start punching. I buried my nose in the coffee, shoring up my defences in simple greed.
“Make sure you get plenty of exercise. You’ve been honed to peak physical performance, only to now spend your days working out your gluteal muscles. In fact, see if you can’t interest young Riona in joining you. Perhaps her tendency to overdramatising everything would improve if she exercised more. Now. A pain patch. I absolutely insist. You must be hurting and I need you to be able to concentrate.” He slid across a small packet, his voice suddenly soft, “You don’t always have to do things the hard way and if there’s anything – anything at all I can do to make your transition to working here easier, just ask.”
“Thank you, Rick,” I mumbled, while Jessica yelled that I needed to keep my defences up and that this sorry article was nothing more than a fickle-fingered thief.
But I couldn’t shake the sense that his kindness wasn’t an act and that something else was going down here. Something I was in the middle of, with insufficient intel. Therefore, I resolved to keep the mess of Romeo’s heart away from him. With George as an enemy, Rick had enough problems. Even if he wasn’t aware of them.
*
That evening while getting ready, I tried on the pink dress, only to wince as the colour clashed with the skin-weld covering and the hectic shades my ear was cycling through. While the yellow number simply highlighted the fading bruises, though it looked outright tasteful when compared with my reflection while wearing the dark blue creation…
So I attended the dinner wearing my fatigues and explaining the problem to Norman, who roared with laughter, while again comparing me favourably with himself and Mum. However, the following night when I turned up still wearing my customary tunic and trousers, he scowled. “What d’you think you’re doing – disrespecting these fine guests of mine, turning up looking like you been ditch diving?” he snapped.
Conversation around the table stuttered to a halt as I stood by my chair, about to sit down. “Sorry Father, but those gowns still look dreadful against my face. I assure you no disrespect is intended.”
“Sit your sorry self down and keep it zipped, then!” he snarled.
You could’ve hacked lumps out of the heavy atmosphere with an axe during the meal, though I wasn’t particularly affected, having grown accustomed to coping with the Cap’s mega-sulks. It didn’t help that Rick, sitting next to me throughout the meal, was particularly amusing and animated, even managing to make me laugh. While I didn’t look in his direction, I could feel Norman’s glare burning in my direction. In fact, if the General hadn’t taken his ill temper out on Fina, I’d have found his bleak mood preferable to his ferocious cheerfulness when he baited some lacklucked soul in his staff ‘for a joke’.
But I couldn’t let this state of affairs drag on, given that Romeo needed a new heart and I needed to ask for a very big favour, sooner rather than later. Just before coffee was served, I slipped out of my seat and approached Norman, busy growling at David about some chore he had mishandled. Apparently.
“And what d’you want, then?” He looked me up and down as if I’d just crawled out’ve the bilges. “Because it’s bound to be something. You girls are always whining about the next trendedge piece of flotsam.”
Silence roared around the room, broken only by Fina putting her hand on his arm. “William—”
“Stop pawing me, woman!”
That’s right. Take it out on your lover. Life annoys you and you hurl abuse at your women.
I’d thought I was calm enough to offer my regrets to him with sufficient conviction to win him round. I was wrong. “I came to try and smooth over this business about my not wearing a dress. But it seems I chose the wrong moment, so perhaps it would be better if instead, I bid you good night, General.”
“That’s right! Take your sorry carcass out’ve here. And don’t come back till you learn how to be properly grateful, you spoilt little…” I won’t repeat the words he used.
I stood to attention, fixing my eyes straight ahead as he raved about how I was the most ungrateful waste of space and oxygen he’d ever been cursed to meet. Or words to that effect. His voice boomed around the room as he spat ugly curse words at me with such ferocity, spittle flew out of his mouth.
You see? This is what you’ve gotten yourself entangled with? Norman is dangerous! He just has to say the word and his mercs would line up to kill you deader than deep space.
I gritted my teeth, wishing Jessica further. However, the one bright beam was that her yammering effectively drowned out his rant. He finally worked himself up to a noisy climax, crashing his fist down on the table so that all the crockery jumped. The gravy boat capsized. I focused on the dark brown liquid pouring across the snowy white tablecloth to zone out his screamed insults.
Norman finally ceased.
I cleared my throat, praying my voice wouldn’t wobble. “I’ll say good-night, then.” And in the pent silence, I slowly walked to the door. My nerves were tight-wound, but I could’ve sworn that Fina was struggling not to smile. And George’s stare was disturbingly thoughtful.
I stumbled back to my room, feeling battered. And wondering how I was going to get a heart for Romeo in time to save him.
*
The next two days slid by at the pace of a dozing snail. My work-mates were friendly, the lunches in the Canteen were delicious and Rick Kelbee went out of his way to be approachable. But once I left the lower levels of Restormel, it
was only too clear that word had spread about my fight with Norman. A whole lot of people I’d regarded as friendly acquaintances if not firm friends were suddenly keeping their distance.
The first evening after our quarrel, I had my meal in my room, after having tabbed a message to Norman pleading a headache. I got a curt reply, informing me that I was not welcome in the banqueting room until further notice. So I went for a long run straight after work, then returned to my room for a shower and meal, before visiting the meat-suite.
The third day after our fight, Bernal returned to work. I’ll admit that if you like that starved, androgynous look, he was beautiful. In fact, his pallor accentuated his high cheekbones, thick lashes and moody brown eyes. It certainly affected poor Rick. Whereas I itched to smack that petulant look off his spoiled face. Not that I had any more bother from him. While he wasn’t full of shiny pleasantries as he marched up to my desk and handed me an upload of his personal apology, neither was he sneering fit to split his lip.
However, the cosy atmosphere in the office immediately changed. Everyone looked miserable. Why? Bernal didn’t flex his superior status over the rest of the team. True, Rick was no longer so available to the rest of us. But he still wanted us to all be ‘one big family’. It was one of his constant refrains. Though we got by with a bit of teasing and jokes, it wasn’t as rough as the hazing that goes on between recruits, but the reason behind such apparently harsh treatment is to discover your comrades’ soft spots. Vitally important information when you need support in a firefight…
I gritted my teeth and tried to focus, swallowing down the ache of regret. Having finally ploughed my way through the initial exercise, Diana managed to find another idiot-proof occupation for me. Checking through the delivery datawork and matching the items to the stock lists. Bitterly aware that this was probably done on a weekly basis, so it was a complete waste of my time, I slogged through it, anyhow.
It wasn’t until lunchtime when Rick and Bernal were closeted in his office, that I realised the problem while everyone listlessly picked at the wonderful food. They were sick with jealousy. It didn’t help that Bernal was a sullen little puppy, but men and women alike loved Rick and pined for him. I shivered, relieved that he didn’t want Norman’s job. Because if he had, Norman wouldn’t have stood a chance against the lethal Kelbee charm.