Anna looked at him for a long time. Her green eyes dragged him back until nothing else existed but the two of them. “I’ve got something to tell you,” she said at last.
“What?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Michael heard the words, but they made no sense. He shook his head, confused. “Pregnant? What do you mean … Ah, you’re pregnant!”
“Ten points, Einstein,” Anna said with a smile.
“Oh,” Michael said. He choked. Unable to speak, he pulled her back into an embrace that lasted five lifetimes.
“Hey, spacer boy,” Anna murmured at last, “we have to go.”
“No, we don’t. I’m not moving. You’re pregnant … I don’t believe it.”
“You should, and yes, it’s yours in case you’re wondering.”
“Anna!” Michael hissed in protest.
“Sorry,” she said; she kissed him full on the lips. “My idea of a bad joke.”
“You’re right. It’s over. So what now?”
“I’ve got us a ride to McNair spaceport. We’ve got places on the Morkosh Star, and we’ll be onboard when it breaks orbit tomorrow. I never want to see this asshole of a planet ever again.”
“Whoa, slow down. The Morkosh Star. What’s that all about?”
“All the Feds are shipping out over the next few weeks, but I’ve fixed it so we go tomorrow with the first batch.”
“Why the rush? It’d be good to catch up with Admiral Jaruzelska. Vaas too.”
Anna frowned. “I’m sorry,’ she said, her eyes filled with anguish, “but Jaruzelska‘s dead.”
Michael’s head slumped. “Why her?” he said after a while. “After all she’s done, after all she’s risked, she deserved …” He couldn’t say any more, crushed by the brutal injustice of it all. “She was a brave woman,” he said at last. “I’ll miss her.”
“We all will. But she died—”
Michael put his fingers to Anna’s lips. “Not now, later. I just can’t take any more, not right now. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath to flush the emptiness out of his soul. “What’s the plan?” he asked.
“General Vaas says the Feds have done their bit and we should leave the Revivalists and NRA to finish the job. Having us around will only confuse things. The locals have enough to think about without worrying that we might be trying to take over.”
“But I can’t go anywhere near the Federated Worlds. FedPol … they’ll arrest me. You know.” Michael shivered. “I can’t risk it.”
“I know, but who said we were going home?”
Michael frowned. “Where else would we go?”
“The Morkosh Star’s first port of call is Scobie’s. I’ve booked us on a ship to Jagnesh, and once we’re there, we’ll find the most exclusive resort the place has to offer and then take … oh, I don’t know … a month to make that decision. Maybe two.”
“I’d like that,” Michael said. “We can get the family over as well. I have some serious apologizing to do, not just to my mom and dad but to yours too.”
“You don’t need to apologize for anything.”
“We’ll see, but there is one tiny problem. You said Jagnesh?”
“Yup. No extradition treaty with the Federated Worlds and great beaches.”
“Isn’t it the most expensive system in humanspace?”
“Not quite, but it’s in the top hundred for sure. But so what? Who cares?”
“Money, Anna. We don’t have any. I spent all mine chartering that freighter I trashed, and the last time I checked, an NRA colonel’s pay is peanuts.”
“All true, my love,” Anna said with a smile, “which is why General Vaas asked me to give you this.” She whipped out a card and waved it at him.
Michael stared at Anna in disbelief. “Vaas gave you a cash card?”
“He sure did: a million FedMarks, to be precise. Reimbursement for expenses incurred, he said. He’ll be in touch when things settle down. Now, our lift won’t wait forever. Are you coming or not?”
“Try and stop me,” Michael said, the urge to leave all the pain and suffering behind almost overpowering.
They picked up their packs and walked across the plaza in front of the station to where a massive truckbot waited, its Hammer markings obscured by crude slashes of black paint.
Five minutes later, the bot set off. Michael was utterly content to lie with Anna beside him and stare up at the sky.
Not once did he look back.
About the Author
Photograph © Andrew Sharp Paul
Graham Sharp Paul was born in Sri Lanka. He has an honors degree in archaeology and anthropology from Cambridge University and an MBA from Macquarie University. He joined the Royal Navy in 1972; he qualified as a minewarfare and clearance diving officer in 1977 and reached the rank of lieutenant commander before transferring to the Royal Australian Navy in 1983. Graham left the RAN in 1987. After working on a range of business development and corporate finance projects, he retired in 2003. He lives in Sydney with his wife, Vicki, has three sons and two granddaughters.
HELFORT’S WAR BOOK V: THE FINAL BATTLE is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, incidents, and persons are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual names, characters, places, incidents, or persons alive or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © Graham Sharp Paul 2012. All rights reserved. Published by Graham Sharp Paul.
Cover Art Copyright © Chris McGrath 2102.
Cover Design Copyright © Alessio De Vecchi 2012.
E-Book production by 52 Novels.
e-Book ISBN 978-0-9872613-1-1
Table of Contents
Betrayed...
Also by Graham Sharp Paul
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
THE FINAL BATTLE | Helfort's War: Book 5
Plan View of Humanspace
About the Author
Copyright
The Final Battle Page 33