by Jay Allan
Jake could feel the man try to move. His hand was cold, but now it squeezed gently on Taylor’s. “M…a…j…o…r?” He tried to turn his head to look toward Taylor.
“Stay still, son.” Taylor’s voice was soft, gentle. “Don’t try to move.” He was looking at the stricken soldier’s wounds as he spoke. He sighed softly as he did, wanting to turn away, to run from this mangled kid. He can’t be more than seventeen years old, Taylor thought grimly…and he’s going to die right here, scared and in pain.
“What’s your name, son?” Taylor whispered softly, his mouth next to the kid’s ear. Jake’s tactical display would normally have shown him the man’s complete file, but the stricken soldier’s transponder wasn’t working. That explained why he hadn’t been found by the medics. Most of the wounded in this sector had been evac’d, but Chandra had fallen behind a rock outcropping on the edge of the field…and without his transponder, no one had seen him.
“Private…” He had a coughing spasm, and Taylor could see the spray of blood coming from his mouth. “…Private Chandra, sir.” He was still breathing heavily, but the coughing mostly subsided.
Chandra, Jake thought…I don’t remember a Chandra. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling a wave of guilt. This boy could march out here on my orders and fight…and get hideously wounded…but I can’t remember his name. Taylor commanded a lot of troops now, but his expectations of himself hadn’t changed with the scope of his responsibilities.
“What’s your first name?”
Chandra had another coughing spasm, not quite as bad as the previous one. “Sanjay, sir.” He coughed again, spitting up a blob of partially congealed blood. “My name is Sanjay, sir.” Chandra was silent for a few seconds. Then he finally managed to turn his head toward Taylor. “Please help me, sir. I don’t want to die.”
Taylor opened his mouth, but he couldn’t force the words out. Finally, he leaned down and whispered, “You’re not going to die, Sanjay.” He almost choked on the lie. “I already called the medics.”
He wasn’t sure if Chandra believed him or not. Taylor was a 10-year veteran of Erastus…he’d killed hundreds of Machines, and he’d watched thousands of men die. But he couldn’t bring himself to be honest with this broken kid lying in front of him. What would honesty serve now, he thought…what could it do but scared this poor boy even more?
“I want to go home.” Chandra spoke the words softly, wistfully. He was crying, tears streaming down his dirt and blood spattered face.
“I know, Sanjay.” Taylor was trying to sound as soothing as he could. The detritus of battle was all around, but right now all he could think about was comforting this shattered, terrified kid. “I wish I was home too.” He pulled a rock out from under Chandra, trying to make him more comfortable. “Where are you from?” Just keep talking to him, Jake thought…don’t let him die alone.
“New Delhi, sir.” He coughed again, though only for a few seconds this time.
Taylor sat in the hot sand, holding Chandra’s hand. He was trying to think of things to say…anything to keep the dying soldier distracted. He knew it wouldn’t be long. It was a miracle the kid was still alive. So many men have died in this war, he thought, alone and unsuccored…does comforting one really make a difference?
Chandra’s body tensed and wracked with another coughing spasm. He fell back, moaning in pain. “I’m scared, sir.”
“I know, Sanjay.” Jake was trying to keep the emotion in his own voice under control, but it was hard to answer. He felt grief…and anger. He railed inside against his own helplessness. Veteran…Supersoldier. None of it meant a fucking thing. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say. Nothing but sit and watch Sanjay Chandra die, terrified and in pain, in the bitter sands of an alien world.
“Don’t be afraid. We’ll have you out of here soon.” Taylor hated himself even as he said it. “Just be calm. Close your eyes and stay still.” He could hear Chandra’s breathing become rough, unsteady. It won’t be long, now, he thought. He watched the young soldier struggling for his last breaths, and the grief welled up inside him. He wanted to cry for this boy, but he couldn’t. His mechanical eyes didn’t produce tears. One more thing they had taken from him.
Chandra’s chest heaved with one more deep rattling breath, and then he was still, silent. Sanjay Chandra was dead.
Taylor sat silently for a few moments, turning away, unable to bring himself to look at the dead soldier lying next to him. He knew nothing about Chandra…nothing at all, really. But he realized he’d never forget him. The image of this dead soldier would stay with him the rest of his life.
“Sir, are you OK?” The medical team trotted around the outcropping, looking down at Taylor and Chandra.
Jake felt a wave of anger. Why, he thought, why are you worried about me? But he pushed it back. It wasn’t the medics’ fault.
“I’m fine, Sergeant.” He started to get up. The medic closest to him moved to help, but Taylor waved him off. “He’s dead.” Taylor was looking down at the still form of the boy he’d been talking to a few minutes before. “Transponder was damaged…and he forgot to administer his medkit.” Rookies, Taylor thought sadly.
He turned and walked away slowly, without another word.
Chapter 14
From the Journal of Jake Taylor:
I met a girl here. I met her a long time ago. I don’t know why I never wrote about her before. Maybe it was too soon after I’d lost Beth. Or maybe I wanted to keep one thing just for myself, not even to share with this journal. I don’t know for sure.
Her name is Hope. I remember laughing when she told me. It’s a pretty name, but I can’t think of one less appropriate on Erastus. It’s no great romance story, ours…there is no such thing here. The only women on the planet are sex workers assigned to provide support services to the thousands of men in the combat units. There are no female soldiers serving in UNFE…not in any UN military force…nor are any UN administrators I’ve ever encountered women. I haven’t even seen a woman outside the brigade brothel in ten years.
The brothels are an integral part of every military force structure serving on a Portal world. We fight a war with no leaves, no trips home, no towns to visit for R&R. Not even a box of cookies sent from mom. Desertion isn’t a problem…there’s nowhere to go anyway, so why run? But mental breakdowns are common. You can force a lazy man to work, even compel a coward to fight. But when a man doesn’t care anymore…really doesn’t care…then he is uncontrollable. Punishment doesn’t work, threats don’t work. When a man loses it on Erastus, UN Central’s investment in training and transport goes up in smoke. The brothels provide a release, a stress reliever. The keep men on the brink from falling into the abyss.
UN Command calls the whole thing Sexual Support Services, or SSS. The program exists for a number of reasons, and the brigade facilities are an integral component of the military discipline system. Periodic visits to the SSS compounds are a privilege, one that can be withdrawn for soldiers or units that don’t perform as expected. For a lifetime soldier with no prospect of going home, a few hours with a woman is the only escape from a life of constant duty and bloodshed. It is part of the delicate morale system that kept men with no hope in the field and fighting.
I’ve sometimes wondered what the women had done to be consigned to such fates. Were they criminals? Political prisoners? Or just women blackmailed or conscripted, as I was? As far as I can tell, they serve life terms, just as we do. I’m not sure how that works over the long term. No one worries about what to do with a 70 year old soldier, because none of us live that long. Sooner or later, the god of battle comes for all of us. But the women of SSS don’t have the attrition rate we do. Certainly, some succumb at a young age, victims of a hostile environment or virulent alien pathogens. But most can expect to live something approaching a normal lifespan. What will happen to them when they are too old to continue their function effectively? I don’t know – the war on Erastus hasn’t been going on long enough
for that situation to arise. But I don’t like the things that come to mind. Another dark secret, the kind of thing most people would rather not know about.
My father served alongside women in the old US Navy. Indeed, a woman had been the U.S. president when he enlisted. He mentioned it incidentally when he was telling me about his time in uniform. It was something I’ve never much considered, not until recently. I didn’t really know anything about military service, not before I ended up a soldier myself. And when I found myself on Gehenna fighting the Machines, I just adapted to the military establishment I’d become a part of.
Now it’s been ten years, and I’ve started to think more about it… about a lot of things I’d given cursory attention before. I know that some of the old military establishments had been gender-integrated but, again, that was pre-Consolidation history, and it wasn’t safe to go poking around too much. Most serious information on the old nation-states was on the quarantined list, and it was next to impossible to get anything reliable. UN Central didn’t want people waxing poetic about their ethnic and nationalistic histories…not while there was still living memory of the time before the Consolidation. I thought I understood that thinking once, and even approved. Eliminating anything that threatened the peaceful unity of mankind seemed worthwhile, even if it came at the cost of intellectual freedom. Now, I see other perspectives. Darker ones.
I used to wonder why UN Central didn’t recruit women, how the female gender had taken such a massive step back in equality and opportunity. Then I realized. The Consolidation had necessitated combining different cultures, each with their own gender, racial, and religious traditions. In the end, terrified by the prospect of the Machines invading, all of the nations of Earth voluntarily surrendered their sovereignty to the UN. The earliest nations to push for world unity had the greatest impact on the coalescing multinational culture…and most of those states were from the developing world, places where gender inequalities were often deeply ingrained in the way of life.
Back home things were different. My mother, Beth…all the women I knew…they weren’t treated as second-class citizens in any way I’d ever noticed. But New Hampshire had been part of the old U.S., and from what I knew of pre-Consolidation American culture, the genders had been more or less equal in terms of rights and societal obligations. UN Central didn’t interfere too much with local customs. They didn’t make a big deal out of it…nothing that could turn into a rallying cry. They didn’t talk about it at all; they just went ahead and did what they wanted. Now that I thought about it, I’d never noticed a woman in any significant government position. The Inquisitor who’d come to our farm demanding the taxes…the recruiting agent who offered a waiver of the debt in exchange for my enlistment. Our local UN Admin…and every other one in the surrounding areas. All men.
I remembered my father’s rants, his constant complaints about UN Central and how much we had all lost since he was younger. Now I wondered about those women he’d served with, about what they felt they had lost. They had served their country, bled for it – some had died for it - and their reward was to see their daughters and grand-daughters barred from the same freedoms and opportunities they had enjoyed. I saw my father’s anger first hand, but now I wondered about those women. I couldn’t imagine how they lived with the bitterness. It was a different hell than mine, but perhaps one as painful in its own way.
*
Taylor was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning forward, holding his head in his hands. He hadn’t said a word in over an hour. He used to look forward to his allotments at the SSS facility, especially after he met Hope. She was pretty enough, especially by Erastus standards…but it was more than that. She had a tenderness, an empathy…a gentleness that was utterly at odds with every other aspect of his life. He was drawn to her; she made him feel whole again, at least for a little while. He felt a longing to help her too, to give to her the same comfort she provided him. Indeed, much of the solace he got from her came from knowing that he was there for her as much as she was for him. It made him feel normal, just for a few minutes. It might not be a real relationship they shared, but it was close enough that they could both pretend.
He enjoyed the sex, of course, but he also looked forward to just seeing her, sitting and talking. Jake was fortunate enough to have a close knit group of friends he could talk to when he needed an ear, but there was something different about spending time with a woman.
Troopers weren’t supposed to see the same women all the time…UNFE Command didn’t want relationships developing, just scheduled recreation. But as Taylor’s rank rose, so did his influence…and he was able to insure that he only saw Hope.
Now he sat with his back toward her. It had been five years since his mods had been installed, but he was still self-conscious about it. He’d avoided using his SSS allotments for months after the surgeries were complete. He made one excuse after another but, finally, he was ordered outright to go. SSS services weren’t optional in UNFE. They were a crucial part of the morale and mental health program designed to keep the army in the field at top fighting efficiency.
When he finally saw her for the first time after the surgery, she acted like everything was normal, even though it was the first time in almost a year that she’d seen him. She tried not to stare, but it was hard to ignore the metallic fittings protruding from his shoulders and his hips. He was still getting used to his increased strength, and when she finally coaxed him into bed, she came out of the encounter bruised from head to toe, a long, bloody scratch on her leg from the rough metal of one of his exo interfaces.
When he saw what he had done to her, he was horrified. It was months before he touched her again. He kept every appointment as ordered. But he wouldn’t go near her, wouldn’t risk hurting her again. It was at least another year before their encounters reached something like normalcy.
“Jake, are you OK? You’ve been so quiet.” Her voice was soft, gentle. Life had dealt her a fate as bitter as his, but she never seemed angry or resentful because of it.
Jake had kept himself from sliding down that slope for a long time too, but now his grip was failing. The anger, the bitterness…they were starting to win, starting to take control. Maybe if they hadn’t made him into a cyborg, he thought…perhaps then he could have maintained a few shreds of the faith that kept men – and women – going on Erastus. But they weren’t happy just taking his home and family and the only life he’d known…now they had come back for his humanity. Now, Jake believed, he truly was good only for war.
He was silent for a few more seconds before he turned to face her. “Oh…sorry.” He tried to hold back a sigh. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking.” He forced a smile for her, though he couldn’t imagine it was very convincing.
“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” She reached out and gently ran her hand down his back. He flinched at her first touch, but then he settled down. “You’re so tense. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
He did want to talk…at least he didn’t want to shut her out. But he didn’t know what to say…how to put it into words. Even if he managed to explain…he didn’t want to burden her, or bring her down with him. He’d been troubled lately, more than usual. And it was getting worse.
She slid across the bed, putting her arms around him from behind, pulling him closer. She rested her face on his shoulder, expertly avoiding the metal fittings protruding from his skin.
He closed his eyes, just for a few seconds. The feeling of her soft skin against his relaxed him, but only for an instant. He was too distracted, too consumed by thought for anything more.
“Jake, what is it?” She kissed him softly on the neck.
He felt an urge to pull away from her, but he resisted. That would only be hurtful to her…and that was the last thing he wanted. He didn’t intend to talk about it, to unload on her…but then it just started to come out.
“I saw a kid die.” He paused. “It was during the battle we jus
t fought.” He laughed derisively. “I don’t suppose that should be a big deal. I’ve lost count of how many rookies I’ve seen butchered in ten years on this shithole planet.”
He turned toward her, keeping his head at an angle, trying to hide his mechanical eyes from her misty green ones. She took his face in her hand and turned, forcing him to look at her. It was his eyes, she had long ago realized…that was what he was most self-conscious about.
“Was there something special about this one?” She didn’t like the sound of that when she heard herself say it, and she immediately restated it. “I mean anything beyond the ordinary about the incident?” Her voice was warm, sympathetic.
Taylor was silent for a few seconds. He subconsciously tried to turn his eyes away again, but her hand gripped his face, stroking his cheek gently and turning him back to face her.
“No, not really.”
There was exhaustion in his voice, and disillusionment. He’d been like this before, but this was the worst she’d ever seen him. She laid her face against his shoulder and listened quietly.
“But it feels different. He was just like a thousand kids I’ve watched die. They all hurt.” He paused again. “But this isn’t the same. I think maybe every man has his limit. Watching every one of these boys die takes away a part of your soul. Maybe mine is just empty.”
She knew he didn’t really want to discuss things…he just wanted to let it out. There was nothing she could say that was going to make him feel better anyway, so she just listened, running her hand gently across his bare back. He always liked that…it relaxed him.
“Every man has his limit,” he repeated. “I should have died a long time ago, Hope.” His voice sounded distracted, far away…as if he was lost in old memories. “It would have been a mercy.”