by Jay Allan
“Don’t say that, Jake.” Her voice was soft…and a little sad. She didn’t like seeing him suffer so…watching him punish himself. “You know better than anyone how many boys you’ve saved. If you’d had died yourself, none of them would have survived either.”
“Maybe.” He sounded unconvinced. “But most of them died anyway…just a month later, or a year later.” Another pause. “And maybe they were the lucky ones. I’ve only prolonged the suffering for the men I saved.”
He looked down, staring at the stark whiteness of the bedcovering. “I’m going to quit, Hope.” His voice was deadpan, utterly serious. “I’m going to tell them to take this stupid war and shove it up their asses.”
She felt the tension in the pit of her stomach. If Taylor refused his duty they would take him away. If he continued to resist, they would shoot him. She was afraid of what might happen…and terrified of losing him. She had no more illusions about their relationship than he did, but she knew she needed him. She had lost a life and a family just as he had. Now she was consigned to spend the rest of her life as a sex worker on the most miserable hell man had ever found. Her visits with Jake were the only thing she cared about. They sustained her. Thinking of the next time she’d see him carried her through her days. It made her want to live. She didn’t think of it as love…she didn’t even know if such a thing was possible someplace like Erastus. But he was a kindred spirit of sorts and, for two lost souls, that was enough.
“Jake, you can’t.” There was a touch of desperation in her voice, a need to convince him, to pull him back from the brink. “I understand how you feel, but they’ll shoot you.”
He almost smiled. “Would that be so bad? Quick, almost painless.”
“Yes, it would be bad.” She was speaking louder, almost yelling. “You’re not thinking clearly right now. And what about me? What about your friends? Your men? Think about all of us before you do something stupid and reckless.” She was forcing back a sob as she spoke. “We need you.”
He was quiet for a few seconds, looking up at her, reaching his hand out and taking hers. “You’re right.” His tone was soft, almost apologetic. “I’m just frustrated.”
She didn’t say anything, but she wasn’t convinced. It was a lot more than frustration; that was obvious. She knew Jake needed her help, but she didn’t know what to do, how to reach him. She smiled at him, but inside she was scared to death.
She watched him get dressed, and she kissed him goodbye before he left. She heard the click of the door closing behind him. Then the tears came.
Chapter 15
From the Journal of Jake Taylor:
I have too much time to think. When you are young, your mind wants to believe in things. Belief is a powerful force. It can sustain a person through grueling trials and agonizing torment. It can also cloud judgment, lead even an intelligent person to accept and passionately defend the worst sort of nonsense. Some of the most amazing things in history were driven by belief…and some of the most horrific calamities as well. I’d like to say I think belief is a good force more often than a bad one. I’d like to say that, but I can’t.
I believed when I was younger. I looked past the things that seemed needlessly hurtful, tried to understand why things were done to me, to my loved ones. I accepted the rules and regulations…and the heavy taxes and levies that barely left us what we needed to get by…and sometimes not enough. I didn’t question anything I was told, not seriously at least. There were people with less, people UN Central was struggling to help. The war against the Tegeri was raging too, and that struggle was funded by Earth’s citizens. I believed, as I was told, that it was unpatriotic to question any of it.
Even when I was taken from my family and sent to Erastus I still believed. I was bitter and heartbroken certainly, but I told myself I was fighting to defend hearth and home…my family and friends and billions more like them. I was doing the ultimate duty as a citizen.
The restrictions, the regulations, the monitor installed in our home…I believed it was all necessary. UN Central had eliminated war on Earth; it had thwarted terrorism. All the terrible things mankind endured throughout history. Why would anyone question their motives?
I wonder now how I was so stupid, so blind. For ten years I’ve seen the arrogance of the UN personnel sent here on limited tours. I’ve seen the contempt they feel for those of us consigned here…the ones without influence or patronage. They see us as pieces of equipment they use and discard…nothing more. Any organization that produces such people is rotten…unworthy of belief, of faith.
They enlist us for life, denying us return trips to Earth, even if we survive five or ten years in this hell. They blame the cost, say the energy to transport us back would be too expensive. I believed that once, but now I feel like a fool for it. The few miserable wrecks of men who survive a five year enlistment…how much could it cost to send them home? When I think about it, I am amazed at how little it takes to get people to believe, to throw away their judgment, their intelligence, and blindly follow their masters’ orders.
It has nothing to do with energy. They’ve transported hundreds of times my body weight in food and ammunition just to sustain me over the last ten years. Yet I am consigned to die on this miserable rock because it is prohibitively expensive to send me home? How could I have been such a fool to believe nonsense like that? How could all of us have been?
The truth is, they don’t want us back on Earth. Trained killers who’ve lived for years outside the normal Earth routine of constant surveillance. That’s why they don’t let us go home. I figured out part of that a while back, but now I realize the whole truth. They are afraid of my brethren and me, even as they need us to fight their wars. It is from stuff such as us that revolutions are made.
I know I shouldn’t be writing these things. Blackie would tell me to stop, that it wasn’t safe. I know that’s true, but I don’t care. I just don’t care. Let them come…let them take me away. Let them come and destroy the perfect little soldier they spent so much to build. But they better bring a lot of force with them when they come. Because I am the killing machine they created, and I won’t go down without a fight.
*
“I said I’m done.” Taylor sat calmly in the soft leather chair. He was a little surprised to be in a fancy office and not in shackles in some prison cell, but he didn’t let it show. “I’ve given you enough…more than any of you deserve.” Taylor had told his story twice already, first to his immediate superior and then to General Hammon, commander of UNFE. Now he was in the office of the man who’d recruited him into the Supersoldier program.
Gregor Kazan was angry, but he was hiding that as well as Taylor was concealing his surprise. He felt it was beneath him to argue and negotiate with a soldier…even a war hero carrying the rank of major. But he didn’t need this shit right now. He would be confirmed as Undersecretary in another two months, and the success of the Supersoldier project was the primary reason. Bringing up the first participant of the program on desertion charges would be disastrous. It would delay the vote, at least…and very possibly cost him the promotion. And he wasn’t about to let that happen. Whatever he had to do.
“Major Taylor, I understand that your experiences in battle have been - how shall I put it? - troubling.” He looked over at Taylor, his manufactured expression one of sympathy, of understanding.
Jake knew it was fake, every bit of it…but he couldn’t help but admire the skill it must have taken Kazan to look so sincere when he was so full of shit. If nothing else, a career in government teaches you to lie like a pro, he thought. “I am not troubled, Mr. Kazan.” He stared at the UN functionary with an emotionless expression on his face. “I am simply done.”
Kazan felt the rage surging through his body, but he clamped down on it. He’d only been on Erastus to make a display of how closely he was watching the program…a little theater preceding the confirmation vote. Now, he realized how fortuitous it was for him to be here when Taylor deci
ded to have his meltdown.
“Major, you know better than anyone that the army does not function in that way. Your service, as much as it is appreciated, is not optional. You voluntarily enlisted and, in doing so, you agreed to abide by the regulations and responsibilities of the service.”
“Voluntarily?” Taylor spat the word. “You think my enlistment was voluntary?” He glared across the desk.
“Indeed I do, Major Taylor.” Kazan returned the stare. “My records indicate that the Revenue Department forgave a massive underpayment of taxes in return for your agreeing to serve.” His eyes narrowed, boring into Jake’s. “I believe that was very fair. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been necessary if your family had met its obligations.”
“We almost starved that year, Mr. Kazan.” Taylor was determined to suppress his anger, but he was starting to lose his hold on it. “How do you imagine we could have paid the taxes?”
Kazan took a breath and shifted in his seat. “Do you suppose the government’s obligations disappear because of your family’s financial mismanagement? Does the war cease? Do the soldiers on the front no longer require food and weapons?” His voice was becoming sharper…not angry, at least not yet…but the tension was showing. “I do not propose to rehash the facts surrounding your enlistment, Major, nor debate UN policies. You agreed to the terms of service, and your government requires you to comply.” He paused, eyes still fixed on Taylor. “Now return to your unit, Major. Because of your war record, I will see to it that this unfortunate incident is forgotten.”
“No.” Taylor just sat where he was, not uttering another word.
“Major Taylor, I don’t think you understand me. If you reject my offer, you will be arrested, court-martialed for desertion and, in all likelihood, executed.” Kazan’s anger was showing now, and his shock as well. “Do you understand?”
My God, Taylor thought…the miserable little prick actually thinks he’s being generous. “I understand, Mr. Kazan.” Taylor paused, just for emphasis. “I simply don’t care.”
Kazan could feel his hands curling into fists. Taylor was calling his bluff. He thought for a minute, wondering if there was a way he could endure Taylor’s downfall without risking his appointment. He’d love nothing more than to see the arrogant piece of shit dragged from his office in chains. But there was no way. The first participant of the program? A hero of Taylor’s stature? It would cast doubt on the entire project…and on his supervision. It would be a devastating blow.
“Major Taylor, whatever opinions you may have developed toward UN Central or UNFE, surely you understand the importance of the war effort.” Kazan was trying another approach. “We must defend Earth against the alien threat.”
Taylor hesitated. Kazan had hit a weakness. Whatever sins UN Central may have committed, he still felt a responsibility to the civilians back on Earth. “Yes, Mr. Kazan. I agree. However, I have served ten years. I have done my duty. Far more than others have.” He didn’t say anything further, but he glared right at Kazan.
“Major, you may feel that what you have done is enough, but that is not your decision.” Kazan’s voice was getting colder. “Now, I am going to tell you this one last time. Return to duty immediately, and we will forget this conversation.”
Taylor almost smiled. What a lying piece of shit, he thought…does this imbecile really think I believe anything he is saying? Taylor knew Kazan wouldn’t forget…he wouldn’t forget anything. He’d wait, pick some time when it was less politically damaging. But Taylor knew one day Kazan would come for him. The die was cast. He had crossed his own Rubicon.
“Tell me, Mr. Kazan…” Taylor’s tone became darker, more threatening. “…why are we enlisted for life? And please don’t tell me it’s the energy needed to transport us back. Because that is the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”
Kazan was almost apoplectic with rage, but he still managed to hold most of it in check. “Major Taylor, I can assure you that everything you have been told about UN policy is the absolute truth.”
Taylor snorted derisively. “Spare me, Mr. Kazan. I am not the stupid, inexperienced fool you drafted and sent here to die.” Jake’s tone was icy, like death itself. “Do you think I really don’t know why you don’t want any veterans returning home?”
Kazan sat looking back, a stunned expression on his face. Taylor was taunting him, challenging him to call for the guards and have him arrested. The crazy fool really didn’t care what happened to him.
“I fought for ten years to defend Earth…it’s the only good reason I was ever given to be here.” Taylor’s sat perfectly still as he spoke. “But now I wonder if a species that voluntarily surrendered its freedom to the likes of you out of nothing but base fear is even worth defending.”
Kazan slammed his hand on his desk. “That is enough, Major Taylor.” He stood up, his chair falling over backwards behind him. “You will go back because you are told to do so, you arrogant, insignificant nothing!” Kazan had lost all control over his rage.
“You will go back because I need you there. Because those miserable recruits stumbling like cattle through that Portal will die that much more quickly without you there.” He stared at Taylor, hatred burning in his eyes. “I don’t care how many we have to send through…how many thousands die. Do you? There are always more ignorant farm boys to send through.” He moved closer, his face 30 centimeters from Jake’s. “How do you feel about that? Do you care about the thousand…the ten thousand…others that will be sent here, ones who might have remained home to live out their miserable lives?”
Taylor was silent. Kazan had hit a tender spot. Jake had come to believe the newbs he saved were doomed anyway, but the thought of more young men being forced into service to replace them was something he hadn’t considered.
“You like the thought of that?” Kazan’s voice dripped with bitterness and condescension. “How about those friends of yours?”
Taylor’s gaze had shifted from Kazan, but now it snapped back.
“Captains Black and Samuels…Lieutenants Young and Daniels…if you defy me again, they will lead their forces into the most hopeless battles men have ever fought. You will sit in a cell, and before you are shot, you will know that every one of them is dead, their bodies left to rot and blow away in the desert.”
Taylor’s shoulders fell. Kazan’s words were slicing into him like daggers, draining his resolve.
“And that girl you like so much…” Kazan’s voice dripped with venom. “…I will find the most sadistic gang of twisted sodomites in Earth’s worst freezones, and I will have them conscripted and sent here. And I will give her to them, let them use her to vent their anger. I’ll make sure she knows why before I do.” Kazan was relishing the words as he spoke them. “She’ll think she was fucked by a felled tree by the time they’re done…by the time they have used her in every sick and degrading way you can imagine. And a hundred you can’t. And then she will die too, cursing your name.”
Taylor sat silently, hunched over, his spirit broken. The fight was gone, the determination drained entirely from his body, from his soul. He had lost, and he knew it. “I’ll go back.” He spoke softly, almost a whisper.
“What was that, Major?” Kazan was gloating, the arrogance in his voice unmistakable. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”
“I said I’ll go back.” Taylor forced it out, loud and clear.
Kazan nodded. “Then get going.” He gestured toward the door. “But first, don’t you think you should thank me, Major? For making you see the light.” Kazan was determined to humiliate Taylor.
Taylor was struggling, trying to keep from lunging at Kazan. He could kill the miserable little bureaucrat in less than a second; he was sure of that. But Kazan would have his vengeance from the grave…every punishment he’d promised, every horror he threatened to heap on Hope and Blackie and the others…Jake knew all that would happen if he killed the miserable piece of dogshit.
“Thank you.” Taylor spat it out.
“You are welcome, Major.” Every word was a mockery, sapping what little remained of Jake’s spirit. “I trust that you will be a good little soldier from now on?”
Taylor just nodded. Then he got up and wordlessly walked to the door.
“Wait, Major.” Kazan’s voice was imperious.
Taylor turned and looked back. “Yes?” His voice was pure exhaustion.
“Here.” Kazan tossed a small box to Taylor.
Jake glanced down. There were two small silver eagles in the container. What is this, he thought…some kind of sick fucking joke? He stared at Kazan, a confused look on his face.
“It’s a schedule promotion, Ma…Colonel Taylor. And we don’t want anyone thinking anything is out of the ordinary, do we?”
Taylor didn’t say a word. He put the box in his pocket and walked out the door.
Chapter 16
From the Journal of Jake Taylor:
Darkness and despair. They are my world, my reality. The closer we get to victory, the more leaden my spirit becomes. There is a feeling of hope in the air among the men…but it is false. The troops can feel victory; they can perceive the weakening of the Machines. But that triumph will not be ours, the men who fought and bled for it. It will be UN Central’s. For us, banished forever from home, there is nothing.
People will trust in something simply because they cannot face the reality that there is so little worth believing in. It’s a defense, your mind’s attempt to protect itself from surrender, from madness. I look back on things I accepted, that I believed, and I feel like a fool. Being honest with yourself, seeing things for what they truly are…it is exhausting. I feel a gloominess I cannot adequately describe. I am lost…there is nothing, nothing at all to work for, to strive for, to fight for. Nothing I do, nothing any of my men do, will make any difference.
I see how people think, how they convince themselves of so many things, utterly ignoring the facts to do so. Part of me wants to grab them, shake them…make them see things for what they really are. The hopelessness…the corruption and evil that permeate every aspect of life. But what would that serve? I let them deceive themselves…it is little more than a mercy. I see the truth, but they, poor deceived fools, are far better off than I.