by P J Strebor
"I'm sorry, Moe." The quaking rasp revealed a self-loathing she had never seen from Nathan before. "You know I didn't mean …" Moe bit her lip as hot tears spilled down his cheeks.
"Who's your best friend," she said, forcing a sad smile. "Who is your very best friend?"
His voice cracked as he responded with the old litany. "You are, Moe Okuma. You are my very best friend."
At that point the stone man cracked. “Oh God, I miss them Moe. I try not to, but I miss them every day. I thought today would make it better but …” The long repressed tears streamed down his face. He brushed a sleeve angrily across his face and sniffed. Nathan threw his head back took a huge breath and expelled it in one giant rush.
“So, Moe, how did you get so smart all of a sudden?”
“Wadda ya mean, all of a sudden?”
“God I’m tired.”
“Time for truth between us, Nate. Let me carry some of the load.” She nudged his arm. “You know you want to.” Moe knew she had never spoken a truer word.
“How much of those six years do you remember?”
“Every single day.”
He drew in enormous breath expelling it between pursed lips.
He told her of the Francs failure to protect the Iberian system and Bellinda’s capture by Pruessen navy units.
“A Pruessen naval commerce raiding party?” Moe said. “They haven’t tried anything like that since the war.”
“Yes they have, Moe. They’ve just never been caught.” He shrugged. “We came about and made a run for the I/M but no freighter outruns an E boat. Long story short, we were captured and taken into the north. Because of the Franc’s failure to meet their League responsibilities we spent the next four years as slaves of the Pruessen Empire. Never again ask me why I hate the Francs.”
“Four years, Nate?”
“We played a patient waiting game luring the guards into thinking they’d broken us. When the time was right, we escaped. A Pruessen escort boat caught us shy of the I/M and shot us up pretty badly but we got away.”
“You’ll have to tell me how you did that one day.”
“Hmm. Our communications were destroyed during our escape so we couldn’t call for help. We made for the nearest Athenian world. Our hyper generator blew as we passed through the planet’s inner marker. We had no choice. We crash landed on the surface.” Nathan’s haunted expression sent a chill down Moe’s spin. “We’d been out of touch with everything for four years. We didn’t know Delos had been exposed.”
“Delos? God almighty.”
“There’s no God on Delos.” He rubbed his eyes. “Two years later the Monitor Impudent discovered me.” He shrugged. “I then spent a delightful four months at the ANS Bio Deterrent Research facility on Mylor. The doctor’s would have killed me with their, how did they put it, oh yeah, their research. In the end it was all for nothing. I’m a one in a billion genetic freak who happens to have a natural immunity. To get out of that hellhole I made a deal with the devil. The devil in this case was an Athenian Naval Intelligence officer. If I talked about my time in the north, he assured me it would lead to war with Pruessen. Athens would do anything to avoid entering into a military operation within a plague zone. So he made up the cover story and I went along with it.”
“Shit.”
“Even after thirty years the thought of bringing the plague back into League space is as feared as ever. Athens would do anything to avoid war with Pruessen because of the understandable fear.”
Another thought struck Moe. “How the hell did you survive on your own for two years on Delos?”
“That’s because of my Prep.” Moe’s face inquired for more. “My premonition pain. It’s a warning of danger. Before you ask, I don’t know where it came from or how it manifests itself. All I do know is that without it I would not have survived on Delos.” He shrugged. “That’s the bones of the whole ugly story.”
“And today? Something else happened today.”
Nathan rubbed his eyebrow. “Yeah. I have no idea about that. It surprised me more than you.”
“You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”
Nathan’s expression turned dark.
“By telling you this, I’ve put your life in danger, Moe.” Nathan seized her by the shoulders. “You can share this with no one. No one.”
“But Nate, what about Livy? She has to be told – ”
“Are you nuts? Firstly, I will not put her in danger the way I’ve just done to you. Secondly …” His eyes stared into her as intensely as she could ever remember. “I want your word, Moe. What we’ve talked about doesn’t leave this room.” He held out his hand. “Your word, Moe.” His dangerous tone left no question as to his intent. Even the puffiness above his cheeks did not detract from the flint in his eyes.
She nodded and shook his hand.
“After the attack on our homestead I should have broken it off with Livy then. But I’m weak and my weakness puts her and anyone else I care about in danger.” His self-loathing was heartbreaking. “Now, very best friend, if the inquisition is over I really need to get some sleep.”
“Not yet.” Somehow Nathan seemed to know what was coming. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
Hit bit his lower lip so hard he drew blood.
Moe took his head in her hands. “Finish it, Nate.”
His eyes became blank his breathing shallow. He cleared his throat with a shudder.
“Delos.” A shiver ran through his body. “Day forty two, on Delos. The incubation period for the plague had been reached. The very young and the very old were the first to be affected. Except for me. It began with the fever, then the muscle cramps, the pustules on the skin, the internal rupturing, the staggering pain. Father had attended the academy and served in Monitor Corps. He recognized the symptoms.
‘How are you feeling, Nathan?’ he asked me.
‘Fine,’ I said.
A pustule burst on his face.
Within a few hours everyone, except me, was visibly affected. The moaning turned to screaming as internal organs were attacked and eaten away.
My father showed me how to end the misery. A swift, deep knife thrust to the jugular. Death within sixty seconds.
We started with my Great Uncle John. He was the oldest, his suffering the greatest. I remember, just before father struck, Uncle John smiled and said, ‘Thank you, Lucas.’
“Since I was the healthiest,” he paused for a long moment, “I was expected to do my duty. Obligation to family was everything to us, Moe. We started with the sickest, the ones who were most in pain. Finally there were only four of us left. Father, mother and my sister, Rebecca.”
Nathan’s eyes were dead grey pools, his voice dull like a machine voice.
“Rebecca nodded for me to do it. Father ended mother’s misery. And then there were two.”
Moe’s pulse thundered in her ears but she had to hear this to the end.
“I loved and respect my father more than anyone. Even Caleb. He wept after mother died and fell to the ground, the last of his energy gone. He writhed in agony. ‘Nathan, do your duty. Then survive, my son. You must survive to honor your obligation to your family. Do you understand?’
Bloody knife in hand, I nodded. Father screamed as his insides contorted. ‘Nathan, now is the time. End my pain.’
“No,” Moe whispered in horror. “No. Nathan, you killed your own father?”
Tears poured down his cheeks like a stream. He shuddered as the emotion ripped from his body.
“It’s all right, Nate. You had no choice. If you didn’t do it your father –
“Moe,” he screamed, “I couldn’t do it. I tried, but I couldn’t do it. Not to him. Because I’m weak. Always have been, always will be. I ran away, Moe. Ran and left him to die horribly. Ran until I could no longer hear his voice cursing me. ‘You’re weak, boy, weak and useless. Do your duty, you coward.’
“I know he was crazy
with the pain and probably delusional but…”
He wept then, without reserve, wept as he had never done in her presence but had so badly needed to for so long. Wept till his friend's flight suit became soaked with his bitter tears. He had not shared his appalling shame with anyone. Instead it remained in his heart like a black poison infesting his soul. Moe wept with him. Holding him to her heart. Soothing him with meaningless platitudes. Helping him banish his demons.
Finally, with his mind and body spent, the agony of an exorcised soul tearing at him, he slept.
Now, like the lifting of a long-standing fog, it all made sense to Moe. She could not recall ever feeling sorry for her friend, regardless of his tragic history. Intensely curious but never sorry for him. Nathan was too tough for sentiment. Tonight, all that changed and would so for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER 68
Date: 20th August, 320 ASC.
Position: Monitor Truculent, running parallel to the Francorum border.
Status: Rendezvous with freighter Rochelle.
Nathan leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He had almost completed his admin duties. Truculent had expended significant stores during the patrol. The loss of twenty 'droids would undoubtedly raise a few eyebrows when the ANS Bureau of Ordnance received the requisition.
In the last four days he had immersed himself in work, using it as a cathartic patch over his most recent weaknesses. Was weakness the right word? Moe and he had spoken of his shame several times since that awful night. She repeatedly told him he had nothing to feel guilty about, reminding him he had been a child at the time. Talking had helped more than he expected. For the first time in his life he truly understood the wisdom in the old saying. Confession was good for the soul. Although the ghosts of his past refused to leave him in peace, in the more practical ways he had never felt better. Moe's courageous support helped him to finally face his demons, if not totally redress his shame. Oh yes, the ghosts still lingered at the periphery of his thoughts, awaiting the night. Nevertheless, he sensed the first inklings of control over them. Work helped.
Since the battle, the worst of his wounds had healed but the restlessness remained. Sergeant Redpath paid him a visit yesterday and laid his own brand of stress management at his door. For a ground pounder he showed remarkable compassion.
“It's normal to feel a bit itchy after a fight,” he said. “Especially if it's your first.” His hard features softened moderately. “That fight would have been a sickening initiation for anyone. Even a marine.”
“How did we do?” Nathan kept his tone light.
“I've seen worse.”
“Thank you. I’d be obliged if you would share your thoughts with the rest of the team.”
“Already have.”
“So, you saved the best for last?” He grinned sheepishly. Rusty shook his head and snorted.
“I've got work to do.” Redpath turned to leave.
“Hold on.”
Nathan removed the bayonet from a draw. Holding it by the scabbard he offered it to Redpath hilt first.
“Thanks for the loan. It was a life saver and a life taker.”
The marine removed the blade from its scabbard.
“I see you've given it a good clean. Good, I don't want headhunter blood on my weapons. Well, not for the long term at least.” His hard, unfathomable eyes locked onto Nathan long enough to make him uneasy. Redpath handed the weapon back. “I’ve got a gut feeling you’ll make good use of this in the future.”
Redpath left Nathan too thunderstruck to reply. He cradled the weapon in his hands for a moment before returning it to the drawer. Nathan went back to work and had almost completed his latest requisition when his comm beeped.
“Telford.”
“Mister Telford,” Cmdr Demianski said, “your presence is requested in the boat bay.”
“On my way, sir.”
A minute later he swung from the drop shaft onto the longitudinal corridor outside the boat bay. His ribs still pinched a bit but were coming along.
The large landing boat from the Francorum freighter Rochelle sat ready to depart. Six men rested on gurneys awaiting their time to go aboard. The middies and some of the officers mingled with them. From the pack of milling humans a small girl darted out.
“Captain Nathan,” she shouted.
He scooped her up, resting her on his hip. “Simone Garneau, how are you today?”
“I'm good, Captain Nathan,” she said. “And how are you?”
“I'm fine, thank you.” He surveyed the crowded bay. The children stood by their father's gurneys waving at him, some less shyly than others. Their mothers, who suffered such vile abuse on Picaroon had been evacuated earlier. Their physical symptoms had been treated and from those they would make a full recovery. Their shattering psychological and spiritual trauma would take much longer to heal.
“Captain Nathan?”
“Yes, Simone.”
“Thank you for saving us.”
He smiled and bowed his head. “You’re very welcome.”
A Franc attendant pushed a gurney to where Nathan stood. On it a man of early middle age sat up.
“Daddy, this is Captain Nathan,” Simone said.
Nathan placed the child next to her father.
“Nathan Telford,” he said touching his right hand to his heart and bowing slightly in the Athenian manner. Even after fourteen years Nathan could not bear to shake hands with a Franc.
“I am Jules Garneau.” The Franc’s hand, which had been in the process of rising to shake his, fell back onto the gurney. “I wanted to thank you personally for saving my daughter from those vile creatures.” His expression adopted mild surprise upon meeting the man who had rescued his child, to find not a tall, lantern jawed hero, but a twenty-year-old midshipman.
“My pleasure, Mister Garneau.” For the sake of the child he kept his tone more or less affable.
The Franc was no fool and apparently sensed his loathing. “Simone darling, time to go now.”
“Awe daddy,” she whined.
“Go on now. I need to talk with, ah, Captain Nathan.”
She waved to Nathan as she ran to join the rest of the children who were herded into the landing boat by attendants.
“Our two societies have not always seen eye to eye. But regardless of our differences I have to thank you.”
“I was doing my duty.”
“I can see you are not as fond of adult Francs as our children. But no matter. You and your colleagues risked your lives to rescue us, for which I shall always be indebted. But you, you went back for our children and brought them safely home to us. I shall never forget what you did. I’m a wealthy man. If there is anything you desire, if it is within my power, it is yours.”
Nathan did not trust himself to speak.
“Mister Telford? I meant you no offense but I have apparently done so. I only wished to express my gratitude.”
“Very well, Franc, if you want to do something for me, here it is.” Nathan fought to keep the emotion from his voice. “The next time you get the brilliant idea of wandering around the edge of the frontier in an unescorted freighter make sure you leave your family at home.”
Garneau winced. “You are an extremely hard man for someone so young. However, you make a valid point.” Garneau sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know how else to express myself other than as I have. Again, thank you for my family.”
Nathan nodded curtly and marched toward the waiting group.
***
Nathan followed Cmdr Demianski through the hatch with the Tackies following. They took their places around the briefing table. No white tablecloth and silverware adorned the table today. The captain wasted no time.
“Very well, Nathan,” Waugh said, “you were the ranking officer on this little jaunt so let's hear it.”
“The decision was mine alone, captain. The others followed my lead.”
“We
did so gladly, captain,” Moe added.
“You disobeyed orders,” the commander snapped.
“Not in the strictest terms, sir,” Ozzie said.
“What?”
“We were ordered to wait for the landing boat,” Ozzie continued. “We followed our orders. We were just a little late getting there.”
“You could have gotten yourselves killed.” The commander directed his irritation at Nathan.
Nathan sensed the blood rushing to his face. “You know what those animals would have done to the children. The opportunity to stop that from happening presented itself and I took it. And sir, given the same circumstances, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
“We couldn't leave the kids behind when there was a chance of rescuing them, sir,” Moe said.
Commodore Waugh remained silent for a short time before speaking again. “I’m not entirely certain what I'm going to do about this. On the one hand you did disobey orders. On the other hand you rescued six civilians and aided in the destruction of a headhunter warship.” She set her eyes on Nathan. He struggled to meet her appraising gaze. “What would you do in my position?”
Nathan cleared his throat. “To use the old expression, the buck stops with you, captain.” He sighed deeply and stared into the captain’s eyes. “Acting or not, I outranked everyone on the team.”
“Hold on a minute – ” Moe started to object but was stunned into silence by Nathan's glare.
“You don't speak for the others on this matter, Moe,” he snapped. “It's not just you and me this time. They have great careers ahead of them. As do you.” He turned to the captain, “They missed the rendezvous because they followed me. I made the first move. They would not have stayed if I hadn't. As you so correctly pointed out captain, I was the ranking officer.”
Someone would have to hang for disobeying the captain's orders.
“Does anyone else have anything to say?” the captain asked.
“With all respect to the captain,” Dearkov said, “I think these people deserve medals. I hope you're not going to be too harsh on them, ma’am. They, we, did our duty.”