But even though I'd been prepared to have the baby if I was pregnant, when the doctor determined I was not pregnant, a huge weight slid off my shoulders. In my mind, I still considered myself a virgin, and somehow knew that my future husband, whoever he might be, would think the same. I was a virgin because I hadn't had sex—I'd been attacked. The memory of my rape still gives me shivers even after all these years. But I have always kept it in the past, where it belongs.
* * * *
I wouldn't go so far as to say the rest of our trip was uneventful. For instance, if anyone ever tries to convince you that I had something to do with the Tokyo Brawl of 2679, well, don't call them a liar. It wasn't all my fault, but listen close: that rice wine sneaks up on a person fast, and it's even faster on a young lady who shouldn't be imbibing anyway, even if the legal drinking age in Japan is sixteen.
And I had nothing to do with the purple cow in India! Not really, anyway. OK, nobody had even heard the poem before I started reciting it. You know, the one that goes: “I've never seen a purple cow, I never hope to see one. But I can tell you this right now, I'd rather see than be one.” If you think about it, it is kinda funny. It was even funnier at the time. Despite the gunfire.
But it wasn't as funny as our unscheduled side trip to Istantanople. (They finally settled on a name. By committee.) Now Istantanople is a fun town, even when you are being chased through the streets at two a.m. by an overwrought, overweight mayor who really, really wants you dead. That wasn't my fault, either. How was I supposed to know the word “movie” had changed meanings a dozen times, each one successfully worse? Politicians! No sense of humor.
Don't get me wrong. It wasn't as though we were two wild ladies out to paint the town red. Nothing of the kind. I'll admit, to my shame, that I got drunk in Tokyo. Never again. Everything else sort of just ... happened. Most of the trip was spent in lounging around, seeing the sights, soaking up some sun. But we were two dogs who really needed some vacation time. We'd been robbed of it the first time around, so maybe, maybe, we overdid it a tad.
Anyway, the only relevance any of this has was that instead of pulling into base on Thursday night, we crawled in on Saturday evening. We had leave until Monday morning, so we had the time. In fact, we nearly decided to stop in Alexandria for a day, and head back Sunday night. But we were pretty tired, and anyway somebody had blabbed about the eels incident in Old Jerusalem, so we just skipped Alexandria and went home.
It's so hard to believe that a pivotal point in a person's life could revolve around a satchel full of eels.
* * * *
“AARON!"
He was in front of the crowd that waited for us in the hanger. Seven weeks ago, I needed to be shoved into his arms by Susie. Not this time. I'd seen too much and understood now how precious our moments were. I ran down the ramp and jumped into his arms.
“Abby?” He seemed a little stunned and a lot embarrassed, but he held me pretty tight anyway. “It's great to see you ag ... mmmph!"
I wrapped my arms around his neck and half lifted, half pulled our lips together. His mouth was far too good looking to waste on words, so I kissed him instead. The crowd let out a whoop and a cheer. I didn't care. I was home and in the arms of the man I loved. You heard me. I loved him.
He pulled his lips away and looked into my eyes, searching for something as Susie had back in Anchorage. I let him look, knowing he'd find what he hoped for. He did, and then those huge arms engulfed me and I felt my feet go off the floor as he kissed me. The cheering grew to the point of being deafening, but it couldn't drown out the pounding in my heart and the roaring in my ears.
“You look a little busy, Abby,” Susie said from behind me. “I'll put our gear and gewgaws away. You and Aaron find a quiet place to talk."
That was more than fine with me, but Aaron set me down and shook his head at Susie.
“Thank you very much, Corporal, but I'm still on duty.” He turned his drop dead gorgeous eyes to me. “You go ahead and unpack and catch up, Abby. I'll be off at twenty-one hundred hours, and come by your quarters, if that's all right with you."
All right with me? I'd practically undressed him in front of the entire Third Regiment, and now he was making sure I wanted to see him.
But between our kisses and the way his arms sucked the strength out of me, all I could do was nod. He laughed and kissed me again. Squeezing my hands, he walked confidently off to his combat drills. He wasn't quite as confident as he let on, though. His walk had just a little more stagger than swagger.
“Come on, woman.” Susie tugged me toward our quarters. “We've got to get you into a cold shower, before you EFP right here in the hanger.” As least, I think that's what she said. I wasn't really listening.
* * * *
“Hiya, Dusty!"
Dusty looked up from his workbench where he all but lived. He had a large slug gun in about twenty parts and a seeming jumble. He smiled when he saw me.
“Abigail! Nice to have you back, girl! Hang on a second. Thawell wants this thing ready to go in a half hour.” He turned his attention back to the heavy rifle. I didn't mind waiting. It was always a treat to watch him work. I stepped into his workshop to see up close. His thin, bony hands moved with grace, as an artist's do, as he slid the rifle together. A couple of clicks of metal on metal, several flicks of his wrists, and from the pile of pieces a fully operational gun magically appeared.
“Agnes!” he hollered. There was the tone of lock-up as the sound shielding dropped over the door and service window. A range appeared on the other side of the room and a holo target disk a half-meter in diameter glimmered at one hundred meters.
I looked back just as Dusty deftly slid a quarter-kilo shell into the chamber and slammed the bolt home. The rifle came up, he paused for a split instant, and the room echoed with a boom as he pulled the trigger.
There was a flash at the far end of the range as the shell exploded. Shielding in the range tunnel prevented the rubble and debris from exiting and possibly hitting us. I expected the target to be obliterated, but through the dust I could see it shimmer.
“You better check the sighting, Dusty. You missed."
“I always miss, Abby. Truth to tell, I can't hit the barn side of a broad.” I almost swallowed my tongue, but I didn't laugh. Like Susie, Dusty got a kick using my ancient expressions. Unlike Susie, he didn't have the knack. “But I let the owners worry about the sights. Everyone's different in how they use ‘em, so I don't bother. I just want it firing.” He looked at the rifle in his hands with pride. “And this one fires sweet.” He smiled at me. “Now let's take care of you."
He stood up and walked over to a locker. Using his voice code, he released the seal and opened it up, withdrawing my pistol, which I'd left with him oh so long ago. He brought it to me with all the love and tenderness of a father carrying his newborn child.
“I'm glad you came back, young lady. Now this,” he displayed the gun, “is art. I followed your specifications and added a couple myself. I hope you don't mind."
“Mind?” I said incredulously. “I'm grateful. So, was I right? It is possible to modify the sound sight to act as a primitive sonic inducer? With a useable range?"
“You called it, Abby. I had to reroute the energy conduits from the sighting to provide sufficient power. And I needed to improve the casing on the upper portion by about forty percent. But by using a lighter alloy for the entire gun, overall weight is unchanged. Your gun now has a sonic inducer with a practical range of three meters. The effects are still noticeable at up to ten meters, but with diminishing returns."
“What kind of disabling are we talking about, Dusty?” I took the gun from him and tested the weight and balance. It seemed unchanged, although the gun now had a dull white finish.
“Results will vary, but at up to three meters, they're all nasty. Reactions will cover the spectrum from stunned concussion to unconsciousness to seizures to even death. From three to ten meters, the reactions are similar, but greatly r
educed. I'm not sure. Needless to say, I didn't get too many volunteers to let me try it on them. But my guess is that even at ten meters the target will feel some disorientation and lose their combat edge.
“I've also increased the scatter, so it can affect several people at once. You can adjust it here with a simple twist. Blue is tight, with the effects slightly increased. Red is open and all bets off. Be careful about any buddies standing in front of it when you fire."
“Thank you,” I said dryly. “I think I figured that out by myself. What's the price in power?"
“Not too bad. About the equivalent of three shots. Your gun holds about sixty charges, so it won't be a worry except in a prolonged fire fight."
I was anxious to test it out, but since there was no one standing around wearing NATech insignia, I would have to wait. I thanked Dusty and headed off to report to Lt. Sanchez.
* * * *
“Yes?” Lt. Sanchez looked up from his desk at my polite knock. “Ah, Private Wyeth. Please, come in. At ease."
I released my salute and stood at ease. He finished whatever he was doing on the terminal and logged off. He then leaned back in his chair and contemplated me. His wasn't an intrusive stare, but I knew he was taking in more about me than I could guess. His kind were rare. He had the ability to both command and inspire loyalty, maintaining a high level of discipline behind a cloak of familiarity. Everyone in the Third who had served elsewhere—myself included, counting my service in the Ethiopian campaigns—swore there was none better. Without hesitation those under him would confidently follow him to their deaths, knowing if there was a way to complete the mission, Lt. Sanchez could find it. And if that meant dying, he'd be the first to die, for the mission and for his command. Which is what made his kind so rare.
Sanchez stood up and called for privacy. He then stepped around the desk and sat on the edge. I was expecting a debriefing session, since I'd been in the Glendale Primary NATech base for over three weeks. So I was surprised with what he said next.
“Abigail, I am terribly sorry. Your assault is a sad but expected consequence of serving against NATech. All our personnel are trained to withstand and deal with such an attack, though it has always been a primary attack against women.” He paused and set his jaw. He was making a visible effort to control himself.
“All that means nothing when it happens. I cannot offer you the understanding you deserve, because I could never understand what you went through. Still, I—"
“Pardon me, sir. You can understand,” I said in a small voice.
“What do you mean?"
“I mean, you can understand what I went through. The right man can understand exactly what it is like. You were as powerless to prevent my rape as I was, and you are my commanding officer. You hold yourself responsible for what happens to me while I serve. All good officers do. And you are the best officer I've ever served under. Believe me, sir, I think what we're each feeling is very much the same."
He stood up and turned his back to me abruptly. He walked to the other side of his small office and stood staring at the wall. He remained motionless for a long moment, then shook his head sharply, bringing a hand to his face. He waited another few seconds, then took a deep breath and turned back to me. His eyes were moist. As moist as my cheeks.
“Thank you, Abigail. I—I didn't realize I needed that. I was hoping to offer my comfort to you..."
“You did, sir. Thank you."
His heavy mustache twitched as he smiled. He clapped his hands on my shoulders.
“Perhaps we can build up each other over the next little while.” He motioned me to a chair, then sat on the desk after I had seated myself. “Now, let's talk about that leave of yours, shall we? I very much want to hear how you managed to use a microsat as a weapon."
* * * *
It was twenty one thirty hours when I finally finished with Lt. Sanchez Since I was late, I went to pick up Aaron. I ran over to the hanger, =but they told me the Company A combat drills had finished an hour earlier. The computer told me Aaron was in the men's barracks, so I went there. Along the way, I bumped into Sarah, my other wingman.
She, more than anyone, did exactly the right thing to show me her feelings. She smiled and pulled me close, giving me a crusher bear hug. I felt like a little girl with bloody knees being comforted by my older sister. She had absolute confidence in me as her comrade, and thought me her equal in battle. But in moments like these, she was in her own way as protective of me as Susie was.
She released me and gave me one of her big grins. She never said a word then or afterwards, but her message was the clearest.
“Missed you at drills! Thawell did, too, but he'd never say so. He keeps whining about how soft you're going to be when you get back, and says he's going to put you in Company C with the rookies."
I felt a tug upon hearing that, but it passed. After two years, I'd gotten a much better hold on my sudden surges of fear, but they did surface on occasion. My face must have shown my momentary shock, because Sarah laughed.
“You are so easy to get, Abigail, it almost isn't fun!” She laughed again and brought her hand playfully over my head, mussing my hair. My general good shape and flexibility kept my head mounted on my shoulders, if somewhat askew. Sarah never did things by half.
“So where you off to now?"
“The men's barracks. Aaron just..."
“Geez! Like I didn't know! He was just about useless after he saw you. I was tempted to shoot him just to put him out of my misery. Lena's been working with us the past month, filling in for you, and she wanted to belt him one."
“Well, Lena's a good friend and a great fighter, but she can get back to her own triteam. I'm aching to go."
“You bet! The best team in the Regiment.” She grinned slyly at me. “Say, since we're a team, do you need any help with Aaron?"
“To be honest, Sarah,” I said in a low, inviting tone, “I do need help with him. Do we take turns, or shall we both go at him together?"
YES! It was two years coming, but payback was sweet! She looked like she just swallowed a trout, tail first, scales and all. Her face turned beet red, and she was so stunned by my invitation I could have pushed her over with a finger. Well, it actually took both hands. Then she got it and smiled weakly. I laughed and helped her to her feet. We parted ways and I headed off to the men's barracks, still laughing.
* * * *
The heat of the desert had faded to a half-felt ghost. The pitch black of a moonless night was relieved by the glowing of millions of stars overhead. The desert here in Africa smelled and felt different than Arizona, but I was still very fond of it. To my joy, Aaron loved it, too. We were walking hand in hand toward a small area of desert growth. It wasn't an oasis really—there was no permanent water source—but it did offer some privacy in an otherwise open area. We all took turns in reserving it. I don't know what it cost Aaron to get it for this prime time, and I didn't ask. He was the one taking me on a date, and it would be improper. My heart and soul were too busy taking in all the feelings and sensations of being with him. I was on my first date in many centuries and my first ever as a woman.
We reached the small cove of trees and brush. I spread out the blanket and sat down on it, carefully brushing my skirt down. Smiling, I held out my hands, inviting him to join me. He lay down beside me on his back, and put his hands behind his head, staring up at the stars. He hadn't said a word since we left, but it was a pleasant kind of silence. I moved up close to him and looked down at his strong face, which I could dimly make out in the brilliant starlight. His chest rose and fell slowly and felt hard and warm under my hand. In my own chest I felt a tightness and warmth I had never felt before.
I loved Aaron. Watching him contemplating the stars, I hoped he was thinking about us. Us. The word had the most wonderful sound in the world. I laid my head down on his chest and put my body along his. He wrapped one of his powerful arms around me, and I marveled at how gentle and proper he was in holding me.
“I'm glad I'm back with you, Aaron."
He hugged me. “I can't believe how awkward we were. We've known each other and fought beside each other for eighteen months, and this is our first time together as, as...” He took a breath. “As a man and a woman."
My head was buzzing. “I know. We should have done this a long time ago."
“Really? You would have walked out with me before now?” He seemed surprised and excited.
“I think so. Yes. Yes, I would have. But it would have been a little more embarrassing. I was still having difficulties reconciling my feeling toward you with my life in the twenty-first century."
“Oh. When you were a man.” He paused, considering. “You know, I've never really thought about it. You've always been and acted a lady. It's impossible for me to see you as anybody except Abigail Wyeth, an intelligent, wonderful and very beautiful woman."
“That's exactly what Susie told me you would say. I didn't believe her at first. Now I do. I was so silly, letting something like that keep us apart."
“It didn't really, Abigail. Maybe a little bit for you. But I was so certain you'd say no that I never asked. I was afraid it would ruin our friendship."
We laughed at our own ineptitude at the simplest of things, talking.
“Ow!” he said suddenly in mid-laugh, holding his left shoulder.
“Laughing so hard it hurts?"
“No. Sarah got ticked off at me during drills and clipped me a good one with her rifle butt. I think she was aiming for my head.” He rubbed his shoulder. “She's got a brutal punch."
“From what she told me, you deserved it. She also blamed me. Here, let me work on it.” He sat up obediently and I got on my knees behind him. Pressing my body close to his back, I started massaging his injured shoulder.
“Oh, yes! That feels great!” he moaned loudly. I blushed at his unabashed pleasure and slugged him playfully. “Ow. Now what?"
Shards [Book Two] Page 21