“Pleased to meet you, sir.”
Peter’s father stood there, not knowing what to say next.
“Dad, you should turn on some lights. It’s no good to stay in the dark like this.”
Peter flipped on the light and was startled by what he saw. There were dirty laundry, used paper plates, and organofoam cups everywhere. Part of a pizza still in the box was on the floor and half-under the couch. His father stood there with his hands in his pockets looking sheepish.
“Jesus, Dad. What a mess.”
He was embarrassed in front of Lorenzo, but most of all he felt bad for his father. Peter walked past him and into the kitchen. He turned on the light and found a mountain of dirty dishes piled up in the sink, more fast food detritus covering the kitchen table and some of the chairs, and the toilet off the kitchen was running.
Lorenzo stood next to him. “Need some help?”
“Mike, no. I’ll…”
“Pete, I invited myself here. The least I can do is help.”
Peter’s father shuffled into the kitchen. “You don’t have to do anything guys, really.”
“Dad, I can’t just let this happen. Mike, you know how to work a grill?”
“I’m from Texas, Pete. What do you think?”
Peter opened up the refrigerator. “We can cook up some steaks or something.”
However, the refrigerator was practically empty, save some half-empty bottles of various condiments, a six-pack of beer, and a full bottle of cola. There were food stains all over the inside of the fridge.
Mike looked over Peter’s shoulder and into the fridge. “Take out?”
Peter closed the door. “Take out.” He turned on the com unit. “Pizza?”
Peter’s dad smiled. “Pepperoni would hit the spot.”
“Sounds good to me,” Lorenzo added.
“Pepperoni it is,” Peter confirmed.
He dialed a local pizzeria and ordered two large pies with extra pepperoni. He grabbed a large garbage bag and took to the living room, picking up garbage and dirty laundry. Mike took the kitchen, where he began to load the dishwasher.
When the doorbell rang, Peter dropped what he was doing and answered the door. He paid the deliveryman sixty dollars, and he brought the boxes into the kitchen.
Mike had cleared off the kitchen table. Peter put down the boxes. A holographic advertisement for Joe’s Pizza flashed on the top box cover.
“Peter, let me pay you for that.”
“Don’t worry about it, Dad. It’s no problem. Sit down.”
They all sat down at the table and consumed pizza. In between bites, Peter’s father regaled Lorenzo with embarrassing stories from Peter’s childhood.
“We were at this barbecue at a neighbor’s house…”
“Oh, Dad, no. Not that story.”
“And Peter was playing catch with his brother and some of the neighborhood kids. He was ten years old, I think.”
“Oh boy, here it comes.”
Peter was laying it on thick, faking obligatory protest to egg his father on. This was their routine whenever his father told stories. He knew his father loved it, and he felt it might pick up his spirits, at least during dinner.
His father continued. “And a yellow jacket flew right up his shorts and stung him in the groin.”
Lorenzo, in the middle of chewing, grimaced and elbowed Peter. “Holy cow. That must’ve hurt.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe, man.”
“He was crying and crying,” Peter’s dad continued. “All of the other kids just stared at him in disbelief.”
“And then there was the time he had his brother Carl convinced that he had a magic force field around him. He used to drag his feet on the carpet and dare Carl to touch him. When Carl touched him and got shocked, he really freaked out.”
“Yeah, Dad, but you put a quick end to that. You explained to him what static electricity was. But it was a fun afternoon.”
They all laughed as they ate their pizza and drank their cola. When they finished, Barry was banished to the den to watch television with a glass of scotch while Peter and Lorenzo finished cleaning up.
Peter wiped his brow as he dragged several bloated garbage bags out to the shed in back. When he returned, Lorenzo was nursing a beer and leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Hey, Mike. Thanks for helping out. You didn’t have to.”
Mike took a gulp of beer. “No problem, Pete. I’m paying myself in beer.”
“Hey, not here. When my dad goes to sleep, we’re going out. I’m buying. There’s this local watering hole—a real shithole—but it’s close, it’s cheap, and the local girls love military men.”
Lorenzo perked up. “Oh, really. Sounds like fun.”
They kept Peter’s father company until he dozed off in his armchair. Then they crept quietly out of the house and walked to Frisky’s.
***
Peter and Lorenzo sat at the bar. They ordered two beers, and Lorenzo took in the atmosphere. “So this is the old stomping grounds of the mighty Lieutenant Birdsall.”
Peter smirked. “Aren’t you just overwhelmed with its awesomeness?”
Lorenzo had already made eye contact with a beautiful brunette across the bar through the smoke. The scent of sweat and sex saturated the air. “The local tail ain’t bad.”
Peter laughed. Lorenzo was a player, and apparently, he moved quickly. Peter guessed that he was able to walk the walk, making him a good wingman. “Do you have any places like this where you’re from?”
The beers came. Lorenzo took a swig before answering. “None this sleazy.”
Peter punched him in the shoulder. “Hey, thanks again.”
“For what, Pete?”
“For helping me with my dad.”
“No problem. He’s great. I wish I had a nice father like that.”
Peter gulped some beer, wiping suds from his mouth. “You two don’t get along?”
“Nope. Never did, Pete. He always had a problem with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I was little, I was too hyper or too messy or I was a cry baby. When I was older, I was too lazy or too stupid.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, man.”
“Yeah, well, I got out of that house any chance I got. I ran with other boys like me. We began to do things. You know, vandalism, stealing cars and taking them for joyrides.”
Peter put down his glass a little too hard on the bar, an indication of his surprise. “You? Really?”
“The local cops were cool about it. They’d always take me home. I begged them to lock me up, but I never escaped the beatings.”
“So why did you do those things?”
Lorenzo took a thoughtful sip of his beer. “To piss him off, I guess. It was worth the beatings.”
“He never got tired?”
Lorenzo was staring directly ahead of him at nothing at all. It was as if he was replaying his childhood like an old movie in his head. “Oh, he got tired. One day he told me that I was to join the army or he would throw me out of the house, and if I ended up in jail, I was on my own.”
“So that’s when you enlisted?”
“He took me to the enlistment center himself and watched me sign my life away.”
Peter downed the rest of his glass. “Shit, that’s heavy.”
“Oh, I was more than happy to leave that house. His years of criticism and abuse made Basic a breeze. You might say I was used to it.”
Peter called over the bartender. “Two whiskey shots, black label.”
Lorenzo nodded his approval.
“So, do you have any regrets?” Peter asked.
“No. I’m a different person now. The army taught me self-reliance…yet, I finally feel like I’m a part of something.”
Peter stared forward. “Yeah, I guess that’s what we all want.”
The shots came. They each picked up a shot glass.
“To belonging to something,” Lorenzo toasted.
“Bottoms up,” Peter responded.
They downed their whiskey.
“Smooth,” Peter commented, and then to the bartender, “Two more beers.”
“So why did you join, Pete?”
Peter had plenty of time to mull this question over given his brother’s recent decision to enlist.
“I was never a good student. I did okay, but let’s just say I wasn’t doctor or lawyer material.”
“Not that there’s any jobs for doctors or lawyers,” Lorenzo added.
“I don’t know. It just seemed right. Some people become cops, some people become firefighters, and some join the army.”
The two beers came.
“Yeah, I guess they’re all dangerous,” Lorenzo said.
“Exactly. Why don’t people ever see that? Especially a cop. A cop can be shot or stabbed at any time. But for some reason, it’s more acceptable than joining the army.”
Lorenzo was making eyes with the brunette again. She was whispering to her friend, who was now casting sultry glances. He elbowed Peter in the middle of sipping his beer, causing him to spill a little in his lap.
“What the hell?”
“Hey, Pete, enough about the army. Those two ladies have been eyeing us since we came in.”
Peter looked over, and the girls met his gaze. He felt the electricity from across the room. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”
“Amen, brother. Why don’t we go over and introduce ourselves.”
They stood up. Peter stepped back and gestured for Lorenzo to go first. He wanted to see the man in action. “After you. I’ll cover you.”
Lorenzo grabbed his beer off the bar and sauntered over with Peter, where they were received quite warmly.
Chapter 10
16 Weeks Later
Carl had completed Basic Training. He sailed through weapons training using the M16, M4 carbine, grenade launchers, and various automatic weapons. He mastered drill and ceremony training, and he struggled through special tactical Field Training Exercises where as a platoon, the recruits practiced decision-making on the battlefield.
He graduated to Advanced Individual Training (AIT) where he would be trained in his Military Occupational Specialty (MOS). Having two years of classes in engineering under his belt, he applied to Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri and was accepted. However, because he did not complete four years of college, he was not accepted into the engineering program.
This disappointed Carl greatly. He was, however, accepted into the field technician program and received his training at the Edwin R. Bradley Radiological Teaching Laboratories, one of the few actually licensed by the Department of Defense.
Being a natural student, Carl passed his classes with flying colors. After the physical rigor of Basic, he felt like he was back in his element.
He was graduating in a week from the program and faced assignment. It was evening, and he just returned to the barracks from the mess hall. He threw himself on his bed and picked up his textbook on subatomic particles when his com unit flashed that he had an incoming call. He put down his book and touched the screen. It was Peter.
“Hey, Pete.”
“Hey, Carl. How’s it going?”
“Okay. I was just reading about quarks.”
His big brother’s quizzical expression amused him. “It’s a subatomic particle, Pete. I have one last exam tomorrow.”
“You excited about graduation?”
“Yeah, I guess. But I’m a little worried about where I’m going to be assigned.”
“I’m sure you’ll be useful wherever you go.”
“Well, I’m worried about Dad. I’d like to be close to him if possible.”
“Carl, when you enlisted you cut the apron strings. There’s no going back.”
“I know. I know. I just worry about him.”
Peter hesitated. Carl knew that the only time Peter shut up was when he had something important to say.
“What is it, Pete? I have to get back to studying.”
“Well, I was thinking that if you were interested…I could maybe pull some strings and get you assigned to Fort Bliss here in Texas. They need some good techs. There’s a lot of interesting R&D going on here.”
Carl sat up. “Really? What kind of R&D?”
“Classified, bro. But it won’t be if I can get you an assignment.”
“Really? You can do that?”
“I have some connections.”
“That would be great. We’d be on the same base, and close to Dad.”
Peter smiled wryly. He figured he’d torture his little brother a little. “Are you sure you’re not sick of Texas? Maybe you want to see other places.”
Carl took the bait, amusing his brother. “No, no. Fort Bliss would be fantastic.”
Peter hesitated, watching Carl squirm. “Okay. Okay. I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, you get back to studying. I won’t be able to do squat if you fail your last final exam.”
“Thanks, Pete.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Peter terminated the call. He sat up in his bunk. He had an appointment with Captain London in a few minutes, and wanted to discuss the prospect of bringing Carl into the ID Program.
He stood up, straightened out his uniform, and put on his headgear.
***
“You want to do what?” Captain London asked, the disapproval obvious in the tone of her voice.
“Hey, I think the ID Program Radiology Department could use him. He’s very smart, you know.”
“You just want to keep an eye on him. You know Major Lewis will never allow it. It’s policy. He can’t be in the same unit as you.”
“Major Lewis owes me.”
Captain London sat forward in her chair. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Major Lewis doesn’t owe you anything. You follow his orders and army policy. Period. There are no favors, Peter.”
“Tijuana. Major Lewis sent me into a death trap. I joined his precious ID Program and developed it into what it is today. We’re on the verge of being fully operational.”
“Peter, did you ever think that you’d be dragging Carl into dangerous combat scenarios with you? You’re going to be engaging Mexican cartels…with dangerous undead drones no less.”
Peter shook his head impatiently. “He would be a SWEEPER. They don’t directly engage the enemy.”
“And you could keep an eye on him.”
Peter played dumb, but she wasn’t buying it. “Well, now that you mention it, Doc, I guess that is also true.”
“Oh, come off it, Peter. This request is very inappropriate.”
“Frankly Doc, it’s not your call to make. So why don’t we just let Major Lewis make the call.”
She glared at him, frustrated. “Requesting this of him is not a good idea. If I were you, I’d just drop it.”
“Is that your clinical opinion, Doctor?”
She didn’t like him mocking her, but he continued anyway. “I thought you of all people would be happy to see him.”
She glared at him. “And just what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know, Frisky’s…”
“And?”
“You thought he was cute.”
She sat back and put her palm to her forehead. “I knew I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why?”
“Peter, you should’ve seen him trying to hit on me. It was clumsy and pathetic, but I felt bad for him. I wanted to boost his confidence.”
“So you’re saying you don’t think Carl is cute?”
Her voice, for the first time since he met Captain London, now carried an authoritative tone. “This conversation is heading in an inappropriate direction.”
Peter realized he crossed a line. He couldn’t tell if he struck a nerve or she really regretted calling Carl cute, but either way he had to back off.
“Sorry, Doc.”
She regained her composure. “It’s okay. You were frustrated and were lashing out. Listen, i
f you want to make that request with Major Lewis, I can’t stop you. It’s your funeral.”
“Thank you.”
“In the meantime, you need to focus on your duties, soldier, and not concoct fantasies about what I or any other officer find attractive.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
That was the first time she referred to herself as an officer in session.
“Now get out of here.”
“Yes, ma’am. And I really am sorry.”
She nodded and gestured for him to leave. “Go.”
Peter heard the door close behind him. He would meet with Major Lewis tomorrow after debriefing. Surely, he would at least have to consider Peter’s request. At least Peter believed he should.
However, even he knew that what he believed and what Major Lewis would do were two very different things.
***
The next day Peter’s unit assembled into the hangar outside the Labyrinth. Major Lewis had wanted them to practice extraction from a confined area, as their first mission might involve neutralizing cartel members in cenotes.
Peter awaited the signal from Sergeant Lockwood for the beginning of the exercise, and then he signaled the release of the ID.
They staggered out, as usual, into the funnel of the reverse Vee formation, the dogs running alongside of them. Peter scanned the flanks for insurgents.
A private at the mouth of the funnel breached the front door and stepped back into formation. The ID piled into the Labyrinth as they had practiced so many times before.
There was inevitably a small faction of humpers, but Peter identified the squads involved and hit the AI kill switch. He counted to five and reactivated the humpers, and they rose and rejoined the group. His idea four months ago about “resetting” the humpers had worked.
The SWEEPERS ran along the side of the structure, their squads covering them, tracking the ID. The interior walls inside had been removed to simulate a cenote. A crane held a shipping crate aloft, simulating a helicopter.
After the ID were in and the front door was locked to contain them, Peter hit the AI kill switch disabling the ID in the Labyrinth. He then signaled to Sergeant Lorenzo, who was standing on top of the crate.
I Am Automaton Page 14