The Fighter Queen

by John Bowers

  Johnny looked more closely and realized for the first time that he'd been fighting a teenager. He sighed wearily.

  "He a friend of yours?"

  "Not really, but — I understand him."

  "Christ!"

  "You're not going to kill him, are you?"

  Johnny looked at Tonja in surprise. Her green eyes looked sincerely worried.

  "Why would I do that?"

  "Because he tried to kill you."

  Johnny gazed at the bleeding kid again, shaking his head.

  "So did your brother. But we don't murder prisoners."

  "What are you going to do with him?"

  "I'll turn him over to the camp guards. He's their responsibility."

  "What will they do with him?"

  "I don't know, but if he thinks he's tough enough to be a Confederate soldier, they'll probably treat him like one. My guess is a POW camp." He looked into her eyes again, disappointed. "You didn't really think I'd kill him did you? Like this? Lying there helpless?"

  She blinked, then lowered her eyes to the floor.

  "I hoped you wouldn't."

  Johnny stood up slowly, feeling his cuts complain. He kept the light on the boy, but sat on the edge of the bed.

  "I'll keep an eye on him," he told Tonja. "Why don't you get dressed and run down to the gatehouse. Tell them we need Infantry Police up here."

  He felt a wave of dizziness.

  "And bring back a medic."

  Chapter 28

  Thursday, 2 February, 0243 (PCC) — UFF George Bush, Parking Orbit, Sirius 1

  Johnny Lincoln II shut off the hot water shower and rubbed the excess water off his face with both hands, heaving a sigh of relief. He stepped out, dripping, and punched the dryer button, turning slowly as the hot air washed over him to dry the droplets that still clung to his skin. He felt good; his wounds had healed and he'd just finished his best night's sleep in several weeks. Better yet, after three months of nonstop ground support missions he had the day off, and planned to spend it doing as little as possible.

  As he reached for his hair styler the door jerked open and he turned, startled. Onja stood there, her sky-blue eyes punching holes through him. He frowned.

  “What?”

  She took a step forward, placing her almost in his face.

  “When was the last time you were at the DP camp?” she demanded.

  “Back when I was grounded. You know that.”

  “You screwed Tonja, didn’t you?”

  He scowled. “Don’t make it sound so dirty. It was consensual.”

  “She’s seventeen, Johnny! Seventeen! You’re twenty-one.”

  “She’s an adult. She knows what she wants.”

  “So you’re blaming this on her?”

  “I’m not blaming anything on anybody. There’s nothing to blame. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “The age of consent is eighteen, goddammit!”

  Johnny held up a hand. “There is no age of consent on Sirius.”

  “Oh, for the sake of Sophia! You’re justifying this under Sirian law?”

  “There’s nothing to justify! We made love. That’s all!”

  Furious, Onja shoved him; he stumbled against the dryer, burning hell out of his back.

  “Hey!” he shouted. “What the hell are you doing!”

  “We live under Federation law, Johnny! That means Tonja is under age!”

  She started to shove him again, but he grabbed her wrists and pushed her back through the doorway.

  “Look, just calm down a minute, will you? Listen to me!”

  Her face was flushed, she was breathing hard. Her eyes never left his.

  “I’m four years older than she is,” Johnny said. “Same as you and Dad were. How old were you the first time you slept with him?”

  “Don’t change the subject!”

  “How old?”

  “I was nineteen. So what?”

  “And Major Landon? How old were you then?”

  Onja stared at him for a second, her eyes losing a little of their fire.

  “That was different,” she said. “I was a veteran combat gunner. Tonja still lives with her mother. She’s been sheltered.”

  “Oh, bullshit! She told me she’s been ducking men since she was a little girl.”

  “She didn’t duck quick enough with you, did she?”

  Johnny felt a surge of anger, and barely restrained himself from slapping her. He leaned forward with a snarl.

  “That’s really cheap, Onja! You don’t have any facts and you’re making judgments on something you know nothing about!”

  “I suppose you’re going to tell me it was her idea?”

  He started to say yes, but knew she wouldn’t believe him.

  “I suggest you ask her what happened before you start accusing me of something you can’t take back. How old were you when you slept with Major Landon?”

  “I was eighteen! Okay? Are you happy? And he was thirty-eight. And I practically had to rape him to get him to agree!”

  He blinked an her unexpected candor. That was more information than he wanted.

  “You were eighteen,” he said. “Tonja is seventeen. That’s a difference of only one year.”

  “I was more mature at seventeen than most girls are at twenty-five!”

  “You spent your childhood under Sirian occupation. Tonja spent her whole life under Sirian authority. She’s grown up fast. She’s been bombed, seen her home destroyed, her brother taken prisoner, and now she’s a refugee. I think you need to give her some credit.”

  Onja’s eyes still reflected rage, but were now thoughtful. She stared at him for long seconds.

  “Are you telling me you’re in love with her?”

  “Yes, I am. As soon as this damn war is over I’m going to propose to her.”

  The blue eyes narrowed.

  “Is that the truth, or just what you think I want to hear?”

  Sensing the crisis was almost over, Johnny sighed wearily.

  “You know, right now I don’t much care what you want to hear. But I want to take Tonja home to Colorado and spend the rest of my life with her. And that’s the truth.”

  Onja’s anger faded. She stepped forward and put her arms around him.

  “Okay, I believe you. I guess I overreacted.”

  “Ya think?”

  “Don’t push it. I’m still your commanding officer.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry for jumping on you like that.”

  He gave her a squeeze. “I’ll get over it. Now can I get dressed?” He was still wearing his towel.

  Onja stepped aside and Johnny moved to the wardrobe, pulling out a pair of utilities.

  “So what brought all this to your attention?” he asked.

  Onja sat down on the edge of her rack.

  “I had a call a few minutes ago from Sonja,” she said. “She was wondering why you haven’t been back to the camp.”

  She hesitated for a moment, then told him the rest.

  “Tonja’s pregnant.”

  Saturday, 4 February, 0243 (PCC) — Displaced Persons Compound, Glenville, Texiana, Sirius 1

  Missie Simonian lay sleeping fitfully, her snow-blonde hair spread across her pillow. Flitting images danced across her subconscious, images she couldn't readily identify, and didn't want to remember. Soldiers, laughing at her. Leering. Ghostly hands reaching for her, tearing at her dress. Holding her arms in a painful grip, forcing her thighs apart. The dream was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite recall, couldn't remember when or where.

  A hand touched her shoulder and she sprang up with a gasp, her green eyes wide.

  "Sh. It's okay, Tonja. It's me. I'm sorry if I scared you."

  "Johnny?" Tonja struggled into a sitting position, her hair falling into her face. She brushed it aside, feeling the warmth of his hands on her shoulders, the gentle firmness of his lips against hers — the smell of him, familiar and comforting.

  "Are you okay?" he asked, sitting d
own on the bed beside her.

  Her heart gradually returned to normal and she nodded.

  "I was having a bad dream."

  "Nothing too serious, I hope."

  "Oh, Johnny! It's been so long. I was afraid something had happened to you!" She threw her arms around him.

  "I'm fine. I've been busy, that's all. But I thought about you every day."

  "I love you, Johnny!"

  "And I still love you, honey. I'll always love you."

  He kissed her again, and she allowed him to lie down next to her, remove her sleeping gown, and slide his hands over her firm breasts. She slid her arms around his neck and thrust her tongue into his mouth, moving against him, feeling his body respond with excitement.

  "I need you, Johnny!" she moaned in his ear. "Make love to me!"

  He was fully dressed, but that took only moments to remedy, and then they joined, releasing all the desire built up over the weeks they'd been apart. Missie wailed in climax and locked her legs around him in desperation. He reached his own climax moments later, then they lay entangled, spent and wasted, absorbing the afterglow of their union.

  When they'd recovered, he lay stroking her hair and kissing her face. She closed her eyes and savored his attentions. Some minutes later she opened them again and turned toward him, her eyes seeking him out in the darkness.

  "I have something to tell you," she said.

  "What is it?"

  "Please don't be angry with me."

  "I won't. I promise."

  She took a deep breath. "I have your baby inside me."

  "I know."

  She hesitated. "You know?"

  He nodded. "Your mother told Aunt Onja, and she told me."

  "You're not angry?"

  "Why should I be angry?"

  "I thought you might be."

  "I'm not."

  "Then I can keep the baby?"

  "What else would you do with it?"

  "I want the baby, Johnny. To remind me of you."

  He kissed her again, deeply, with longing.

  "You don't need to be reminded of me," he told her quietly. "I'm going to be there. Every day, for the rest of your life."

  She stared at him in silence, her heart swelling. Did he mean …?

  "Will you marry me, Tonja? Please?"

  Without warning, tears flooded her eyes. "Are you serious?"

  "As a super nova."

  She was silent for long seconds.

  "Tonja?"

  "I'm supposed to go to Vega," she said. "When the war is over."

  "Do you want to go to Vega?"

  "I don't know. I've never been there."

  "We can visit Vega. But I live on Terra."

  "The Federation!"

  "That's right. If you marry me, you'll probably become a Feddie. And our baby will be a Feddie, too."

  "What will your family think if you marry a Sirian girl?"

  "Oh, they might not like it much. But they wouldn't mind if I married a Vegan girl." He kissed her again. "Which are you, Tonja? Sirian or Vegan?"

  She said nothing, thinking. The silence stretched for half a minute.

  "Tonja?"

  "Vegan girls get raped," she said softly.

  "Hey, I told you — Fed soldiers don't rape any kind of girls. And if they do, we put them in prison."

  Her gaze locked onto his, and she shook her head.

  "You don't understand, Johnny. Vegan girls get raped here. On Sirius. A few months before I met you — I was raped by six Confederate soldiers."

  Johnny wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her long hair.

  "God, honey! I'm so sorry!"

  "You're the f-first … one who … who ever loved me!"

  Johnny Lincoln II felt his heart swell with pain. As the delicate blonde wept in his arms, her heart breaking, he felt a sudden, murderous rage for six anonymous Confederates who'd taken her body, stripped away her dignity, and left her desolate. As a man, he couldn't imagine what she had suffered, but her broken sobbing told him all he needed to know.

  He held her until she subsided some minutes later, then kissed her gently on the cheek, the forehead, and finally, the lips.

  "Johnny?" she whispered, still trembling, "do you still want me?"

  "More than ever," he said. "I swear to god, no one will ever hurt you again. If they try, I'll kill them!"

  "I don't think I want to be a Sirian any more, Johnny."

  "You never were," he assured her. "You wanted to be one, because it was safer than being Vegan. But you weren't really."

  "I'm not sure I'll make a good Feddie," she added.

  "You'll make a fine Feddie." He kissed her again. "Vegan girls always do."

  "I love you, Johnny!"

  "And I love …"

  His words were interrupted by a hideous scream from the living room.

  * * *

  Since her mother had been found, Onja had only been able to visit her once. Now she returned with Johnny after learning of Tonja's pregnancy. For a couple of hours she could almost forget about the war, sitting there with her family and talking about the things women talk about. Her mother had put on some weight and looked much better than when Onja first saw her.

  But Marie's concern was for her daughter.

  "Onja, why don't you get out of the military?" she suggested. "You've fulfilled your vow. Sonja and I are free now."

  Onja gazed at her thoughtfully; over the past few weeks she'd been thinking the same thing. After twenty-plus years of combat, it would be tragic to get killed now. Her lifetime goal had been achieved, so she might as well live to appreciate it.

  "I might do that," she said quietly. "My enlistment runs out soon. Maybe I won't extend."

  "How much longer do you think the war will last?" Sonja asked. "I'd love to get off this planet."

  "A few months, if I had to guess. We just accepted the surrender of two million troops in Tennetucky; Missibama is in the mopping up stage, and the Central Delta is pretty much ours now. There's only one region still holding out, in the Texiana Mountains west of here. I don't think they can last much longer."

  "It can't happen soon enough for me," Marie sighed. "I certainly never thought I'd ever see Vega again."

  "I'm only sorry Daddy won't be there to meet us," Sonja said softly.

  Onja nodded, her eyes misting at the mention of her father. Suddenly she smiled and leaned forward.

  "Sonja, I didn't tell you — or you either, Mother. We have a brother now!"

  "What!"

  "Goddess!"

  "Several years after he sent me away, Daddy remarried. He had a son named Axel.”

  Sonja blinked in astonishment. Marie's eyes filled.

  "I'm glad he remarried," she said. "I hoped he would. He didn't deserve to live alone."

  "What's this Axel like?" Sonja asked.

  "He was a prisoner of war when I saw him. He thinks like a Sirian. But maybe when we get home he'll change his mind. When he sees two sisters who share his DNA, and sees how the Sirians treated you …"

  Sonja looked suddenly uncomfortable. She and her mother exchanged glances. They were silent for a moment, then Marie cleared her throat.

  "Onja …"

  A dead silence filled the room for the space of ten seconds. Inexplicably, Onja felt her scalp tingle under her spiked hair.

  "I don't know if I should tell you this," Marie continued slowly. "Years ago, Adam and I agreed that you should never know. But Sonja and I have talked about it; you're an adult now, and you've been through a great deal to find us. We think it's only right that you know the truth."

  Onja's skin tingled. She glanced at Sonja and saw tears sliding down her cheeks.

  "What is it?" she whispered hoarsely.

  Marie frowned painfully.

  "In the winter of 0201, at the Goddess Festival … The Sirians used to come to events like that because so many women were in one place. They were always looking for sex, and they loved to ruin our holiday. I was t
wenty-five, and Sonja was three. It was the Night of Celebration, and we were all having a wonderful time. Suddenly someone took my arm and pulled me away. He was a Confederate soldier; I swear he wasn't a day over nineteen."

  Onja covered her mouth with both hands; she could hardly bear to listen.

  "Never mind the details," Marie said. "But he took me to one of those aut'otels the Sirians built and kept me there all night. Afterward I had to go to a hospital. While I was recovering, they ran tests on me. That's when I found out I was pregnant."

  Onja's blood turned to ice as she heard the words, but for long seconds they didn't register. Tears sprang to her eyes, but didn't fall. Suddenly she was on her feet, the room swirling around her.

  "No. Don't tell me any more!"

  "Onja …"

  "No!"

  "I'm sorry, baby, but — Adam wasn't your real father."

  She didn't realize she'd screamed until the bedroom door flew open and Johnny rushed out, followed by a half-naked Tonja. Johnny's right fist gripped a sidearm.

  Blinded by tears, shaking her head, Onja stumbled against the wall, her chest heaving. She screamed again, a long, anguished howl of denial. Sonja and Marie were on their feet, distress in their eyes. Sonja was sobbing. Johnny's head swiveled from one to the other, frightened and confused. Tonja peered out from behind him, equally confused.

  Marie started toward her daughter. "Onja …"

  "No! Nooooo! It's not true! He loved me! He said he loved me!"

  "Of course he loved you …"

  "You were already pregnant! You must have been!"

  Marie reached for her, but she shrank back. The older woman's eyes filled with torture.

  "Daddy was my father! I know he was! I can feel it!"

  Get out of my sight!

  "He loved me! He told me so!"

  Get out of my sight!

  She fell back toward the door, leaning against it, shaking her head angrily. Her stunning features were contorted beyond recognition.

  "It can't be true!" she shouted. "Don't you understand? It can't be true!"

  "Onja …"

  "If it's true … then I am a Sirian, too!"

  "No, honey, you're still a Vegan. You'll always be Vegan!"

  "I hate Sirians! I've killed thousands of them! They raped me when I was little; they stole my family from me. I hate them, I hate them, I hate them!"