Vengeance Enlisted

by James Scholes

  More kissing⁠—⁠heavy stuff, with probing hands and racing heartbeats. I was angry at the way she knew how to distract me, but she was so exciting that I couldn’t help myself.

  She whispered into my ear: “Nobody ever comes back. Nobody. It doesn’t matter if we leave tomorrow or next month. The only time we have is now, so let’s just enjoy it. Whatever happens will happen no matter how angry or excited you are.”

  “I just want to stop time,” I told her.

  “Then feel my heartbeat,” she said and she took my hand and held it to her chest. Her heart was racing. Time was going too fast. I couldn’t slow it, and the more I tried just meant more time wasted.

  Beth understood that, and she moved my hand across her chest until my fingers found her softer flesh. She was smiling⁠—⁠she knew she had won, and that I was defeated joyously. We lay together, and it was the slowest love making we had shared. In many ways it was the end of things. An acceptance.

  In love, just like in war, nobody ever comes back.

  FIVE

  Perhaps things would have ended there: I would have become an engineer; Beth would have become a marine. I was certainly expecting things to end there⁠—⁠Beth, for all her physicality, was wise beyond her years and there was sense to the way she wanted to live. In the moment.

  I had my engineering form in my pocket, ready to lodge it at the marine’s office at the first opportunity. I had even salvaged my relationship with my father. After all, surely he was right⁠—⁠they had designed me to be a rear-engineer. To throw myself at anything else was to betray my genetics, my legacy.

  A calm had descended on me. The future was clear. My contribution to the war was assured. I was once more my stable, level-headed self.

  And then he arrived. Taylor.

  He was tall, fit, handsome. He had a winning smile and an absolutely effortless manner. Everybody loved him⁠—⁠even the guys flocked to him. He was just that kind of guy.

  I stood on the edge of a circle as everybody was asking him questions.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Are you going to become an officer?”

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” That question was from Beth. My head shot around to stare at her, but she hadn’t noticed me. Her eyes were just on Taylor.

  “What does it matter?” I said. “Who cares?”

  “No, I don’t have a girlfriend,” Taylor said. His voice was soft, as though he had never had to raise it in his life. People just listened to him. Beth’s smile widened. I could feel myself flushing red. I stepped in, close to Beth. She reached back and touched me. I think it was supposed to be reassuring, but it felt more like she was holding me back. As though I was going to start a fight.

  “I had to move here as they shut our recruiting station down,” Taylor said. “I was upset because it means my basic training has been delayed. But if it means I get to spend more time with you fine people, then that cheers me up no end.”

  “You’re doing basic?” Beth asked. “You’re going to be a marine?”

  “Yeah. I’m in the next deployment.”

  “Me, too,” Beth said, still smiling.

  “Great. Perhaps you can show me around some,” Taylor said.

  “I’d love to,” Beth said. The engineering form in my pocket burned like it was on fire. The thought that these two would go through basic training together, through war together, was too much. I couldn’t allow it. Beth was the best thing that ever happened to me⁠—⁠I couldn’t lose her. Not now.

  “She’s busy,” I said, and I took Beth’s hand and walked her away.

  “Hey!” Beth shouted, annoyed and confused, but I didn’t let go.

  “What are you doing?” Beth demanded. “What’s gotten into you?”

  Rage⁠—⁠rage was what had gotten into me. Rage and jealousy.

  “You were looking at him!” I shouted, and I didn’t care who heard. She had been looking at him, and in the way that she normally looked at me. I needed an explanation. No, an explanation wasn’t enough. I needed an action of some sort. A declaration of love.

  I needed something.

  Beth slapped me across the face. I didn’t need that. Or perhaps I did; the slap brought my hormones back to where they should be. I was a fool. An ass. Beth was upset.

  “I… I stuffed up, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah,” Beth said, hotly. “You did.”

  I had no words. I had no actions. I had nothing except shame and regret. I was a fool.

  Beth pulled free of me and headed back to the group.

  “Where are you going?” I demanded.

  “Back to him,” she said. “Back to someone who isn’t such an idiot!”

  I let her go and just stood there for a while. I was confused, threatened. Did Beth still love me? Would she leave me for… For him? Who was he, anyway? Just a guy. And he was going to become a marine, of all things! Not an engineer; engineers were better than marines. More prestigious. That’s why my parents had concentrated their genetics for me. It gave me a brighter future.

  I still had the form in my pocket. I should have gone and lodged it. I headed off in the direction of the sign-up office. I would lodge it.

  Somehow I never ended up at the office. I found myself by the canals, walking along the raised embankment. The water below was putrid. They said the water off-world was so pure you could bathe in it. The air was clean, too. Virgin air, if there could be such a thing: so many planets out there that you could find one that had air untasted by anybody else’s lungs.

  That was what awaited me. Adventure and excitement. Beth was just a… A phase, my father had said. Just a thing to go through and then put away.

  I was about to cry. Like a little girl. My genetics were going to spill all over the pavement because of a girl. I wasn’t cut to be an engineer⁠—⁠or a marine.

  “Damn you!” I cursed him. Why did he have to turn up and take my girl from me? He had reduced me to a mess. Him and Beth. I didn’t have the tools to deal with it. I was lost.

  I went home. Skipped dinner. Didn’t talk to my parents. Waited for a message from Beth. It didn’t come, not for a long time. When it did, it was just a simple: ok?

  That was all. Hardly a declaration of love.

  I need to see you, I sent to her.

  I’m out, the message came a moment later. A few more heartbeats and then: with Taylor.

  Taylor… I hated him.

  I didn’t sleep. How could I sleep with Beth and Taylor together? I could only imagine what they were doing. Talking. Laughing. Giggling.

  Then his hand would brush against hers, and she wouldn’t pull away. They were both marines. They would go through basic training together, go to war together. Plenty of time to get to know each other. No need to rush… So why were they kissing? I could see it clearly in my mind. Taylor and Beth entwined, lips and tongues and spit shared all together. His hands would be all over her. She was moaning. Nakedness, sweat, fogged windows… Of course that was what they were doing. That’s what Taylor would love to do with Beth.

  Beth. My girl.

  I was in my hover racer before I knew what I was doing. I took the streets at speed⁠—⁠reckless, perhaps, but I had to find her. I had a plan in my mind. It was a reckless plan, but it was all I had.

  I would fight him for her. A duel.

  Yes, Taylor was stronger and built for combat. I didn’t care.

  I was smarter⁠—⁠I knew that. What I lacked in brawn I would make up in cunning. Beth would see how much more worthy I was as her mate. I would win her back.

  I just had to find them.

  I had no idea what hover racer they were in. But Beth was showing him around, so that meant… The beach, the launchpad, the training grounds… I did a loop of the standard hang-outs.

  They weren’t at the beach. I cruised the couples that were parked and locked together. There were others cruising, too, but they were their for more perverse reasons than me.

  I moved on. Th
e training grounds were deserted at this hour. I felt stupid. I wasn’t going to find them, and even if I did, so what? I had calmed down a bit. The loneliness had done it for me⁠—⁠Beth was just being friendly. I had no reason to doubt her. I should go home.

  But first… Yeah, I might as well visit the launchpad. It was always beautiful at night. So I headed there, not to find them but to just salvage some of the night and enjoy myself a bit.

  And that’s when I saw them. They were parked watching the giant freight shuttles loading from the robot cranes. I could see inside the bubble of Taylor’s hover racer. His arm was around Beth. She didn’t seem to mind.

  The colour drained from my face. They must have sensed me staring at them as they both turned to look at me.

  Beth’s eyes went wide. She turned white.

  Taylor grinned and then grabbed the joystick to his racer. I could see him laughing as he launched forward, into the launchpad. Trying to get away from me.

  I gave chase.

  SIX

  Our two hover racers charged through the launchpad. The launchpads were was always busy: freight coming and going, rockets firing constantly, robotic cranes moving back and forth in an endless rhythm. There was smoke and fog and mist everywhere, and everything was lit in orange and bright white. What wasn’t lit was shadow, almost completely black.

  Our two racers were like fluorescent stars in comparison. Mine was bright red; Taylor’s was bright green.

  Taylor was in front. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to get away from me or just showing off. He whipped around a corner so fast that the robotic cranes shut down as though there was an emergency.

  I raced past a half-second later. I could see water shooting out behind me, swept up in my wake. I gripped my joystick for all I could. It was taking all my concentration to keep up with Taylor’s weaving and winding.

  In the transparent bubble of Taylor’s racer, I could see Beth screaming. Was she screaming for joy? Out of fear? I could see her staring at me, but we were moving so fast that I couldn’t concentrate on her face. All I could see was the whites of her eyes and her open mouth.

  Fear. It had to be fear.

  Another corner⁠—⁠we took it so fast that I lost control. My racer spun around over the empty tarmac before the joystick responded to my commands and the chase resumed. Taylor was just a spot on the horizon now, but I could see where he was headed.

  I aimed to cut him off.

  I raced across a dozen launchpads and charged through at full throttle. Water and mist and rocket smoke flew in all directions as I shot past.

  An automated freighter took off in front of me. I was almost too close to react but I wrenched my controls to the side to avoid the old-fashioned rocket engine as the freighter raced towards the sky. I corrected, kept racing.

  I closed in. Did Taylor not realise I was still chasing him? Had he forgotten about me, thought I had given up?

  No⁠—⁠he was waiting for me. As soon as I closed in he whipped across to my right. His wake washed across my racer. I wasn’t ready for it at all.

  I spun around, still chasing. Taylor was absolutely flying now. His racer was a blur. We wound through open hangers. Then through stacks of crates ready for shipping, through fields of robot cranes waiting to start work. The race was winding, the pace reckless. I could still see Beth in the bubble of Taylor’s racer. She looked like she was hitting him. Urging him to stop. Urging him to let her out.

  Or was she urging him to go faster?

  Either way, I was going to chase him down. And once I caught him I was going to hit him, consequences be damned.

  I closed in. Taylor started flying more and more erratically. It was hard to keep on his tail but I not only managed that but I closed in, too. Closer. Closer. So close I could feel the jet-wash come through the bubble of my racer.

  Taylor swung his racer to the left to get away. A robot crane swung to the right at the same time, fully laden with a space crate. There was no chance the two could miss each other.

  They hit.

  Taylor’s racer spun to the right. It was already a fireball. Chunks of shrapnel flew in all directions. I cried out in shock and horror as I flew through the wreckage. Flames engulfed my racer but I was unharmed.

  I came to a stop and jumped out. Taylor’s racer exploded. Black smoke belched into the sky.

  Already, I could hear sirens as emergency robo-medics raced to the scene. There were people about, too⁠—⁠I hadn’t noticed them watching us race, but they were running over to help.

  I stood there, dumbfounded. Flames reached for the sky.

  “Beth…” I managed, and then I started running towards the wreckage. “Beth!”

  There was a figure standing there. I couldn’t make them out, they were just a black shape. Beth. I ran towards her.

  “Beth!” she was okay. It was okay. “Beth!”

  Everyone arrived at the same time: me, the onlookers, the robo-medics. The scene grew crowded and there I was and all I wanted to do was hug Beth and tell her it was all going to be alright.

  The figure wasn’t Beth.

  “Whoah,” Taylor said, and he ran a hand through dishevelled hair. “That was a bad one. Are you alright, Beth? Beth?”

  Taylor just stood there and looked at the burning wreckage. Even the robo-medics didn’t go in there to save her, and they were designed to save any living thing.

  Any living thing…

  “Oh,” Taylor said.

  I just stared at the flames, and then I stared at Taylor with murder in my eyes. He had done this. This was his fault. I couldn’t do anything now because there were too many witnesses, but I would do something.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out my engineering transfer form. I scrunched it up and threw it into the flames.

  Taylor was going to die.

  SEVEN

  “Who are you?”

  “Marine!”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Marine!”

  “Dismissed!”

  And so we were inducted into the marine corps, ready to start basic training.

  The Devastator was still orbiting Earth, but it would leave soon. For where, none of us knew. We were all the same in that regard: clueless.

  “This way!” one of the training stewards ordered and it was clear we had to follow. Our group fell into line and followed the steward through the ship. Out of the hanger, past the drop ships, the fighters, the maintenance bots, the mechanised walkers. Past row upon row of small arms and heavy artillery. Down, deeper into the battleship, the ramp curled around missile silos and reactor chambers and a whole host of equipment that was foreign to me.

  Further, deeper, it was hotter here and there was a constant hum of machinery coming from the steel-grey walls.

  Then we reached our rest chambers: row upon row of coffin-like beds, with metal ladders built into the wall to climb to the higher levels.

  “These are your quarters,” the steward told us. “Each bunk is shared, twelve hours a day, between two of you. When one sleeps the other drills. You won’t see each other. Just remember that you are sharing your bed: you can treat it with respect or like a garbage dump, the choice is up to you. The only one that will care is your bed mate. Your numbers are assigned. Stow your gear and then assemble on the upper promenade deck. We will be jumping to hyperspace soon, and you all need to be present for your first jump. Get to it.”

  The steward left us and we had to find our bunks. I waited for the chaos to die down⁠—⁠everyone excited, in a rush, eager to get their bunk sorted. When it was calm, I found my number and located my bunk.

  I was on the third level up from the deck. I climbed the ladder and used my thumb chip to open the cover that protected my bunk from the outside world. Within the cavity was a tomb with a single mattress and a bed and a pillow. There were two cabinets, one at either side of the bed. The one by the foot opened to my touch and was empty. I climbed into the chamber and stowed my pack. There wou
ld be time enough later to unpack it.

  On the bed was a note. I picked it up. The note read: touch my stuff and die.

  Charming.

  I left my bunk⁠—⁠and the note⁠—⁠and climbed back to the deck.

  “Where is the promenade deck?” another recruit asked.

  “This way “I said, and walked back the way we had come. I didn’t know where the promenade deck was, either, but I assumed that if two of us didn’t then nobody else would, either. I might as well lead the way.

  More recruits followed us, like baby ducklings. We reached a set of stairs that led up. I didn’t miss a beat and climbed them. The promenade would be higher than where we were. Even though this was a spaceship, it still had an up and a down, and I went up. The recruits followed blindly.

  The steward was waiting at the top of the stairs.

  “Stupid recruits, don’t you know anything?” he sneered.

  “No,” I replied truthfully. I didn’t know anything. The steward glared at me, annoyed that I wasn’t rising to his bait.

  “You’re going the wrong way,” he said. “The promenade deck is down.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and then added quickly: “Sir.”

  I felt the steward’s hateful glare on my back as we reversed course.

  “I thought you said you knew the way,” the recruit grumbled at me.

  “I do now,” I said and headed down, past the bunk level and deeper still.

  “Are you sure this is the right way?” someone asked.

  “It is the way the steward said to go,” I said, but⁠—⁠no⁠—⁠I was not sure at all. In fact, I was pretty sure the steward had lied to us.

  We reached the bottom of the stairs. There was nothing there but empty corridors that were dripping with oil and water.

  “All recruits to the promenade deck. All recruits to the promenade deck,” a voice came across the speaker.

  “Good one, idiot,” the recruit spat in my direction and then started running back up the stairs. The others joined him, jostling to get a good position on the railing.