The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy)

by Sweeney, Stephen

  I was therefore angered by Estelle’s comment, and so I let her have it.

  I reminded Estelle that she should stop trying to become an overnight success and needed to stop wanting so much, so quickly. She may have outranked me, but for all the work she’d put in, the difference between Second Lieutenant and First Lieutenant really wasn’t much to crow about. And if she carried on making enemies at Spirit, then she was going to get nowhere, fast. People would find her too difficult to work with. She wouldn’t be known as Estelle de Winter, the cream of the Confederation Navy, she’d simply be known as That Bitch. And, quite frankly, that was often the first impression most people really got of her.

  Thinking back on it, I did take things a little far. Still, after a few tense minutes and some very unpleasant words, we both ended up apologising to one another. Estelle confessed to me then that she had actually considered quitting the service. I told her not to worry about it too much and to look upon our time at Spirit as a transitional period and nothing more. I was then quick to change the subject.

  I chose a good one – Chaz, the man who was still something of an enigma to us. We had noticed that night in the Club how he had been sitting with Dodds and Enrique and a number of other servicemen, merrily enjoying a game of poker. His usual cold demeanour seemed to have evaporated, making him a lot more approachable. Even so, I could tell that he was still keeping things close to his chest. He was neither being too quiet nor too loud, either of which could cause one to stand out. He was acting like a real blend-in; instantly forgettable. He was only also drinking at a modest pace, and disguising that well, too. I told Estelle what Enrique had told me about the Cardinal incident, of how Chaz had hacked the Ray’s onboard comms systems, to hook into the Merekat. It was the only reason why we hadn’t been killed when both vessels had gone up, Chaz providing ample warning to us of what had happened on the Cardinal. We both began to wonder just who it was that Parks had assigned to our group, and for what reason. That he might have had prior knowledge of what had really happened during the Mitikas civil war never crossed our minds.

  And so, we spent the remainder of the night enjoying the impromptu and misplaced festivity, revelling in what was ultimately a fake celebration, the kind often enjoyed by poor role models, socialites and those famous only for being famous. The sort of event that Gemma and Susan relished, and the sort that I’d turned my back on.

  I do miss my sisters, though. So very, very much.

  *

  Dodds eyed Estelle and Kelly as they sat around a small, high table. They were drinking cocktails, or rather, had been. Estelle was crunching her straw around the ice that sat melting at the bottom of her glass. Kelly had had a thunderous look on her face just a moment ago, and Estelle now appeared a little regretful. Were they fighting over there, he wondered. Going by the snatches of conversation he’d caught from a group of people close to the sofa he sat at, it certainly sounded like it.

  “What’s going on?”

  “The neurotic one and the spoilt one are arguing.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. I don’t think there’s a single person on the base that de Winter hasn’t picked a fight with.”

  “What exactly is her problem?”

  “Ego.”

  “Nice-looking, though.”

  “Don’t bother, she’s really full of herself.”

  “Is that Kelly Taylor she’s having a go at?”

  “Yeah. They both got here last month.”

  “Could someone explain to me why she’s even here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if I were her, I wouldn’t be. I’d be spending all that money her father’s got.”

  “You know, you’re a real credit to the service.”

  “No, I’m just making a point. You probably would, too.”

  “Like her sisters?”

  “You know, I heard she hates them?”

  “No, she doesn’t hate them. They just don’t get on.”

  “Tell you what, I wish my dad had done that.”

  “Done what?”

  “Been a galactic commodities trader.”

  “It wasn’t her dad, it was her great-great-great-grandfather or something like that.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to do it these days, anyway. The market for that sort of thing was only around for a short time, before all the major corporations started to get in on the act. He was a smart man, you’ve got to give him that.”

  “What are they fighting about?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care.”

  Dodds did, though. He wondered if he should intervene.

  “Dodds? Dodds?”

  “Huh?” Dodds said, hazily aware that Enrique was speaking to him.

  “Hello? Earth to Simon!” Enrique called.

  Dodds turned back to the six other men he sat with around a low table, stacked with cards from their game. All six pairs of eyes were on him. “What’s up?” he asked.

  “You being distracted?” one of the four others he sat with asked, nodding to a couple who shared their couch, still kissing one another with an almost unfathomable eagerness, as if they had learned to do so without oxygen.

  Though Dodds hadn’t been paying them much attention, he was aware that they had spent the best part of the past half-hour clambering all over one another, in a somewhat overly flamboyant display of affection.

  “Not getting ideas already, I hope,” the same man added. “At least not until we’re finished with the game.”

  “We’re calling it. What you got?” Enrique prompted, reaching out and lowering the cards that Dodds held.

  “Oh, sorry,” Dodds said, “pair of twos.”

  “Ha!” declared one of the four that sat opposite. “I win again!” He threw his cards down on the table, showing off his winning hand of three kings, before taking a pull on his bottle of beer. “Can we start playing for money now?”

  There were murmurs of refusal.

  The winner sighed. “Fine. Right, come on, dealer. Let’s see if we can make it three in a row.”

  Dodds had never been much good at the game, even when playing for sport. The group were playing poker, with Enrique acting as dealer. For the most part they were playing for fun, but one of their four companions for the evening had decided to sneak a bottle of whiskey in with him, intending to use it as an ice-breaker. The strong liquor had now taken on a new role of acting as a penalty for anyone who played an appalling hand. Dodds had noted that this was becoming quite a regular occurrence for Enrique, who had failed to beat any of the other players during the last few rounds.

  “You know, mate, if this were a casino you’d be looking for a new job round about now,” he commented.

  Enrique snorted his reply.

  “How many of those have you had?” Dodds asked, indicating the little shot glass on the table.

  “Too many by the looks of things,” one of the other men said, “clearly can’t hold his drink.”

  “Can, too!” Enrique said. “I’m not that drunk.”

  “Sure, whatever.”

  “Ask me anything,” Enrique challenged, “I’ll give you a straight answer.”

  “Okay, see if you can remember all our names again,” the first man said.

  Enrique paused, thinking. A short moment later, he gave a sloshy giggle. He’d clearly forgotten. “Er … little help?” he motioned to Dodds.

  Ordinary, Dodds would’ve done so. Only trouble was that he hadn’t really been paying attention during the introductions. He stole a glance at Chaz, who was taking a relaxed swig of beer. The big man then leaned forward.

  “Casper Heywood, Seth McLeod, Ian Barclay and PJ Burgess,” he said, nodding his bottle at each man in succession. “You all recently transferred in from Ecuador Minor, except for Seth, who arrived from Parish. Seth was previously the wing commander of the Nightmare Banshees, before it was disbanded. You all now fly with the Steel Bulls, under the command of Katherine Strickland.”

&nbs
p; Damn, Dodds thought, as Chaz leaned placidly back in his seat. That was detailed. How’d he remember all that?

  “Good memory,” Heywood said, appearing suitably impressed with Chaz’s recollection of what they’d all been told. “Best watch that one,” he added to his colleagues. “More than likely he’s a hustler and been counting cards all night.”

  “Hey, wait, I know these two,” McLeod interrupted. “You’re Simon Dodds and Enrique Todd – The Odd Brothers.” A quizzical look crossed the faces of his three companions. McLeod elaborated, “These guys were pretty much inseparable at flight school. Never used to be far from one another. We ended up calling them the Odd Brothers, because they were so much like family. We all thought we’d one day see them walking along holding hands.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that,” Dodds said, attempting to move the conversation on before it became embarrassing.

  “Weren’t you dating that girl, Esther or something? The one who thought the sun shone out of her arse?”

  “Estelle,” Dodds corrected. “Yeah, that one,” he added, seeing McLeod glance briefly in the direction of the woman sat at a table with Kelly. The group simultaneously turned to look at Estelle, before all eyes were distracted by the couple who were still devouring one another. It looked as though one was going to swallow the other whole at any moment.

  “Should tell them to go do that somewhere else,” McLeod muttered irritably. “They’re right in my bloody eye-line.” His focus returned to Dodds. “You two still together?”

  “No,” Dodds said, “we’re not seeing each other anymore. She said she didn’t have time for me and wanted to focus on her career.”

  “Shame.”

  “Not really,” Heywood said, “I heard she’s a right bitch. No offence”, he added to Dodds.

  “None taken.”

  “Why is she like that? So self-absorbed, I mean?”

  “She wants to make something of herself,” Dodds said.

  “Yeah, well, that’s obvious. I’ve heard she’s not popular at all, though. Most people tiptoe around her. There’s no excuse to act like that.”

  Dodds could think of one. Well, several actually. “Look,” he said, “she doesn’t come from a particularly well-off family. She was born on one of the colonies on Tilli. You know how it is out there – they never had a lot of money and had to get by mostly on state benefits. Her parents worked whenever they could find it, but, again, you’ve probably heard how it is. She quit school early, so that she could try to help bring in some cash, but it didn’t make a whole lot of difference. They couldn’t even up sticks; they couldn’t afford to settle down anywhere else, let alone afford the cost of the transport in the first place.”

  “Should’ve just married some rich guy,” McLeod said. “With a body like that, she’d not have had too many problems.”

  “But that wouldn’t do much about her sense of worthlessness,” Dodds said. “After relying on others to support you your whole life, it wouldn’t do her any good to think that she would never achieve anything. So, she joined the navy to prove to her family and herself that she was worth more than all of that. She sends most of the money she earns home to them, since they’re still only just managing to live above the line. It helps, but they also have to support her brother, who was crippled during a live-fire exercise in the CMI …”

  Dodds felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Chaz.

  “I think you’ve told us all enough now, eh?” the big man said.

  Dodds conceded that he probably had done, too. Whilst he was aware that he had just dispensed a great deal of very personal information about a friend to a group of men he didn’t know, he was only trying to defend the Estelle that he knew better than everyone else. Even so, it appeared to have done the trick – the four who had joined them around the poker table looked more sympathetic.

  “Still,” McLeod said, glancing back over to Estelle, who was taking a glass from Kelly, “shame to have let that one go.”

  “Oh, she’s been known to change her mind from time to time,” Enrique said, with a grin. “At least until the following morning, that is.”

  “Thanks for that, mate,” Dodds said. He then wagged his beer at McLeod. “Getting back to things – yeah, I sort of remember you now, too. I think we did a few basic rosters together. Nice to see you again. Good to see you’re still with the service.”

  “Yeah, you too,” McLeod said, “drink this.” He thrust the shot glass, filled to the brim with neat whiskey, at Dodds.

  Dodds declined, and directed it towards Enrique.

  “I’m not drinking it,” Enrique began.

  “You failed your own challenge,” Dodds said.

  Enrique reluctantly took the glass and downed it in one, coughing a couple of times before handing it back. “After this round, I will be passing the dealing over to my good friend Dodds here,” he drawled, scooping his beer off the table and knocking back a good amount of the contents. “God, I hate whiskey.”

  “Let me try,” Dodds said, relieving Enrique of the glass and refilling it, before downing it in one go. It didn’t actually taste too bad. He could happily drink some more of that.

  “Right, come on – deal,” Barclay said, keen to continue the game.

  “Just a moment,” Enrique said, before turning to the couple that shared their couch. “Hey, Romeo, do you think you guys could lock lips some place else? It’s getting far too distracting. I’m on the verge of losing the house its money.”

  “You want to suggest where?”, the male half of the couple said, managing to wrench his lips away from those of his eager companion, presenting Enrique with an irritated stare. “Don’t suppose you’ve noticed, but there’s little in the way of privacy around here, them not giving us private quarters like that lot up on the orbital. And there aren’t many places in town that rent rooms by the hour, either.”

  “You want me to tell you where to go?” Enrique asked.

  Dodds suspected that he might have meant it in more ways than one. Romeo said nothing, his expression unchanged. Apparently he thought so, too.

  “South block storage room,” Enrique said. “It’s never locked, rarely patrolled, and you should be able to find a spare mattress in there to suit your needs.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” Enrique said, “one of Mandelah’s little, secret meeting spots. Shouldn’t be too cold in there, either.”

  Dodds wasn’t quite sure what to be more impressed with – Enrique’s intimate knowledge of the naval base, or that, by the sounds of it, he’d been sneaking off for some discrete encounters of his own. Either way, the suggestion appeared to have done the trick and after a very brief discussion, the two got up and left, the man giving Enrique a wink as they went.

  Dodds watched them go, his attention straying once more to Estelle and Kelly. They were laughing with one another now, Estelle looking particularly cheery considering the argument she and Kelly appeared to have had. Perhaps she just needed to get something off her chest. It was nice to see her looking happy, especially after the disappointment she had suffered following the termination of their involvement in the ATAF project. She glanced in his direction, her gaze flickering over the men sitting around the low table. She caught his eye and smiled at him. He smiled back, then, prompted by a whistle, returned his attention to the game at hand.

  “So, why’d you boys decide to enlist, then?” Heywood asked, picking up the cards Enrique had dealt and scrutinising them.

  “Well,” Dodds began, seeing the group’s gaze fall on him, “I didn’t want to do the whole nine-to-five thing; it just didn’t interest me. I wanted to get out there and see and do things, find a bit of adventure. I wanted to feel like I was a bit more than some cog in a big old machine, that could work just as well without me. So, at the end of the day, it was either this or stay in the family business and spend my life looking after apples.”

  He watched the impassive expressions for a moment and then saw Barclay’s face split into a
grin.

  “Ahh,” Barclay said, with a chuckle. “So, you wanted to join the navy and become a hero!”

  “No—” Dodds started.

  “Yeah, you did,” Barclay laughed, “you thought that if you joined the navy, you’d get to blow stuff up, go on daring missions, earn tons of medals and get to sleep with lots of beautiful women.”

  “No, I just wanted to do something different. You know, give something back to the Confederacy. Be a part of something special,” Dodds tried again.

  “Definitely wanted to be a hero,” Heywood said. He leaned forward and clinked his bottle off Dodds’ own. “Have they commissioned the statue yet? You standing there, flight helmet under one arm, looking skyward in a formal and dignified way. A plaque beneath, talking about some awesome heroic deed you did …” He could barely finish the sentence, he was laughing so much.

  Dodds felt a little appalled. All four were laughing at him. He turned to Enrique and Chaz, seeking support, but saw that they, too, were enjoying the teasing, Enrique laughing, Chaz wearing a thin smile.

  Sure, okay, Dodds admitted. At one point, he did want to be a hero. But that was at a time in the past, a time that he’d rather now forget. Not that he ever did.

  “What about you?” Heywood turned his attention to Enrique, who shielded his playing cards. Dodds looked around to his friend, curious as to how Enrique might answer the question. Few outside their small circle of friends were aware of Enrique’s back story. Dodds wasn’t even sure if Enrique had ever told Chaz.