Chapter XXV: Through These Broken Streets
Sara looked around at the cracked streets. This road had been a few
blocks from the outskirts of the fighting, but still it had seen some
minor damage.
She and Jim walked down the street silently. She looked to her side at
the stores they passed and brought Jim's attention to one of them.
“Bookstore with a cafe. You in for some hot tea?”
“Coffee, more like,” Jim replied. “Lead the way.”
They entered the store and ordered their drinks, then sat down at a
small table.
Sara took a sip of her tea and let its heat warm her body. She looked
up at Jim and smiled. “We made it.”
He smiled back. “Yeah, I believe we did.”
“What will we do now?”
“I think that's up to the Imperial military.”
Sara frowned. “I wish for once we could have a rest beyond a week or
so. It's getting tiring having to fight almost daily.”
“I know what you mean.” Jim took a sip of his drink and leaned back.
“The starship travel isn't that fun, either.”
“I don't think I'll ever get used to the hum and the throb of the
engines.”
Jim chuckled. “You're not the only one.”
Sara looked out the windows of the store. Few people walked by. “This
doesn't seem like much of a victory.”
Jim nodded. “I know. But it sure beats being dead.”
Sara sighed. “At least, for some of us.”
“Bill?”
“Yeah.”
“He'll make it. He's tough. Poor guy might have a rough time of it,
but he'll live.”
“I'm glad you have confidence in him.”
Jim smiled. “Of course. He's practically family.” He leaned across the
table. “Hey, let's stop all of this down stuff and start talking about
something happier.”
“Like?”
“Like us.”
“Sure,” Sara said, glad to agree. “Let's do.”
* * *
Mel took another bite of his pasta. Jessy smiled as he tried to catch
a falling noodle with his fork.
He swallowed his food and said, “What? You think something's funny?”
Jessy laughed. “Of course. And don't you even think of saying you
don't.”
“Okay, you got me. But I know I'll have my revenge when you try it.”
“I'm sure you will.”
A waiter showed up at their table, holding a covered dish. He turned
to Jessy and said, “Your extra dish, ma'am.”
Jessy turned to Mel and frowned. “I didn't order anything extra.”
Mel shrugged. “Hey, what the heck. See what it is, might be something
you'd like.”
The waiter handed the dish to Jessy, then bowed, took the cover, and
made a hasty retreat toward the kitchen.
Jessy looked down at the silver platter in front of her. There was no
food on it. Instead, a small white box sat in the middle of the
platter.
She looked up suspiciously at Mel, who merely had a look of passive
curiosity upon his face. Curious herself, she opened the box.
Inside was a ring with a single small blue gem set atop it.
She looked up and saw Mel smiling. “You must be one good poker
player.”
“I've been known to knock off officers' paychecks, yes, but the
important thing is your answer to the question presented before you.”
Jessy took the ring and slid it on her finger. “That answer it for
you?”
“Perfectly.”
“If I could ask, Mel, why propose? I mean, I know we have a really
deep love for each other and all, but what made you so sure you want
to commit?”
Mel closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. He opened his eyes
again and stared into Jessy's eyes. “A few reasons, really. I want to
spend time with you. More time. I want someone to start over with, and
that's you. I need someone I can share my feelings with, good or bad,
and that's been you for as long as I've known you. So I figured, if
we're already going to act like we're married, why not just go and
make it official?”
“Yeah, that'd be my reasons, too,” Jessy said.
“So... you think maybe we should start planning for the ceremony?”
“In due course. For now, let's just enjoy our meal and then we can
discuss how to make sure each and every aspect of our marriage is
happy.”
* * *
Bob stretched his legs. The day was wonderful. It was sunny, not too
warm or cold, and the park looked absolutely amazing.
“Enjoying yourself?” asked Janet, sitting beside him.
“Definitely.”
“Nice break, isn't it? Too bad it's probably temporary.”
“Ah, now you're talking like one of us whiney old-timers,” Bob said.
“But you're wrong on one count.”
“Oh?”
“It's not temporary.”
“What do you mean?”
Bob smiled. “When I went to accept my promotion to lieutenant, I was
told that the platoon would be staying on Ducal. We're the last shreds
of the Median IV, and they don't want to pay for transporting us to
another world. And since we basically saved this world for them, they
had to find someway to show their thanks.”
“That's great!”
“It certainly is. I've gotten a little tired of all this fighting. It
tends to wear away at the soul.”
“I know what you mean.” Janet sighed. “But, on the up side, not
everyone's feeling so terrible. You've heard the news about Mel and
Jessy?”
Bob laughed. “Word travels fast, especially when it was just last
night that they made that decision.”
Janet slid over on the bench, closer to Bob. She leaned toward him and
quietly said, “So, have you thought about, well, us? Maybe following
the same path?”
Bob shrugged. “I don't know. I just got through what has to be the
worst kind of hell a man can go through. I'm not sure if I'd be much
of a spiritual partner right now.”
“Friends are helpful when dealing with that kind of stress, Bob.”
He looked over at Janet and smirked. “And lovers?”
“Them, too.”
Bob looked off to the side. It was a big decision, probably the
biggest of his life. But he needed something to make everything seem
worthwhile, and nothing and nobody waits forever. He turned back to
Janet and asked, “Are you ready to be Mrs. Janet Oliver?”
She smiled. “I'm ready, if you are.”
Bob sighed and felt a load of pressure leave his body. “Then it's
settled. Within the month we'll officially be the Olivers, brand new
residents of the planet Ducal.”
* * *
He sat on the edge of the roof, looking down at the shattered roads,
the busted sidewalks, and the crumbled buildings. All around, there
was devastation.
Bill closed his eyes. It was much like his own inner feelings.
He heard footsteps and turned to see Jennifer walking toward him.
“What do you want?” he snapped.
She hesitated, then said, “I was hoping I could help you.”
“With what?”
“Dealing with your losses, Bill.”
“Why does everyone thing they can help? Why can't they leave their
noses out, and let me sit in peace, on a roof, like Bob somehow
manages to do?”
Jennifer seemed nervous. She said, “Look, Bill, we're all concerned
about you...”
“Oh, so now it's 'we' and not 'I'. What, did everyone think I needed
some kind of pity party?”
“No, it's just-...”
Bill rose to his feet and shouted, “I don't need your Emperor-damned
pity! I just want to be left alone.”
“Bill...”
“Can't you get it through your thick heads? Leave me the hell alone,
and don't come back on this roof!”
Jennifer's lip quivered, as if she wanted to say something. Instead,
she began to cry. She turned and ran for the door to the stairwell,
letting it slam shut behind her.
Bill turned back to the broken city, feeling both angry and sad. He
was angry for the constant interference by others, but the reaction
he'd just gotten from Jennifer made him feel even more miserable than
he already was.
* * *
Bob looked at the broken black stones around him. There were still
traces of blood on the ground. He knew some of it was probably his.
The courtyard seemed eerily empty without the large Eldar monolith
standing in its center. But it had been destroyed in the final battle.
He kicked a few stones, toed a few shards of busted gems.
To his amazement, the air around him began to shimmer and took on a
bluish haze. From the center of the haze, two tall and thin figures
wearing outfits that looked like a rainbow's collision with a clothing
factory paired with a grimly smiling facial mask stepped forward. They
stopped in front of him.
One of the figures drew out a small gemstone shaped like a tear. It
was attached to a gold necklace.
The alien spoke. “Greetings. We are messengers for the Craftworld
Dorcha Geal. We've come here to present you with a gift.”
Bob frowned. “A gift? My death by psychic torture, I presume?”
“No. This is a true gift, from someone who believes you deserve to
have your soul be allowed to rest. Luthien sends his wishes for your
spirit's health, and believes this may aid you.”
“Luthien? He's the Farseer I slew, right?”
“Correct. His spirit lives on yet.”
“So what is this?”
“It is a special psychic focus crystal. It will help you to push away
any dark emotions or thoughts that cloud your mind. It will also
protect your spirit in future times.” The Eldar held out the gem.
Bob took the gem, wondering whether it could be some sort of Eldar
trick. But it was a moot point. They'd lost too much to parley about
with tricks like this.
He looked back up at the two Eldar. “You won't be coming back to this
world again, will you?”
“No. Our duty here is done.”
“What duty was that?”
The Eldar should his head. “I can't tell you that. But I suspect you
already knew I could not divulge such information to you. You are
indeed a smart man, Robert Oliver. May your path of fate never meet
any unfortunate road bumps.”
Bob frowned. “What a peculiarly human thing to say.”
The Eldar chuckled. “A human phrase for a human audience.” He turned,
and began to walk back to the haze in the air, apparently some kind of
portal. “Be vigilant, Robert Oliver. You and your people are the last
true hope for this galaxy's survival.”
With that the two Eldar left, leaving Bob to ponder the meaning of
their words and the gift they had given him.
* * *
Bill looked out over the cemetery. Thousands of white gravesite
markers dotted the ground, each embedded with a dog tag that had once
been worn by a soldier.
He'd found the ones belonging to Lisa Mitchell and Star Amber Becker
and had placed a bouquet of flowers at each of them. Now he stood
back, wondering what was so damned important that so many men had to
die.
Others he remembered so well lay in those graves. Paul, Mack, Perry,
Joe, Walter, Mary, Ralph, Dennis, and so many other soldiers he'd
called friends.
He walked up the side of one of the hills overlooking the cemetery and
sat down. He drew his legs close to his chest and sat silently staring
at the rows of markers. When he looked up he could the city in the
distance.
The men and women in the graves weren't the only ones touched by the
battle. In the city, civilians had lost their lives. On Medis, far
away, families had to learn of their members' deaths. Others, on other
worlds, shared the same pain. This battle was so much larger than
those who'd participated in it.
He leaned back, lying down on the side of the hill. There was
something soothing in the air, like a feeling of peace.
He recognized it, five minutes after he'd first felt it. There was no
sound of gunfire. No screams of wounded or dying. No explosions. No
engines screaming. It was silent, without the sounds of battle.
And in that silence he fell asleep. |
