Forge of War (Jack of Harts) (21 page)

BOOK: Forge of War (Jack of Harts)
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Hello, my name is Jack.  When you lose something amazing, you have to choose whether you are going to curl up in a ball and cry, or celebrate everything you still have.  I’ve never been the kind to curl up and cry, so I find myself a party.  I find some people who want to dance, I find some good music, and I find myself something to celebrate.  For me, that’s life.  Living it is the ultimate celebration of that gift.

 

 

 

Celebration

 

Jack held on tight as the gleaming white cigar-shaped shuttle fell through the clear air.  After months of being his own pilot, he really hated being a passenger.  It didn’t really make sense of course.  A cyber flew the shuttle, just like it was Betty who
actually
flew their fighter, but a primal instinct in him just wanted to grab the controls anyways.  With those sealed in the piloting compartment, and only the armrests of his seat in the cargo compartment in range, he worked his hands over them, his knuckles going white with the strain.

“Relax, Jack,” Betty said into his ear.  The shuttle was too small for the cybers to have their own seats, so only the nine remaining Cowboys sat in them.  The cybers sat on their shoulders in small mode, most of them around twenty centimeters in height if standing.  Jack was the only one to have two of them, one on each shoulder.  He thought of all the stories of a good angel on one shoulder and a bad one on the other and almost smiled.

“You’ll blow a blood vessel if you keep this up,” Jasmine added, putting in her vote for good angel.

“So I’m a bad back seat rider,” Jack returned, not about to tell them what he was thinking.

“More like impossible,” Betty whispered, giving her a vote on the bad angel column.

Jack rolled his eyes and held on tight.  The shuttle came to a stop with a slight bump and he sighed in relief.  He sucked in a deep breath.

“We are here, and did not lose anyone on the way,” Charles said with a smile.  “Check your uniforms before debarking.  I want everybody to look good out there.”

“Oorah,” The Cowboys responded with some chuckles.

Jack checked his Dress Whites for any wrinkles, pulled them tight, and sucked in a deep breath.  He ran his hand over the ribbons on his left breast, one for Fort Wichita, one for Fort London, and a few more the civilians thought would make the overall fruit salad look better.  He pursed his lips and shook his head.  Six months ago, he’d been one of those civilians.  Now…he shook his head again, reached up and grabbed the white cowboy hat off its hook and placed it on his head.

He looked around to see the other pilots similarly ready, and they began to file out towards the exit.  As each one approached the exit, the cyber on his or her shoulder jumped down to the deck and grew to full height, wearing the full Dress Whites of the Texas branch of the United States Marine Corps, just like their pilots.  He idly wondered what it must look like to anyone watching outside, as more and more people walked out of the small shuttle.  He didn’t even notice he was humming the clown car song until the other Cowboys began to laugh.

“Shut it, Jester!” Charles shouted, a suspicious hitch in his voice, and then coughed into his white glove, probably to cover a laugh.

“Aye, aye, Chief,” Jack answered with a wink.

Charles shook his head and waved Jack out.  Betty and Jasmine jumped off his shoulders, growing to full height as they landed, and walked out before him, white cowboy hats shimmering into existence.  Jack shook his head with a smile.  This had to look impressive out there.  Either that or really silly.  He wasn’t completely certain which.

He stepped outside and looked up at the twin suns in New Earth’s blue sky, one yellow and one orange, and shook his head.  Two suns were just wrong.  There was a third star in the system too, but he couldn’t see it at the moment.  He
could
see New Washington, the smaller and warmer planet inside New Earth’s orbit, in the sky just above the horizon.  It had been the
second
Alliance planet colonized outside the Terran system, America’s statement that they could build one on their own.  While New Earth was the center of
Alliance
activity outside the Terran system, New Washington was the greatest concentration of purely
American
power.  And here he was, an American, standing on New Earth instead.

Jack shook his head and turned away from his study of the sky to see the last of the Cowboys leave the cigar-shaped shuttle.  The hatch closed and the shuttle rose up into the air on silent waves of gravity.  Jack heard the slight hum of the holoprojectors in his uniform come to life, taking the load of giving Betty and Jasmine form from the departing shuttle’s projectors.  He smiled and watched the shuttle rotate to point straight up before flashing into the sky with an acceleration rate only a craft that could control gravity itself could manage.  Jack dropped his eyes again to look at Charles and saw the man frowning up after the shuttle.  Jack walked over and stopped next to his commanding officer.

“Hey Chief.”

Charles took in a deep breath and lowered his gaze to meet Jack’s  “Jester.”  Something in his demeanor suggested that small talk wasn’t on his current to-do list.

As usual, Jack ignored the to-do list.  “Old home week?”

Charles cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes.  “My family has business interests here.  Why?”

Jack shrugged.  “Just wondering if you’re off to visit them?”

Charles shook his head and turned away from Jack.  “Cowboys!” he shouted to all the soldiers on the landing field.  “Be back here in thirty-six hours, ready to fly.  Liberty begins…now.”

The Cowboys shouted a hearty “Oorah!” and turned to walk towards the main terminal not far away.

“No,” Charles said, back in his normal conversational tone.

Jack blinked, taking a second to realize Charles had finally answered his question.  “Why?”

Charles sighed.  “I have something more important to do.”  He looked up after the departing shuttle again, now a pinpoint of light so far up even Jack’s eyes could barely see it.

“Ah.”  Jack smiled, wondering what troubled Charles, but determined to enjoy his first liberty since joining the Cowboys.  “Good call then.  I’m sure you wouldn’t want old Aunt Bessie’s Fruitcake.”


Hell
no!” Charles said, perhaps a little too quickly.

“Well, if you’re interested, you can always go shopping with us,” Jack said with a wave towards Betty and Jasmine.

Charles visibly shuddered.  “No thanks.”

Jack spread his arms out wide in a “how bad could it be?” gesture.  “Come on, man, share the danger?  We’ve flown into certain
death
together.  This can’t
possibly
be that bad…”

Charles shook his head and gave Jack a rare wicked smile.  “Accompanying women on a shopping trip is a fate worse than death.  I will mourn your passing”

Jack held his hands out in a calming gesture.  “Hey, they’re cybers.  No
bags
to carry.”

Charles shook his head again.  “Good luck with that,” he said the wicked grin still solidly in place.

Jack shrugged and turned to walk away.  He stopped cold, a grim feeling coming from somewhere, and spun back to Charles.  “Hey, if something important comes up, call me,” he said in a momentarily sincere tone.

Charles examined him for a moment before nodding.  “Thank you for the offer.  I will keep it in mind.  Now go enjoy your liberty.”

“Yes, sir!” Jack shouted back with a jaunty salute, and turned to amble away, determined to have fun.  He stepped between Betty and Jasmine, reached his arms out to grab each of them around the waist, and hesitated just long enough for them to signal their acceptance before pulling them along with him.  “Come on, girls.  We’ve got some
fun
to track down.”

“Yes, Jack,” they chorused in matching amused tones.

Jack smiled as they strode towards the terminal, determined to project his best party man persona.  “So, seriously girls.
Why
are we going shopping again if we’re trying to have fun?” he asked, just looking for something to say.

Betty smiled and gave his shoulder a light slap.  “It’s called ‘retail therapy,’ Jack.”

Jack rolled his eyes.  “Right.”  Jack did not go shopping.  He never had.  Shopping implied that he might fail.  He went buying.

Betty shook her head.  “I’m serious, Jack.  It’s a very real form of therapy.  There are studies that prove it.”

Jack laughed.  “Let me guess.  Funded by Target?”

Betty and Jasmine echoed his laugh.  “Touché,” they said in unison and the terminal doors opened before them.  The scent of real pine Christmas trees and the sound of Christmas carols greeted them as they walked in.

Jack’s stride faltered for a half second, and he blinked.  He swallowed and shook himself back into action.

“What?” Betty asked, not missing his momentary pause.

Jack cleared his throat.  “My house…smelled and sounded like this every Christmas…before.”  Before the Shang came.  He licked his lips, wondering if it had really only been six months.

Betty squeezed the hand around her waist with her feathery touch.  “I’m sorry.”

Jack cleared his throat again and squeezed her back, gentle enough not to break through her holoform.  “I…don’t worry…I just miss ’em.”

“I know,” Betty whispered.  “Are you good?”

Jack blinked again, took a deep breath, and pushed the feelings of regret and loss away.  He was on liberty.  He was with his best friend in the universe, and with another friend who needed someone to make her feel better.  That did it.  He would
not
drag Jasmine down with his melancholy.  He smiled and felt the party persona come back.  “Nope,” he said with a jaunty stride through the Christmas-themed terminal.  “I’m great!  Let’s party!”

 

 

Five hours and one sunset later, shopping through stores playing Christmas carols, Jack carried the bags and shook his head with a rueful smile.  He really should have known better.

“Something wrong, Jack?” Betty asked with a knowing smile.

Jack snorted as they walked down the street, lined with Christmas lights and wreaths.  “Oh, just wondering how it is I’m stuck carrying bags while shopping with
cybers
.”

“Well,
we
can’t carry them.  And all of these after-Christmas sales are just too good to let go,” Betty said with a shrug that said there was no question about that.

Jack gave her a quick glance.  “And now we know the
real
reason you don’t have avatars,” he said with a deadpan delivery.

Betty laughed.  “Touché.  So what do
you
want to do now?” she asked with a tap of a finger on his shoulder, adding another point to the bad angel competition.

Jack glanced at Jasmine with a smile.  “Well, I’m always up for a good party.”

Jasmine smiled back and looked down at the bags he carried.  She bit her lip and hesitated.  “Drew wasn’t a big partier,” she whispered.

Jack stopped short and examined her carefully, pursing his lips to the side.  “That just means we have to find the right party,” he finally said.

Jasmine’s eyes widened.

Jack smiled.  “Trust me.  I’m an expert at parties.”  He clicked his tongue.  “Drew was a shy one.  That means you don’t want to be the center of attention where we go, right?  You don’t want to stand out?  Afraid you’ll be noticed?”

Jasmine shifted her head to side for a moment before nodding.

Jack turned to Betty.  “We need a night club.  Dark with spotlights.  Good driving beat for dancing.  Crowded.  One of the places where people go to be anybody but themselves.  Anything like that around here?”

Betty smiled and shook her head in a knowing manner.  “There’s a cyberclub two blocks that way,” she said with a wave of her hand.

Jack chuckled, wrapped his arms around the two cybers, and turned to walk them in the direction Betty pointed.  “Trust me, Jasmine, you will
love
a cyberclub.  They have permanent holoprojectors powerful enough that you might as well have a full-scale
avatar
!  You can be anything you want to be there.” He aimed an exaggerated leer at her.  “I’m thinking you’d look
awesome
as one of Santa’s elves and
no one
would know who you are,” he said in a hushed tone.

Jasmine gave him a look that said she was tempted and feeling guilty about being tempted at the same time.  Jack chuckled.  He’d met more than his fair share of girls like that back home.

“It’ll be
amazing
, Jasmine.  The
best
party you’ve ever been to,” he said with a tempting smile.

She chewed her lower lip.  “I’ve not
been
to any parties,” she finally said, chalking up another point towards good angel.  “Unless you count those Peloran celebrations.”

Jack laughed.  “Oh I do
not
count those as parties.  So there you have it!  It’ll be the
best
!  Come on!  Live large!  It’s New Years.  It’s time to do something
new
!” he finished with a shout.

Jasmine shook her head but gave him a smile.  “OK, OK.  I’ll do it,” she said with a laugh.

“Excellent!” Jack exclaimed and strode down the sidewalk with a jaunty step that said he was the luckiest, not to mention the best, man alive.

BOOK: Forge of War (Jack of Harts)
10.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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