The Legacy of Earth (Mandate Book 2) (5 page)

“
Okay
! God
dammit
!” Phix squealed, “fucking—”

Reilly leaned her head back and laughed loudly. When she was done, Jazdie and Locke had returned and everyone was staring at her. Reilly said, “You just
won’t
shut-the-fuck-up, will you, Phix? You just can’t help yourself, can you? How did you
ever
work on a government contract? No, never mind, I don’t care.”

Jazdie was suited up with full EVA gear, with the faceplate raised. “Did I miss something?”

Reilly was fuming. She poked Phix in the chest. “Listen to me, you prickly son-of-a-bitch. You’re going to monitor the engines, and the reactor, and our control systems. And if
anything
goes wrong when we encounter that
bastard
out there,” and she pointed toward the bulkhead, “I will personally put you out the airlock with the rest of the trash. It won’t be murder because you can’t kill a little piece of shit, can you?”

Reilly looked around. “I won’t lose any sleep, either. I have no qualms about it. You’re becoming a threat to this crew, endangering out lives. If you don’t step up and get with the program, you might not survive long enough to make it back to port.”

Phix skulked away in the general direction of the engine room, swearing under his breath.

Locke shook his head and smiled as Phix left. “Unbelievable. Now you have
me
worried, captain. And I’m not sure that was such a great idea right at this moment.”

Reilly rolled her eyes. “So, you ready to go, Jazdie?”

“Captain, let me go instead,” Locke said. “I have the training. I can—”

“I know, Locke. You
should
be going. But I need you on the bridge!”

“I’ll be fine!” Jazdie chimed, “I’ve logged dozens of hours in zero gee, helping my dad repair the old dome.”

Reilly’s watch beeped. “That’s it, people, they’re approaching. Get into position.”

Chapter 4
Concerning Fallout

I’m still in shock
. Whatever just happened, my friend, Brad was there. I could tell from his voice that he was seeing something live, not just watching a screen.

I raced home from downtown to find no one home. Cell towers jammed, couldn’t reach anyone—not Mom, Dad, Lena, Brad, or anyone at all. I’m not sure where Brad is now but he seemed to be near ground zero, based on his reaction over the phone. It didn’t sound like he was in Kansas City.

Oh, right . . . tech conference. Said he was in San Jose. We haven’t hung out in a few weeks. That’s the first I’d heard from him since last month.

I went by Lena’s place on the way—no one there, either.

If I wasn’t worried before, I
am
worried now after that strange interview with the recruiter—Ortega. I stopped by my apartment but none of the usual gang—mutual friends on campus—were there. That surprised me. We usually had at least one bum crashed on the couch in our small but friendly apartment.

I headed to the family home. When I arrived, there was a note on the fridge from Dad, saying he was going to the church for a vigil.
Of course
. But I can’t fault him for it, lots of people need him right now. At least I know where he is. As for Howie and Leslie, they could be anywhere, and I’m sure they weren’t in California since neither had any reason to be there. It would still be nice to know they’re okay, though.

The cable news channels were more reliable than the wireless. Looked like the net was taking a hit.

I dropped onto the couch and turned on the TV. Most of the news shows had talking heads going on about the nuke and about US military preparedness and probably retaliation. I guess I should take an interest in that now, even though I’m not supposed to ship out for a few weeks. If Ortega had his way, I’d be
getting busy
right now. But, that’s all changed . . .
hasn’t it?

I don’t know how I feel about being
ordered
to. . . .

Oh man, will I ever be able to get Ortega out of my head? I mean next time. . . .

I felt numb from the shock. Nothing had happened here in Kansas City, but I just couldn’t believe it. They kept showing the mushroom cloud over the bay area. Hundreds of people shot video of it from nearby cities, from highways, from ships. Ground zero seemed to be Palo Alto.

I don’t get it—what’s there? Shouldn’t they hit—I mean, I’m playing the devil’s advocate here, of course—but if you’re going to get in a first strike, wouldn’t you try to cripple a nation with a strategic hit? Like a reactor or the capitol or a significant military base?

It’s like the Ohio meteor all over again. Oh, I remember it alright. I was only three, but it’s all anyone talked about for years. The meteor that leveled a city. It might as well have been a nuke for all the damage it caused—and here we had seen just that today.

This was unbelievable!

San Francisco and San Jose will be hit with fallout. All those tech—

Tech companies!

“Oh, my god, that’s Silicon Valley!” I yelled out loud.

I tried Lena’s number again, no answer—left another voicemail, tried not to sound too anxious. I needed her! It sucks being alone right now. I just might have to go to church to see Dad if I can’t reach anyone tonight. Does that sound terrible? Sorry, Dad, but I’m not in the mood for preaching. That’s a last resort.

The phone rang.

“Lena!”

“No, it’s Mom. How are you, dear?”

“Oh,” I said, disappointed but glad at the same time. “Mom! It’s good to hear your voice. How are you?”

“I’m fine, dear. Just fine. I wanted to make sure you all were okay.”

“Yeah, well Dad is at the church, and I just got here. I heard from Brad, and it sounded like he was in trouble. I’m sure Lena is okay since that was hundreds of—”

“Oh, no, honey. I hope Brad is okay. Look, tell your dad I got hold of Leslie. She’s staying in Paris and she’s fine. Howie is in Anchorage and he’s fine too. And, now you’re good, so. . . .”

“Mom, this is unbelievable. And I just signed up today.”

“
What?
Oh, Dal, I wish you hadn’t done that. Well, I’m
proud
of you, son, but afraid. Doesn’t matter what I do or where I go, I’ll always be your mom. What branch?”

“UNSC.”

“Oh . . .
oh!
”

“What is it, Mom?”

“Oh, honey, uh, nothing, that’s fine, dear. Just surprised. I was expecting you to say army, navy, etcetera.”

“I’m glad you weren’t at Alameda this time, Mom.”

“Me too. Look, I have to go now. I’m at Luna City, and you wouldn’t
believe
how we’re talking right now—it’s not radio! But I’m being recalled. Give my love to your dad.”

“Okay! Will do, Mom! Love you.”

“Love you too, swee—”

The line was cut short.

“That was real time? From the Moon? Whoa,” I said aloud, shaking my head.

The news channel on the TV suddenly went blank. I stared at it, blinking.

Two seconds later, colored bars filled the screen accompanied by a loud buzzing sound that repeated three times, followed by a constant tone.

“Now what?”

A message appeared on the screen: “NATIONAL ALERT” and then “Emergency Action Notification.”

This brought tears to my eyes, kind of hitting me in the face that millions of people in California were dead or dying. It was hard to feel that level of loss, though. Hard to get your head around the numbers.

But, why would there be an alert here in Missouri—this far inland? Were there more nukes?

The message was still on the screen when a voice said, “Please hold for the President of the United States.”

I sat up straight. A knock at the front door diverted my attention. I ran to it.

“Min älskling!”

“Lena! My god, what are you—”

“I just . . . ran here. Didn’t have a car, got tired of being alone, waiting.”

“That was three miles! I must have driven right past you.”

“I know—
jag är trött
.”

“Oh, come inside, quick!” I yanked her in and practically dragged her down the hall.

She felt
so unbelievably good
. A huge smile spread across my face.

I momentarily forgot that the world was going to shit and kissed her and embraced her and ran my hands through her hair and over her shoulders and arms. Taking her all in, making sure she was
real
. I wasn’t groping her, lusting for her. It was all emotional, taking in the reality of her being there. As if I couldn’t trust my sense of reality.

She kissed me back, hard, wrapped a leg around my waist, and shoved me up against the wall. This made me laugh, despite myself.

“Oh, god, Lena, I missed you. So relieved you’re here!”

“The president?” she said, eyes wide, suddenly changing the mood. She dragged me into the living room, catching the president mid-sentence.

“
Vad i knulla?
It’s the
president
, we don’t want to miss this!”

I shook my head. Now, a transition had just taken place, from emotional to physical. I was so turned on by her using that word, I couldn’t think straight. Lena had taught me a little Swedish.

“Knulla,” I said.

I just wanted to take her right then and there on the living room floor. Two months and a religious girlfriend. Do I just enjoy torturing myself? I must be a masochist. Am I a sinner in need of punishment? Maybe I should get a flagellant and start whipping the sin out of myself.

“Jäkla!”

“. . . evacuating Boston and the surrounding suburbs and townships, especially near Cambridge and the M.I.T. campus. Everyone in those areas are urged to leave immediately! Do not pack, just
leave
! We have reason to believe that the university is being targeted by—”

“Wait . . . what the hell are they talking about?” Lena said. “The bay area was hit, not Boston.” I looked at her, momentarily snapping out of my hormone-induced madness. She saw it in my eyes and it caught her by surprise. She smiled slyly and gave me a sharp look but was still distracted by the news.

An aid interrupted the President, whispering into his ear while covering the microphone. The President seemed to turn visibly pale. He turned toward the reporters, mouth gaping, and said, “Ladies and gentlemen . . . please give me a moment,” then turned and walked from the podium.

The crowded room of reporters burst into noisy abandon. One by one, they picked up their phones at roughly the same time and then ran from the building, camera crews rushing to keep up.

“What the hell? This is unreal,” Lena said, leaning heavily on me where I sat on the floor. She sat up to take another sip from a water bottle and was sitting in front of me.

I was so hot and bothered that I was almost going out of my mind. I know it’s insensitive and selfish in a crisis situation, but all this talk of death, images of the mushroom cloud—and
Boston?
—and that heavy kissing a minute ago and the
hot
Swedish swearing. I couldn’t concentrate on anything at all.

Lena leaned back against me. I was wearing tight jeans and a heavy hoodie so she couldn’t feel my predicament.

I had my arms around her waist while she watched the news alert. Her long black hair flowed down her back. I slid my hands down to her hips—my absolutely favorite part of a woman. To make matters worse, she chose that moment to take off her hoodie, tossing it aside on the floor. I was mesmerized by her dark silhouette in the light of the TV. Her breasts filled the simple white t-shirt, stretching it
just so
, which—from behind—caused me to gasp.

Egged on by both testosterone and adrenalin, I leaned forward to take in the aroma of her hair. She leaned back and turned her head slightly, enjoying my closeness and attention. Then I slowly ran my hands up to her waist and under her shirt. She was wearing a soft lace bra.

I fully expected an elbow to the ribs and was prepared to accept the consequences. No, redact that—I wasn’t thinking at all, that was pure instinct. Not an excuse, just what it is. We had been dating for two months, which was an uncertain stage in a relationship with a religious partner. Never mind that my dad was a minister,
she
was the religious one.

She grabbed my hand, turned her head, and kissed me—
hard
!

Her breath was hot and her lips soft and sweet.

“Say it,” I said.

“Say what?”

“That word,” I said.

“
Knulla?
” she said, giggling.

I kissed her lips while they were mid-word.

“Say it again,” I demanded.

“Knul—”

I kissed her harder.

“Damn, that’s so . . . hot.”

She shifted around to look into my eyes and said, softly, “Knulla mig.”

In my state of mind, she could have been speaking Cantonese and I would have gotten the gist of it.

I raised her t-shirt over her head while she shimmied out of her jeans. Moments later I was inside her, on the floor, and a deep moan came unbidden from deep within me.

The secretary of state was watching us from the TV.

Lena came quickly, which was merciful. I lost track of time—blacked out a couple times—only passively aware of program changes on the TV while we made love. It started with a hint of desperation, then we found our stride.

I was eternally thankful that Ortega had not once come into my mind. Little surprise, though, with Lena’s lovely form enveloped around me, our mouths locked as I pulled and stroked her hair. My mind had blanked. For the first time in months, I felt the rare, blissful, blessed peace that a man knows so rarely in life.

“I guess we’re legit now?” she said in a husky voice. “If you just knocked me up, it’ll be triplets.”

I smiled the smile of a starving man who had just finished a five-course meal.

The national alert filled the screen and remained for at least five minutes with a constant beep-hum. I rolled over next to her on the floor. I started to nod off with Lena resting her head on my chest when a voice suddenly broke our reverie.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have an update,” a reporter’s voice suddenly said, breaking the silence and startling both of us. A sky view of a university campus—apparently M.I.T.—was being shot by a helicopter camera crew.

The reporter continued, “Only moments ago, a nuclear device was found and disabled near the M.I.T. campus.”

“Oh, tack Gud!
” Lena whispered, then turned and kissed me, then stopped and burst into tears. “I’m sorry, it’s just that, I’m feeling overwhelmed. . . .”

I stared at the screen, mouth gaping, then came to my senses. “I know how you feel, my . . . uh . . .
ljuvlig tjej
. I can’t process all this stuff. It’s too much all at once.” My Swedish was still a bit short of conversational.