Warzone: Nemesis: A Novel of Mars (51 page)

“What exactly do you do? So far all I’ve heard about your job is
intelligence
.”

“I do analysis of how our command officers fare against their Soviet counterparts and present it to my boss. I also work on a round table think tank, with my specialty being Soviet culture, language studies and politics. My input is received as part of discussions on deciding overall strategies. I have a very high-level security clearance, so I can just about be privy to just about any
company
conversation. I fill out my spare time as an instructor here in Russian language and culture.”

“Analysis of command officers’ performance you say? I’m betting that I was being watched carefully after I went after Kiknadze.”

“I’m not at liberty to say, officially. But personally, don’t you ever think of doing anything like that again!” She sounded like a schoolteacher scolding a student for shooting spit wads, and I laughed a little.

“What’s funny?”

“You sound like my old fourth-grade teacher in grade school when I misbehaved.”

“Well, leaving the end of the week or not, I don’t want to think of you dying out there. Have you ever thought of teaching at the academy full-time? BG Edwards is getting older, and someday he will retire. When he does, there will be an opening for commandant here.”

“So the general has said. The thought entered my mind when you intruded on my chess game in the officers’ club, but…”

“You’re leaving for Mars at the end of the week,” she finished.

“Exactly, I have unfinished business.”

“Do you see an end in sight for this business?”

“Perhaps, but I just became post commander eleven months before leaving Mars. With the post came COL Tkachenko. I feel as if my unfinished business is with him. Who knows, he may get transferred elsewhere, or we may put an end to him.”

“I just hope he doesn’t put an end to you. He’s a very dangerous man.”

“So am I,” I said, trying to convince us both that I believed it. “In any case…”

“I know, you leave for Mars by the end of the week.”

By now this was becoming a joke, and we both laughed. Clearing the dishes from the table, she said, “I have something you just have to see. Being a Soviet culture expert and Russian-born, I have access to some interesting things.”

She retrieved a VHS tape in the living room and popped it into her player. “I know you speak Russian, so sit,” motioning to the couch. She set the tape up and sat close to me. We watched a Russian opera filmed in Moscow for the next hour. I put my arm around her about half way through and she looked at me with those blue eyes. “You’re leaving for Mars by the end of the week.”

“Yes, and I believe you should walk me and my dog to the door before I act very foolishly.”

She frowned. “Will I see you tomorrow night?”

“Yes, how about dinner at the officers’ club, around eighteen hundred?”

“Sure,” and with that she walked me to the door. I was well aware that I was leaving soon. I couldn’t resist taking her into my arms; the smell of her perfume was intoxicating. When we kissed, I felt the struggle within me immediately. Part of me wanted to stay forever, and that other part of me was struggling to
stay the course
.

She saw it too as our eyes met, and she whispered, “Good night.”

I walked Blaze back to my quarters, and took another very hot shower, followed by a cold one for good measure, considering the company I’d kept tonight. The workout was tough, and I’d be hurting very badly tomorrow if I didn’t. Sleep eventually took me, but my last thoughts were of her.

I couldn’t concentrate on my classes at all the next day and avoided COL Red Fangs altogether. I knew that he would recognize the conflict within me, and tease me about it. The day seemed to drag on forever as I watched the clock, waiting for the last class to finish. My aide would be keeping Blaze for the evening. I dressed in the best dress uniform I owned and hurried to the officers’ club. She wasn’t there yet, so I sat down at a table as far from the door as possible for privacy, but where I could still see her come in. She showed up right on time, wearing a white evening dress with silver high heels, her blond hair hanging loosely past her shoulders.
This was going to be real difficult
, I thought. Her swaying walk, bouncing blond hair and the sound of her high heels clicking against the o-club’s floor was chipping away at my will as surely as a stonemason cutting granite with a mallet and chisel. I rose, and pulled her chair back. She smiled sweetly, thanked me and sat down.

“You look absolutely stunning tonight.”

“Thank you. You clean up real nice, too.”

I smiled as I recounted my very serious effort to dress in the very best clothes I had, which in this case was my dress uniform. ASDC dress uniforms were distinctively black, with red trim and cords, and gold rank insignias and buttons. I could have worn civvies, but I honestly didn’t own a civilian suit. I never had an opportunity that required one and blue jeans didn’t seem appropriate that night.

I hardly noticed what I ate, but I knew that we did. We spent the evening telling each other stories of our youth and service. Her parents raised her in the Russian Orthodox Church, and she was a devout Christian. I felt as though my mother would approve of her and wished she were alive tonight to meet her.

“Your family name Pastukhov, is it very common?”

“Yes,
Pastukh
is the root that means shepherd. I am descended from goat and sheep herders. My father’s last name is Pastukhov and mine is a feminine version of it. And your real last name is Bordelon, from the French root name
borde
, meaning farm. Your brother runs the family farm. So shepherd and farmer aren’t that much different.”

“No, not much difference. You have done your homework.”

She spoke, and the conversation rapidly turned to more serious fare.

“You’ve spent your entire career on Mars killing Russians, and yet here you are, having supper with one. Does this feel like a contradiction to you?”

I stopped and thought that over. “I’ve sent money to societies for Bibles for Russia, so I do understand the difference between the Soviet people and enemies. I fight soldiers because my duty dictates it, but the Soviet people aren’t my enemies. I see no contradiction here.”

She smiled. “I think you’ll do, but then, you’re leaving for Mars at the end of the week.”

“Yes. In just two days. I’d already signed up to extend my tour. I’ve just barely started to serve as post commander.”

“When do you think you’ll have fulfilled your obligation to your duty?”

“I honestly don’t know, but I have a feeling it has to do with COL Tkachenko. Who knows, I may be assigned there for “such a time as this”.‏”

She nodded at the reference from the book of “Esther.”

“Yes, sometimes, God appoints people for tasks at a time and place that’s a crossroad. I feel I’m about to step into that crossroad, and my destiny is intertwined with Tkachenko’s.”

She shuddered. “I just want to see you safely back home, and that one is dangerous.”

It was getting harder than ever. I’d already signed up for another four-year tour on Mars. My next leave would be travel time back, two more years and travel time back. I was to leave in two days. I didn’t want to hurt her but couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her.

“I have to tell you. I’d stay here with you for the rest of my life if I had peace about my duty. I’ve never met anyone like you. I just don’t want to sit on the front porch and look at the stars in the evening and wish I were somewhere else. It would be very unfair to ask you to wait for me.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful and that you’ll come back for me. I’ll wait.” Her eyes showed that she honestly would.

“I will, under one condition. If the wait is too hard and you change your mind, just tell me and I’ll release you from your vow. As for me, if I live to return, I’ll marry you; that’s my vow.”

“I won’t ask to be released.”

“But you must agree that you can be released if you feel you can no longer wait.”

“I agree, but I swear if we have to adopt children, I’ll still wait.”

“I’ll be right back.” There was a jukebox, and I wanted to dance with her in any case, just to hold her. I scrolled through the selection and found it.

Perfect
, I thought. I returned back to the table and extended my hand.

“Shall we dance?”

“Yes.”

We moved to the dance floor just as the song I put in started playing. The bittersweet words of the song were as though they were written just for us, from the movie
Romeo and Juliet
.

“A time for us, someday they’ll be,

When chains are torn, by courage born,

Of a love that’s free.

A time when dreams so long denied,

can flourish,

As we unveil the love we now must hide.

A time for us, someday they’ll be

A life worthwhile for you and for me.”

We danced until the song ended. I escorted her to her quarters and kissed her goodnight. Tomorrow night was my last night on Earth. We decided to take a field trip out to the surrounding hills and watch the sunset and the next morning’s sunrise.

The last day of teaching seemed to drag on forever. I went through all of the motions and finally the day was over. My brother had sent more of the shark steaks to the academy, and I’d bought thirty pounds of ribeyes to pack. I had my container of meat, tuna fillets and shark steaks on dry ice and ready to go, but my clothes, tea and other personal effects I would pack in the morning. Slinging my holster over my shoulder, I carried my backpack to meet Katya.

I met Katya at the officers’ club, and she was thrilled see I’d brought my colts. She laughed, her blue eyes shining with excitement. “Now I have a real American cowboy to take me out!”

“Oh these, just in case we run into snakes.”

We loaded up my bike’s saddlebags with some provisions for the evening. I had purposely taken the sidecars off, so that she would have to wrap her arms around me on the trip. We left the box canyon that hosted the Academy and headed west about thirty klicks into the desert. Katya directed me to a hill and motioned me to head to the top. There was a dirt trail up the side with a gradual rise to it, which made it ideal for biking up. I was able to ride all the way to the top and park my bike on the mesa’s flat top. It was only about eighteen thirty, and we had about an hour and a half until sunset.

We busied ourselves with gathering a wood supply before the sun went down. There were plenty of small sticks and deadwood from trees and brush nearby, and an old, dead piñon tree stump provided some pitch pine for a great fire starter. I had brought a small hatchet, a machete, and a cigarette lighter to help with the fire preparation. Making a circle of rocks, I arranged the sticks and wood into a teepee shape and shoved a couple of pine cones and some dead grass under it. Finally, I took my knife and made shavings of the pitch pine for a fire starter. Taking stock of my creation, I surveyed our wood pile and was satisfied it would make a nice fire at sundown.

I had brought a shovel, but I had forgotten to bring a flashlight, a rookie mistake for an Eagle Scout. We were of the opposite sex and trying to use the bathroom in the dark without a light to see by may prove both embarrassing and even dangerous. Quickly surveying my surroundings, I spied a small piñon tree with several branches the right size. I cut four branches about three feet long, and three inches in diameter. With my ax, I split the top nine inches, then again crossways with all four sticks, then pried the splits open and filled it with wood shavings. These would make fine torches for four trips to the mountaintop privy. The sun was beginning to set on the mountain range to the west.

Katya laid out a blanket and unpacked supper. She had some fried chicken, potato salad and apple pie. She teased me about Americans needing to eat apple pie. After praying, we ate and watched the sun slowly slip behind the mountain range. I recognized this scene. It was the same spot where the painting in her quarters was painted. The colors painted by the dying sun seemed to gain intensity and by degree became more colorful, until the sun was behind the mountain range. The clouds on the mountains had a yellow undercoating on the bottom and were fiery red and darkish purple throughout. The breaks in the clouds showed a few fluffy white clouds at the distance, with a bluish purple sky as a backdrop. The purple and red gave yield to dark black clouds higher up. This was truly magnificent. Katya had chosen to bring me here to share this precious gift. The sun finally surrendered and I lit the campfire. I knew that getting too physical alone with her tonight would be a big mistake.

“Some things are best left until a promise is fulfilled,” I said, indicating a need to keep it honorable.

“Good, if I have to wait, so do you.”

With the rising of the moon, we were serenaded by the mournful howl of the coyote, which seemed to be a fitting backdrop for our separation tomorrow. We talked all through the night, and I learned a lot more about the woman I was leaving behind. Katya was Russian-born, and her father was not only an Olympic fencer, but also a Soviet cryptologist. He worked for the Soviet intelligence community before he defected to the United States and started working for the CIA. She was only five when they came to America but she still loved the Russian people. It dawned on me that this was the reason why she had to know that I didn’t actually hate Russians, but was simply a soldier doing my duty. Her singleness at age twenty-seven was why she had time to pursue cultural things like painting and fencing, when other women her age were too busy raising children. I still had one nagging question in the back of my mind.

“Why did you become interested in me?”

She smiled. The flickering firelight illuminated her face and showed how truly beautiful she was. “Well, you know what I do. I have to dig into the backgrounds of each command officer. I have to do security checks, which include your history, military service records and psych evals. Something between the first look at your picture and all the other things I looked at made me want to meet you. You might say I knew you long before I ever met you. Your unit has the lowest rate of transfer requests in the system. There’s a list of pilots trying to transfer in. That speaks well of you. By the way, that young marine sniper has been assigned to you.”