Broken Soldier (Book One) (4 page)

The poor kid apologized, as tears ran down his face.
“I’m sorry, dad. I know I promised not to cry, but I can’t help it.
I want you to be normal again.”

All three of them were in tears, as Sherry said,
“Sweetie, daddy is normal. He’s still the same man who loves you
and he’s going be able to play with you again. He’ll just do it
differently.”

Up to that point, Mike thought he had a handle on
his emotions. He had cried alone and with Sherry on several
occasions, as he went through recovery. But nothing was as
emotionally painful as seeing his son fall apart. He felt as though
he had let the boy down. On one level, he knew that wasn’t the
case. On another level, he couldn’t avoid feeling guilty about
it.

After four surgeries and many months of physical
therapy, Mike was eased out of the Army. He had enough retirement
points to collect a decent amount when he got older. But, until
then, he and his wife would get by on his disability pay and her
salary.

Sherry had been devastated by the severity of his
wounds. For the first few weeks, whenever she came to see him as he
progressed from one surgery to the next, she openly wept. She had
always been his rock and it seemed so strange to him that, now, he
had to be the one to hold her together. It was so unlike her, yet
so like him to be aware of his responsibility to the family and to
be the rock for her and Wayne. He knew if he showed confidence and
strength, they would follow his lead.

Finally, she told him she felt so sorry for him.
That he was always such a powerful manly man and she knew how that
image was important to him. And now he was in this horrible
condition and it wasn’t going to get any better. He held her in his
arms, albeit painfully and without complaint, as she told him how
much she loved him. She sobbed for a quite a while, but that was
the last time. Once she finally had it out of her system, she
reverted back to the rock he had known for most of their life
together.

Where his physical therapy was concerned, she was as
bad as any drill instructor he had ever seen. There was no stopping
her and she certainly wasn’t about to let him give up, not that he
would. She pushed him hard, never allowing him to get away with
limited exercise.

Once they got back home, in Kentucky, she gave him a
set of chores to do around the house and if he didn’t do them
correctly, she chastised him harshly.

Two years after the disaster in Iraq, she announced,
“It’s time you went back to school and got your degree. You’d been
pecking away at it for years and now you have the time to finish it
up. So, you’re going to get off of your ass and learn some new
skills, Sergeant First Class Hurst.

Three years later, he had two degrees, one in
computer science and one in history. His only reason for getting
the history degree was his love of the subject. Mike was fascinated
by ancient politics and how it affected the various militaries of
the time. But, it was the computer science degree that got him a
decent job at a company that gave vets hiring preference.

While he was never going to be a wiz kid at computer
code, he did have other talents that the Vice-President of
development had recognized, specifically his leadership ability.
Eight months on the job and he received a promotion to supervisor
and a nice raise.

There was some resentment toward him, because other,
younger men and women had been there longer. It didn’t bother him
at all. As a former drill instructor, he knew what it was like to
be hated. These people didn’t really hate him. They were merely
jealous of him and wanted his chair for themselves.

He set about reorganizing the workload. He noticed
that his predecessor had people doing what they did best. He
believed in that; but it was a short term solution to getting the
job done. In the long run, when people left for other jobs or were
promoted out of the department, it left a gap in production. So, he
had people periodically doing procedures that weren’t their strong
suit. There was a lot of gripping about those moves and one guy
went over his head to the VP.

Mike had expected that and had warned the man that
when it happened he shouldn’t be surprised about it. Eventually,
the entire department would be stronger and more flexible for the
cross training and experience these people were receiving.

It took time, but gradually his subordinates began
to appreciate his methods. When a few of them received promotions,
it was proof of his successful approach and each time they thanked
him for the push.

When he was promoted again, it came as big surprise.
He hadn’t sought advancement and when he told his boss that, the
man told him, “Mike, you’re one of the best men I’ve every seen at
guiding people to success. We need a man like you at a higher level
to help some of the younger, upcoming executives to see how it
should be done. Your natural leadership skills are invaluable.”

Sherry was so proud of him and he felt so happy for
her. That promotion was a vindication of her hard work, as well, as
he recovered physically and emotionally from his wounds. The love
they shared went both ways at all times. So when one of them was
happy, it made the other one happy.

That was the year Wayne entered the US Naval
Academy. He wanted to be a marine pilot. Mike teased him about not
going to West Point and pursuing a career in the Army. But he
wasn’t really upset about it. In his eyes, Wayne could do no
wrong.

He and Sherry were so proud of him. He was such a
good and loving son. During his four years at Annapolis, the boy’s
hard study paid off for him. He graduated sixth in his class and
went straight into flight training, down in Pensacola, Fla. Like
Mike, his son was a natural career military man.

Eventually, Wayne found a beautiful girl who had
stolen his heart, as well as Sherry’s and Mike’s. His late wife
often said, “That girl is perfect for Wayne. She accepts being a
Marine’s wife and keeps the home fires burning when he’s on
deployment.”

A few years later, his loving wife, Sherry, was
diagnosed with cervical cancer. She’d put up one hell of a fight
and he was with her every inch of the way. But the damned disease
was too far along, when it was discovered. In spite of all the
improvements of modern medicine, she lost her fight.

Wayne came home on leave and they comforted each
other as best they could. That was the last time he and Wayne had
gone fishing together. The fished, they drank and they cried. Life
could be so good, and yet so cruel, at times.

***

As Mike ruminated over his past life, he realized
that if the Thorian had come along, while Sherry was sick, they
probably could have cured her of cancer. The thought made him
angry, even though it wasn’t the alien’s fault. After all these
years, he still missed his wife terribly and wanted her back. But,
it was not meant to be.

The time for reminiscing was past and he knew it. He
had new legs and a new eye and an alien to deal with. Although it
seemed surreal, he knew this no dream or hallucination. It was time
to face the bizarre truth of his situation.

Mike put his hands on his knees and squeezed. It
hurt, just a little. Still, it was the first real sensation he had
felt there, since he had lost them. He had legs again. Damn.

He was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, as he
began to tear up. That he had fully grown back his legs was
incomprehensible, yet true. He was elated and frightened. It
occurred to him that the alien could always take away his legs and
his left eye, returning him to his former condition. How very cruel
that would be.

When he tried to stand, he found the ache in his
legs became worse, as the extreme gravity put far more weight on
them than they were used to. He would have fallen, if he hadn’t
obtained a good grasp on the metal table. He tried walking around
the table, as he used his hands to support some of his weight. But,
he just didn’t have the strength, not yet anyway.

He heard a clink of heavy metal and his head was
drawn toward the sound. What had been the video screen wall slowly
slid aside, revealing his first glimpse of the Thorian, in the
flesh.

The alien took two steps into the room and spoke, at
least Mike thought he did, because he saw the creatures mouth move
and heard high pitched squawks. Half a second later, the speakers
on Mike’s shoulders announced, “It is a pleasure to meet you,
Sergeant Hurst.”

Mike looked up at the tall being and painfully stood
as tall as he could, before responding. “With all due respect, I’ll
withhold my feelings about you, until I hear what it is you want
from me.”

The pressure on his legs was rapidly causing
increased pain, so Mike sat down on the table.

The alien’s eyes watched him closely, and then they
closed for a moment. The gravity that had been so difficult to deal
with changed to nearly nothing, causing butterflies in Mike’s
stomach.

“I’ve reduced the gravity for now, Sergeant. If you
will follow me, I can offer you a more comfortable seating
arrangement, while we talk.”

It surprised Mike that the Thorian turned his back
on Mike. Was that a deliberate sign of trust, or was the creature
deliberately tempting him? Mike had no intention of turning his
back on any being, human or otherwise. Not without a great deal of
operational experience to develop trust.

He had no idea as to the size of the spacecraft, in
which they rode. Although the overhead was greater than one would
find on a human ship, it seemed small because the passageway was so
narrow. The room he was guided to was his next surprise. It had
carpet and soft, sky blue walls. While the soft lighting and color
scheme put him at ease, he remained suspicious of the alien. He
wasn’t about to be conned by this pleasant environment.

There were four tall chairs around a tall table.
They looked like padded bar stools to him, but at least they had
armrests. The alien said, “Please, Sergeant Hurst, sit down and get
comfortable. I’ll have water and food brought, if you wish.”

Mike replied, “You’ve given me the impression you
were alone. Are there more of you here?”

“No, Sergeant Hurst. This craft has a series of
machines, which provide the necessary items and services to sustain
biologic life forms. Thorians and Saurans are not the only
creatures that this small transport can support.”

As he spoke, a panel in the table opened and a metal
jug along with two cups rose to the height of the tabletop. The
Thorian poured water into both cups and handed one to Mike. He took
it and sipped, finding the water cool and refreshing, just like his
first taste had been.

Mike said, “I see you also drink water. Is that
normal for your people?”

“Yes. You’ll find that many races have a need for
water. Of course, there are some who put additives in it to make it
acceptable for their taste and biologic needs. I’ve heard there is
one race that becomes ill from it.”

Mike took a long drink, empting his cup. He really
was thirsty.

The alien told him, “The regrowth process, demands a
great deal of water. I’m sure you are aware that the human body
consists primarily of water. So, please help yourself to as much
water as you wish. It will help you to gain strength, as the
regrowth process is completed.”

“I am thirsty.” He poured himself another cup full
and asked the Thorian, “Do you have a name. What should I call
you?”

The creature smiled, giving Mike his first glimpse
of the alien’s short white teeth. “Our people live much longer than
humans. We honor our blood ancestors by carrying a full name that
includes all of our parent’s names, going back four generations.
But, like humans, we each have an individual name, or as you would
call it, a first name. My first name is Jonelle.”

Mike quickly followed, “And may I call you
Jonelle?”

Again, the alien smiled. “In the brief time I’ve had
to research humans and their customs, I noted that most of you have
a first name, as my people do. Also I noted that many of you use a
shortened version their first name. On that basis, I would be
willing to accept the name of Jo, as appropriate. And would you be
offended, if I called you Mike? It would make our conversation much
simpler.”

Now it was Mike’s turn to smile, as he answered,
“Yes, Jo, that would be fine. Now, may I ask what you want of
me?”

Jo held his hands up high, smiled and said, “I want
your help in defeating the Saurans, of course. I can’t do it
alone.”

Mike had been taking a sip of water and it went
shooting out of his nose and he began coughing at the alien’s
ridiculous statement.

After clearing his throat, Mike pointed out, “My
people are untold thousands of years behind your people, or the
Saurans. How in hell am I going to be any help?”

“Let me explain.”

“Please do,” Mike shot back.

“Very well. On the Mother Ship, there are machines
that can do amazing things with biological beings, such as you and
me. With genetic modification, your brain can be expanded to handle
several times the processing power it currently has. It can also
make you a good bit stronger, although I haven’t seen the research
on that as yet. I just haven’t had the time.

“That machine can install a biologic communication
device, which can exchange data with an electronic device. It will
be placed at the base of your skull and other areas of your body
will also have small alterations made to make you a better warrior.
We would be able to talk, without these confounded speakers and, if
we wished, without talking.”

Mike shook his head. “Do you mean that our brains
would communicate directly? Could we read each others
thoughts?”

“Yes and no. Our minds would be able to communicate
at phenomenal speeds. There will be circumstances that require
rapid decisions to be made and instant communication would be
essential. Especially, I suspect, in a combat environment. But one
cannot gain access to another’s private thoughts. When this system
was designed, that was the inventor’s greatest fear. So she placed
a mind block that protects the users. It is the only way any of the
races would accept it.”