Forge of War (Jack of Harts) (22 page)

They’d barely made it a block when a young kid that couldn’t have been over eight years old walked up to them, dragging a woman who was probably his mother after him, and stopped to look up at them.

“Hey, mister!  Are you a Cowboy?” the kid asked.

Jack smiled.  “Yes I am.”

The kid gave him a serious stare.  “Did you really kill those Chinese alone?”

Jack gave Jasmine a quick glance before answering the kid.  “Yes we did.”

The kid continued to examine Jack with all the intensity that a child could muster.  “Can I be a Cowboy when I grow up?”

Jack looked at his mother and saw her momentary terror.  He smiled and squatted down, all his weight on the balls of his feet, to rest on his heels.  He let go of the bags and held out his hand for the kid to take.  “Hey kiddo.  I’m Jack.  What’s
your
name?”

The kid pulled in a deep, proud breath.  “I’m Brian,” he announced.

“Well, tell you what, Brian.  Study good in school, get good grades, and apply yourself.  If you can get yourself a cyber, contact me and I’ll help you out.”

“Is that what you did?”

Jack looked to see Betty smirking at him.

“Not exactly,” he admitted.

“But we were really scrapping the bottom of the barrel for pilots when we found him,” Betty said.

“Hey!” Jack shouted in an outraged tone, and mentally chalked another point for bad angel.  Or maybe two.

The kid giggled.  “You’re funny.”

Jack cocked his head to the side and smiled.  “We try.”

The kid pulled a holo out of his pocket and it expanded to show a picture of the original twelve Cowboy pilots and their cybers smiling at the camera.  “Can I get an autograph?”

Jack smiled.  “Sure, kiddo.”  He grabbed a pen out of a pocket, placed it in the holo, and signed his name.  The signature appeared in the holo, blazing into existence in a golden flame that burned to black to hover beneath his picture.

“Cool,” the kid exclaimed.  Then he looked up at Jasmine, back to where she stood in the holo, and to her again.  “Where is
your
pilot?” he finally asked.

Jasmine took in a deep breath.  “She died killing the Chinese,” she said in a proud voice.

“Oh,” the kid said and walked over to hug Jasmine.  “I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” Jasmine answered and hugged the kid back.

The kid pulled back and gave her a look far more mature than he had any business making.  “When I grow up, I’m going to be your pilot,” he said with complete confidence.

Jasmine smiled at him.  “As long as you study,” she answered and patted his shoulder.

Jack unfolded himself back up to full height and stepped over to the boy’s mother.  “He sounds determined.”

The mother sighed.  “Five weeks ago, he was determined to be a firefighter.  He even has the helmet on his wall.  Before that, it was a policeman.  Before that, a race car driver.”

“So you don’t think this will stick?” Jack asked.

“I hope it doesn’t,” she answered, her voice desperate.

Jack looked to where the kid and Jasmine continued to talk in low tones.  “I understand.”

“Do you?” she asked, sounding derisive.

Jack gave her a long look before answering.  “I’ve lost a quarter of my squadron in a matter of months.  If this war goes on another year…” He trailed off and shrugged.

The mother’s face fell, and she looked contrite.  “Oh.”

Jack gave her a sad smile.  “Exactly.”

“I really hope he changes his wish,” she said, sounding even more desperate.

Jack sighed.  “So do I.”

Jasmine brought the boy back to his mother, laughing with him over a private joke.  “Brian is a truly precious boy,” she said.

“Yes, he is,” the mother answered and hugged him close.

“Mom!” the boy protested, pushing away from her.

Jack smiled, and an idea hit him.  He pulled the cowboy hat off his head.  “Here kiddo,” he said and placed it on the kid’s head where it fell down to cover his face.

“Thanks!” Brian said in amazement and reached up to grab his new favorite toy.

“Keep it safe,” Jack ordered.

“Yes, sir!”

Jack looked to the mother, standing in shock and fear at his action.  “I really do hope he picks another career, but we should all stand behind him, whatever he chooses.”

The mother blinked, and her mouth trembled, but she nodded and pulled her son in close again, despite his indignant protests.  “Thank you,” she said and walked away, holding her son by the wrist to keep him with her.

“That was real sweet,” Betty said.

“Yeah, sometimes I try,” Jack said with a shrug and turned away.  “Now,
where
was that club again?”

Betty gave him a sly smile and pointed him towards it.

“Excellent,” Jack said, picked the bags up again and smiled.  “Ladies first,” he finished with an elaborate half-bow.

Betty and Jasmine shared a giggle before turning to walk away, hips swaying.  He sauntered after them, a smile on his face as they turned the corner.  Jack felt the dull beat of music in the distance and the foot-stomping bass vibrated from the pavement to his spine.  He moved with the beat and caught up to the two girls with a smile.

“I think we found a live one,” he said between beats.  “You ready?”

Betty just smiled at him.  Yeah.  She was always ready.  He turned to Jasmine.

Jasmine looked down for a moment.  “I think so.”

Jack smiled at her.  “Goin’ as you or doin’ a disguise?”

Jasmine cleared her throat and looked nervous.  “I’ll try me.”

“Good,” Jack whispered.

Jasmine gave him a confused look.  “I thought you said I’d look good as an elf.”

Jack chuckled back.  “I did.  You’d look good as a lot of things, but I think you look best as
you
.”  He shrugged.  “The only question’s whether you’re comfortable with that or not.”

Jasmine stopped and stared at him for several seconds.  As he sometimes did, he wondered if she really was thinking as long as she seemed to be or if she was just acting out what was to her a long consideration.  “I don’t know,” she finally said.  “But I’d like to try.”

Jack nodded in approval.  “And that’s the first step.”  He glanced at Betty and she smiled, grabbed Jasmine by the arm, and pulled her towards the club.  Jack followed in their wake and they moved in rhythm to the music.

The bouncer saw them coming and opened the door for the visiting soldiers without a pause.  They walked in and checked their bags at the desk, the clerk giving him a sympathetic smile.  Jack shrugged with a good-natured smile.  Divested of his burden, he straightened his collars, ran his fingers through his hair, and flowed towards the dance floor with the music.  He turned to Betty and Jasmine, saw them hesitating, and smiled.  He grabbed their hands and pulled, stepping back onto the dance floor.  They merged with the hundreds of dancers on the floor, moved with the music, stepped between strobing lights, and became part of the party celebrating the end of the year.

The shuttle left the gleaming-white
Guardian Light
behind, dropping down towards New Earth under full gravity control.  It amazed Charles how silently the small Peloran shuttle could move.  It was far more silent than any American shuttle he had ever flown in.  Even when it entered the atmosphere it remained utterly silent, the dull roar that usually accompanied that rush of air past the hull absent.  The shuttle slowed to a halt with an effortless pulse of the engines at the last second, and a slight bump passed through to his feet as it made contact with the landing field.

Placing his amazement to the side, Charles rose from his seat, grabbed his white cowboy hat off its hook, and turned to the other Cowboys.  “And we’re here, everybody,” Charles said with a smile.  “Check your uniforms before debarking.  I want everybody looking good out there.”  He placed the cowboy hat on his head and began to wave his soldiers out.

“Oorah,” The Cowboys responded with some chuckles.

Charles double-checked his Dress Whites, pulling a suspicious hair off one sleeve, and watched the Cowboys walk down the aisle.  One cyber after another jumped off her pilot’s shoulder, growing to full size on the way down, and preceded them out.  Charles heard Jack humming the clown car song and the other Cowboys began to laugh.  Charles brought his hand up and bit his finger to keep himself from laughing.

“Shut it, Jester!” Charles shouted after getting his voice most of the way under control.  He then coughed into his white glove to keep it clear.

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

Charles shook his head and waved them out, watching both cybers jump down.  He frowned in thought, wondering what exactly that meant for the future.  Somehow he thought it meant more than the technological superiority that the silent Peloran shuttle betrayed.  He waved the other Cowboys out and followed them, Dorothy jumping down to the deck to lead him out in her Dress Whites.  She looked different in white.  Better.  He pursed his lips, considering exactly how he thought about that.  And wondering what she would think about him thinking that.

He followed her down the ramp, onto the landing field, and turned to look at the gleaming-white shuttle.  The hatch closed, the shuttle rose up on silent gravity, rotated to point straight up, and flashed into the sky with an acceleration rate only a craft that could control gravity itself could manage.  Charles frowned up after the shuttle, his mind considering the Peloran technologies again.  They were always so silent.  He heard the soft hum of the holoprojectors in his uniform that Dorothy was using to stand beside him and pursed his lips again.  Then Jack walked over and stopped next to him.

“Hey Chief.”

Charles took in a deep breath and lowered his gaze to meet Jack’s with a raised eyebrow.  “Jester,” he said in a tone that invited Jack to go on about his way, too much on his mind for more of Jack’s small talk.

As usual, Jack ignored his wishes.  “Old home week?”

Charles cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, the large shipping industry his family ran out of New Earth coming to mind for the first time.  “My family has business interests here,” he said, purposefully holding back any further information.  “Why?”

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

Charles shook his head and turned away from Jack.  The time for woolgathering was over.  “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, and Charles relished the look of confusion on the man’s face.  He did not get to see it as much as he wanted.  “Why?” Jack finally asked.

Charles sighed, considering the shuttle again.  “I have something more important to do.”  He looked up after the departing shuttle again, now a pinpoint of light so far up even his eyes could barely see it.  It was amazing how the Peloran did that so easily.  It would have taken an American shuttle twice as long to make the climb, and it would have been far louder.

“Ah.”  Jack smiled.  “Good call then.  I’m sure you wouldn’t want old Aunt Bessie’s Fruitcake.”

A shiver ran down Charles’ spine.  “Oh
Hell
no!” he said, even though he had no Aunt Bessie.  He had someone similar in the family though, and that was enough to bring him back into the present.  He pulled his mind away from that woman, and the brooding, and returned his concentration to Jack.

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

Charles smiled and allowed a shudder of horror to escape.  “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.  Before he commanded the Cowboys, he had kept a distance from the others because they didn’t trust him.  That had changed after he took command, but command generated a distance of its own.  In this moment though, looking between Jack and his two cybers, the urge to indulge in some good-natured ribbing rose to the fore of his mind.  He gave into it, producing a wicked smile reserved only for the poor and innocent victim of a horrible fate, and opened his mouth.   “Accompanying women on a shopping trip is a fate worse than death.  I will mourn your passing.”

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

Charles shook his head again.  Jack truly had no idea what he was in for.  Charles thought about warning him, but then decided it was best for Jack to learn from experience.  “Good luck with that,” he said the wicked grin still solidly in place.

Jack shrugged and turned to walk away.  He stopped cold and spun back to Charles.  “Hey, if something important comes up, call me,” he said in a very rare-for-him sincere tone.

Charles felt a flicker of surprise at the younger man’s statement, and the look on his face.  He had a feeling.  Charles nodded, accepting the warning it betrayed.  “Thank you for the offer.”  Matters were not as quiet as they appeared.  Charles could feel it too.  “I will keep it in mind.”  But now was not the time to deny his men and women a chance to relax.  “Now go enjoy your liberty,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir!” Jack shouted back with a jaunty salute, and turned to amble away.  The man stepped between Betty and Jasmine, reached his arms out to grab each of them around the waist, pulled them along with him.  “Come on, girls.  We’ve got some
fun
to track down.”

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

Charles shook his head, wondering if Jack truly realized what was happening.  Probably not in words.  He did not seem to be a man who considered the future.  Charles shared a look with Dorothy, catching her amused approval of the situation.  Charles pursed his lips, wondering which members of that trio were the luckiest to be alive.  After a moment, he sighed and wished them all a little more luck.  He had a feeling they would need it.  Then with eyes scanning every ship approaching or leaving the landing field he followed them away from the shuttle’s landing spot.

He walked into the terminal behind them and saw the Christmas decorations filling it from one end to the other, from floor to ceiling.  It truly was an impressive collection of Christmas trees covered in lights, Yule logs burning in fireplaces, and man-sized candy canes hanging from lights.  Santa’s sleigh flew through the air above everybody’s heads, pulled by nine little reindeer, with Santa waving and hohohoing at the people below.  A nativity scene nestled against one wall, just outside the main traffic pattern so it could escape the arriving passengers intact.  And a Christmas carol played from speakers embedded throughout the terminal, bringing tidings of good cheer to the arriving passengers.

“Impressive,” Charles whispered and began to make his way through the crowd of passengers walking out of a boarding ramp connected to another craft.  Dorothy turned and smiled, agreeing with him.  They made their way to the exit, stepped out, and Charles scanned the Christmas-decorated city street before them.  “How do we get there again?”

“That way,” Dorothy said with a wave of her hand.

Charles followed her wave beneath the Christmas lights and wreaths.  They did not speak more than some occasional directions on their way.  Charles had never been one for small talk, and in that way Dorothy matched him perfectly.  She was always there, watching, waiting, ready to help.  She was the perfect partner.  They turned a corner and Charles whistled at the sight before them.  A grand stone cathedral towered into the air above them.  Arches held up the entryway roof that protected the massive wooden doors from the weather.  A cross crowned the peak of the roof, and a massive bell tower reached up into the sky from the side of the building.  It was a truly grand cathedral that reminded him of some of the finest New England churches he’d seen.

As they approached the front door, he saw a small nativity scene off to the side.  As the distance dropped, he realized it was human-scale and gulped as he put the cathedral into its
correct
scale.  “Wow,” he whispered again.  Dorothy smiled again but continued to keep pace with him.  “You are certain this is where he is?” Charles asked.

“Yes,” she answered and cocked her head to the side in amusement.

Charles let out a long breath as they finally reached the steps and walked up them.  The doors opened with the perfect creak of wood on iron hinges that he expected to hear from a building that looked half a millennium old.  That it could not possibly be more than two centuries old was all the more impressive.  Somebody had taken extreme care in crafting this building.  They walked into the grand cathedral and Charles heard his footsteps echo on the smooth stone floor, bouncing off the walls and ceiling far above him.  His eyes scanned up to see the suns shining in through stained glass windows showing scenes from the Bible.  He recognized Noah’s Ark and several scenes with Jesus, but not many of the others.

“Wow,” he said one more time, and his voice echoed through the solemn building.  This was easily a match for any cathedral he’d been to back home.  Not that he had many occasions to go to them, other than marriages and funerals.  He walked to the front of the sanctuary, past row after row of hard wood pews that had to be a pain to sit in.  They looked to be the same pews he remembered from Uncle Theodore’s funeral, the ones that kept him sitting straight up and unable to relax.  He gritted his teeth, assuming that the priests or pastor or whatever liked it that way.  He hadn’t thought John would be one of them though.  He gritted his teeth and sat down in the front pew, looking up at the massive cross on the wall behind the choir stands.  He blinked and looked at Dorothy in surprise.  The pew was perfectly carved, comfortable to sit on.

She smiled at him in amusement again and sat down on his right.  He gritted his teeth, not entirely pleased at the idea of being so amusing to her, but seeing the humor of the situation.

The man Charles had come to see walked into the sanctuary in a simple black suit.  He smiled at Charles with a warm gaze and spread his arms out in a welcoming gesture.  “How can I hel-” he froze in mid sentence, staring at Charles, and recognition filled his eyes.  “Chuck!” he shouted, happiness filling his voice, and rushed forward to wrap Charles up in a bear hug.

“John,” Charles said to his old friend in a strained voice, struggling against the crush of John’s arms.

John released him and stepped back with a smile, turning his attention to Dorothy.  “And who is this vision of beauty you bring with you?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.  “Has someone finally tamed you?”

“I am Dorothy,” Dorothy answered and pointed to the rank pin on her uniform.  “We are partners,” she finished with a smile.

John sighed, projecting disappointment.  “Well, it is still a pleasure to meet you.”  Then he granted her a beaming smile.  “I can’t remember the last time he brought a pretty girl
to
church.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” she returned.

“Easy you old lecher,” Charles said, a hint of the amusement he felt leaking through the gruff warning he was trying to project.

John harrumphed and gave Dorothy a smile of pure innocence.  “I don’t know what he’s told you, but I put aside my youthful indiscretions when I found the Lord.  But He didn’t make me blind,” he finished with a wink.

Dorothy accepted the implied compliment with a nod and a smile.

John returned his attention to Charles and sat down on his left.  “I always hoped I’d see you in here.”

Charles examined him for a few seconds before answering.  “I know.”

John leaned back into the pew with a smile.  “So, since she’s not making an honest man out of you, what brings you here?”

Charles turned to see the amused smile on Dorothy’s face.  He shook his head and sighed before answering.  “Questions.”

John gave him a speculative look.  “We all have questions, but somehow I didn’t expect you coming here with them.”