Forging Zero (85 page)

“My
name is Joe.”

Joe
caught the flicker of a glance between the civilian and Tril.  He tensed.

“Were
you groundmates with a recruit One?  She was in Kihgl’s battalion with you, I
believe.”

“She’s
dead.”

“She’s
alive,” the Ooreiki corrected.  “She was unfortunately permanently crippled,
though, despite our best attempts at rejuvenation.  We fixed her wounds to the
best of our abilities and sent her back to Earth on our fastest ship.  She’s
got a full pension and lives in style, as befits a Congressional hero.”

Joe’s
heart began to hammer.  “You sent Libby home?”

The
Ooreiki smiled.  “It is always much more beneficial to us to send our heroes
back to their home planets so they can serve as examples and recruit more of
their species for the army.  That’s why we’re offering to send you with her.”

I
can go home.
  Joe found it hard to breathe. 
They’re
offering to send me home.

“What
about the others?” he heard himself ask.  “Did you save anyone else?”

The
Ooreiki gave him an apologetic look.  “She had her spine severed by a Jreet’s
ovi, which we caught in time.  She was the only one.  Nothing in the universe
can stop plasma or Jreet poison once it has entered its target.”

Joe
drew a shaky breath.  He had hoped someone had lived, but he had never guessed
it would be Libby.  He was relieved and saddened at the same time.  “Is she
happy on Earth?  She really wanted to be a soldier.”

“Every
recruit says that, but doesn’t really mean it,” the Ooreiki said.  “She’s
relieved to be back, I assure you.”

Joe
swallowed hard.  “And you want to send me back, too.”

“With
full pension and benefits,” the Ooreiki replied.  “Since Earth’s economy is still
adjusting to Congressional trade, Congressional credit is worth more than
ruvmestin.  Considering your record…  You’d live like a king, Zero.”

“Joe.”

The
Ooreiki civilian’s smile broke for an instant, showing a flash of irritation,
but it was quickly smothered.  “Joe.  What do you say?  You can leave the Army
behind forever, never have to lift a weapon again in your life.  It’s entirely
your choice, of course, but it would be in our best interest to make sure you
live in style back on Earth.”  He tilted his head, giving Joe the Ooreiki
version of a wink.  “Good PR, you know?”

Joe
barely heard him.  “You’ll take me to see Libby?” Joe asked.  His heart ached
to explain things to her, to apologize.

The
Ooreiki’s face wrinkled in a broad smile.  “Absolutely.”

Joe’s
pulse was thudding in his ears.  He could see it now.  His return, his mother’s
weeping, Sam’s happy shouts.  They could have fresh bread and fruit and lasagna
and all the other foods he’d gone without for the past year.  He might even be
able to convince Libby not to hate him.  Maybe she could even like him again. 
He doubted any other girl would understand him, after everything they’d been
through.

Joe’s
eye caught on the small bit of red on Commander Tril’s desk.  He remembered his
dad, stepping into the darkness.

Then he
thought of Battlemaster Nebil, hung up on the rack like meat in a butcher’s
shop.  He thought of Elf and Scott and Maggie and Monk.  He thought of Prince
Bagkhal, who owned no Takki, who had dug him from the rubble of the ekhta’s
tower with his own claws.

“No.”

The
Ooreiki civilian’s sudah began to flutter.  “What?”

“No,”
Joe said, turning to the door.  “I’m staying.”

“Wait,”
the civilian snapped, “I’ve already scheduled a ship.  Your account has already
received its first pension payment.  Your family is expecting you.  Here.”  The
civilian popped a small chip into the vidscreen embedded in Overseer Tril’s
desk.  Instantly, his mom’s picture appeared, her face beaming in a smile. 
She’d gotten a new perm and the bags were gone from under her eyes.

“Joe!”
she said, then blushed embarrassedly.  “They say this is gonna get to you, but
I feel kind of stupid talking to a little box.  It’s like two inches tall,
Joe.  It’s so hard to believe it’s—  Anyway, are you really coming home, Joe? 
They say you’re a hero.  Sam can’t wait to see you.  We got a new dog.  A lab. 
Cute little chocolate thing.  Named it Harry, after Dad.  Oh, Joe, I’m so
excited you’re coming home!  I just wish your father could be here to see it. 
We had a service for him a week after you left.  Mom came down with Aunt
Caroline.  They made a collage of his time in the Marines that was really
nice.  Sam—”

“I told
you no,” Joe said, cutting off the rest of the feed himself.  The civilian
seemed startled that he knew how to do so, but quickly recovered.

“We
have everything arranged, Zero.  All you have to do is climb on the ship. 
You’re a Congressional hero.  We treat our heroes like kings.”

Joe was
still scowling at the vidscreen.  “Can you send a message for me, like you did
with my mom?”

The
civilian blinked at him, and it was Tril who said, “Of course.”

“Good. 
I want to tell Libby I’m sorry.  I disappointed her.  I almost got her killed. 
She probably went back to Earth because she hates me.  To get away from me.  I
don’t blame her, but there was a mistake.  She didn’t understand.  Tell her I
couldn’t move.”

“Excuse
me?”

“Tell
her I couldn’t move.  When Zol’jib had me beside him, he’d used some drug on
me.  Paralyzed me.  She’ll understand.”

The
civilian glanced at Tril, who nodded.

“I
always thought Libby’d be the last of any of us to go back willingly.”  Joe
stared at his feet, wondering how it turned out this way, why he couldn’t just
let them take him home.  He tried to find the desire to tell the Ooreiki he’d
changed his mind, but it wouldn’t come.  “I guess if she was crippled,
though…”  He glanced at the Ooreiki anxiously.  “Was it bad?”

“She
can’t use her legs.”

“Oh,”
Joe whispered, not sure what to say.  He took a deep breath, then let it out
through his teeth, trying to imagine Libby without being able to kick something
in the head if it looked at her funny.  The thought brought tears to his eyes,
which he quickly wiped away.  “Tell her it should’ve been me, okay?  And that
she was the better Congie.”

The
Ooreiki civilian’s sticky eyes sharpened.  “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing,”
Joe said softly.  “Just that she was right.  I didn’t try hard enough, and I
got everybody killed.  I should’ve paid more attention in class, listened more…” 
He took a shuddering breath and looked away before that train of thought
slammed him right back to those wretched, miserably lonely weeks after Bagkhal
had dug him from Na’leen’s command center.  It had taken him almost nine
rotations to get to the point where the simple thought of losing everyone
didn’t make him a weeping wreck.  Clearing his throat, he said, “Can you tell
my mom I’m sorry?  She won’t understand, but I can’t come back.  I can’t leave
the Army.  I’m a Congie, now.  I just wish—”  Joe took a deep breath, closing his
eyes.  “Is there much more on that tape?”

“Kkee,”
the civilian replied.  “At least thirty-six tics.”

“Can I
have it?”

The
Ooreiki nodded, looking a bit stunned.

“Thanks.” 
Joe took the chip and turned to go.

“Zero. 
Stay for a moment.”

Joe
turned to glance at Overseer Tril.  The civilian gave him one long look, then
brushed past him on the way out the door.

“Here,”
Tril said, holding an object out to him. 

Joe
took it, staring down at the red surface uncomprehendingly.  His fingers
recognized it before anything else, and his breath left him.  “Dad’s knife.” 
It was scraped and battered from the collapse of the barracks, but still
functioning.  His fingertips automatically found the patches he had worn smooth
over his long, homesick nights and he felt a wave of relief so strong it left
him dizzy.  “I thought I’d lost it.”

“Peacemakers
found it and recognized it as an Earth artifact.  They were going to have it
destroyed, but I figured you’d get more use out of it.”

Joe
nodded, speechless with gratitude.    

“And
here.”  Tril handed Joe Kihgl’s
kasja.
  The golden markings on it glowed
with Celtic beauty.  At Joe’s stunned look, he said, “If they ask, it’s
Nebil’s, not Kihgl’s.  They survived Ubashin together.  But, even if it were
Nebil’s, he wouldn’t object.  Nebil thought you were his best student.”

Joe
took Kihgl’s
kasja
gingerly.  “He did?”  His throat felt tight.  His
vision was blurring.  Joe wiped his eyes viciously.

“He
wanted you to have battlemaster from the beginning.  I told him no.  He gave it
to you anyway.  Twice.  He was a Prime once, you know.  Once they get that
eighth point, there’s no going back.  It was Hell having him under my command.”

Joe
stared down at the
kasja
and nodded, overwhelmed.

Tril’s
eyes caught on Joe’s sleeves, now fully extended down to the cuffs.  Joe had
lost battlemaster over the episode.  Again.

“I’ll
inform your commander you can wear your uniform any way you like from now on. 
Congress
does
appreciate its heroes, Zero.”

Joe
could not speak.

A long
silence hung between them.  Then, Tril said, “You made the right decision.”

“I
know,” Joe whispered.

Tril’s
sudah gave a surprised flutter.  “You do?”

Joe
nodded and somehow found his voice.  “I’m like my dad.  He was a Marine before
he—died.”  He felt his vision blurring again and did nothing to stop it.  “I’ve
got a new groundteam.  Not like my old one, but they survived the war and
they’re pretty smart.  They need me, too.  Most of them lost everyone when the
Huouyt blew up the barracks.  I can’t leave them.  I can’t leave the Army.” 

Joe
glanced down at his knife and forced himself to laugh.  “Besides, I’m not about
to go through a whole turn of this soot not to graduate.”

“You’ll
graduate,” Tril assured him.  “They’ve lost too many soldiers not to graduate
even their most…problematic…recruits.”

“Thanks,”
Joe said.  “For everything.”

Tril
nodded once.  “Good luck, Zero.”

CHAPTER
41: 
The Congie

Joe
graduated, as Tril predicted.  The ceremony was a full regiment formation where
every battlemaster went down the lines to give each recruit a circle and
personal congratulations, along with the first alien recognition of their real
names since the Draft.

Joe was
one of the ninety recruit battlemasters who got their ranks from the Prime
Commander himself.  Along with their circles, the new soldiers got warnings
that depended on how they had managed their recruits during the last two
turns.  “Battle is not a game to brag about, Pete,” the Prime said to the boy
three ranks down from Joe.  “You’re still soft.  You’ll learn that when you
face a real foe.”  Only then did he place the ranking device against the
recruit’s chest.  When he reached the next one, he said the same thing.  “Your
training’s not over, Jessica.  You’re soldiers now, but you aren’t Congies
until friends die under your command.”  The girl beside Joe received a similar
warning.  “Spend more time talking with your platoon, Mary.  Get to know them. 
Sometimes saving lives must override strategy.  Once you leave here, their
deaths are always on your conscience.”  The girl in question blushed and looked
at her feet, for it had been she who had intentionally killed her entire
platoon to retrieve the last flag.

When
Prime Commander Weriik stopped at Joe, the drooping-skinned Ooreiki took a long
breath and said, “Joe, no one has lost battlemaster so many times, only to get
it back a few weeks later.  You are the most frustrating, yet uniquely talented
recruit I’ve ever seen.  Sometimes I think you should’ve been graduated a turn
ago, and sometimes I think a hundred turns won’t be enough.  You—”

A deep,
gravelly Dhasha voice interrupted the Ooreiki.  “I’ll graduate this recruit, if
you don’t mind, Commander.”

Joe’s
breath caught in his lungs.  Prince Bagkhal was on the plaza, moving towards
them.  He was the first Dhasha they’d seen since the Training Committee had
called him to Koliinaat to testify against the Huouyt, the testimony of which
had officially removed the Huouyt from their Tribunal seat, ending the 1293
^rd
Age of the Huouyt.

…And
ushering in the 215
^th
Age of the Dhasha.

While
on Kophat, you will enter Congress into a new Age…

Fighting
goosebumps, Joe forced himself to look straight ahead.

Prime
Commander Weriik bowed low and moved to one side, allowing Bagkhal to step in
front of Joe.  He stopped several feet back, a courtesy so Joe didn’t have to
stare at endless rows of triangular black teeth.  “I see you made it.”  His
voice was like a liquid rumble that made the gravel at Joe’s feet shudder. 
“You have no idea how much that pleases me.  Congratulations, Joe.  I’m sorry I
wasn’t here to see you train.  I’m sure I missed quite a show.  Rank him, if
you will.”