Operation Chimera (11 page)

At what price, glory?

Emma stood before a full-length mirror, checking to make sure that her dress whites were perfect in every detail. The only real difference from her duty uniform was a knee-length skirt that replaced the trousers. She fidgeted with her lapel, smiling at the lack of medals. Only a tour of duty ribbon for The
Manhattan
sat there. To hell with prestige, at least she made it home. She did what she had to do. The Draxx had been dealt a blow that would take them generations to recover from, and with the help of the Terran Union, it would be unlikely they could present a threat again.

She closed the wardrobe door after adjusting her cap and left her room with the giddy bounce of a schoolgirl in her step. It had been too long since she’d seen her sister, Sarah. A pair of Milsec honor guard stood on either side of the door at the end of the corridor. It was already open, and neither man reacted to her approach. That was their way though. Small children could kick them in the shin and they would stand there, stoic as ever, not flinching.

Inside, chairs were lined up in rows facing a podium. People filled the room: a few other pilots, family, friends, and family of friends. Emma stood up on her toes to wave over the crowd at her father, who stood near the front of the room in conversation with three other men. He didn’t notice her, focused on his words.

She moved to the left to the edge of the room, moving past the periphery of the crowd toward the front. In the first row of chairs, she found Sarah sitting one space from the end, wearing an elaborate dark violet dress with white stockings, pouting at her gloss black shoes. A large blue-butterfly clasp held her long hair off her face. Emma smiled, remembering high school notebooks festooned with doodled butterflies. Sarah had no doubt worn that as a gesture to her. Her little sister didn’t seem too much different than the last time she had seen her. Given the expected length of the mission, it struck her as odd that the girl did not look any older.

“Hey, kiddo.” Emma sat in the last seat.

Sarah looked up, red around the eyes. “Hey.” Her pout deepened.

“War’s over. We won.” Emma winked. “I’m home now.”

“Yeah,” droned Sarah.

Emma held her arms out. “Aren’t you happy to see me? Where’s my hug?”

“I told you not to go.” Sara looked back down, making no move to embrace her sister.

“Oh, come on.” Emma let her arms fall slack. “You can’t still be upset with me.”

Someone in the back of the room burst out sobbing. Emma glanced, unable to find the source in the seated crowd. Sarah did not react. As she turned to look at Sarah again, her eyes caught sight of a large silver box behind the podium; a military casket. The lid was up, yet the person inside was out of sight.

Chills spread through her body. She looked again at all the people, so many of her own family were here. Her breath stalled in her chest. On shaking legs, she stood, and tiptoed past her father to the display. A wisp of black hair drifted into view beyond the bare-steel casket edge, then clasped hands. The left one was obvious in its artificiality; a mortician’s prosthetic.

Tightness squeezed her heart. The sound of Sarah breaking into uncontrollable tears made her turn back. Her father and mother both rushed over, consoling the girl.

Sarah pointed at Emma. “She’s here, she’s standing right there.”

“Oh, Sarah,” said Mother. “Wishing her back isn’t going to change what happened.”

Emma shivered, a slow turn brought her around to face the casket. She leaned over the edge to peer at the face of the deceased, but shot bolt upright in her bunk before she could see.

Aaron jogged down the shuttle boarding ramp, waving at the assembled crowd. Reporters mostly, as well as fans and curiosity seekers, surged against portable barricades as he made his way across the tarmac to a waiting car. No fewer than six women tried to leap the fences just to touch him. At the end of the red carpet, two men in suits greeted him with handshakes and back pats.

“So you’re Commander Vorys? I expected someone older,” said the man on the left.

“After a thousand kills, they decided to promote me. They had to, considering how we kicked the Draxx back under their home rock.”

“Have you considered our offer,” asked the man on the right.

“Do you really think an episodic series will earn more than a full-length feature?” Aaron fell in step with the two suits.

“That all depends on how we market it.” The man on the left did some quick mental math. “We could position the pilot episode as a feature-length production and then split it off into its own series.” He moved his hand across the sky as if tracing words. “Wings of Glory – The Aaron Vorys story”

“That sounds a little hack. How about ‘Hunter Squadron?’ Putting my name in the title seems a bit vain, don’t you think?”

“Vanity is only a sin for the undeserving, Commander.” Right side winked. “Besides, you’ve earned it and that’s where the money is.”

Both men stopped at the end of the carpet, gesturing wide as if to welcome him to the limo.

The driver appeared, a young woman with scraggly blonde hair. She appeared to have been awake for several days straight. Dark spots ringed her eyes, and she sneered at him as she grabbed the door.

“Welcome home, Aaron.”

He blinked. “Allison? What are you doing here?”

She took a small silver inhaler out of the coat pocket of her chauffer’s uniform and waved it at him. “Only job I could get without a pee test.”

“No, I mean what are you doing on Earth.”

Allison Vorys scowled. “Oh, you’re just like Mom. I guess I’m not good enough to set foot on the beloved jewel of the alliance, huh? Never was good enough for her, or Dad either.” The device went to her lips, she inhaled hard. The dour frown melted away to a silly intoxicated grin. The fullness of her street-vagrant aroma washed over him as she exhaled. “S’okay, I don’t need any of you. I’m doin’ okay.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook. “No, Allie, I mean you ran off to a colony. The last I heard, you’d stowed away on a transport bound for who-knows-where. I haven’t seen you in… five years. What the hell happened?”

“Oh like you give a damn.” She evaporated, leaving him holding an empty maroon jacket.

Aaron stared at it for a few minutes, glancing back at the adoring crowd still snapping photos of the war hero. He ducked in to the limo where a boy of about twelve pounced on him as soon as he sat down.

“Sam!” Aaron lifted his scrawny little brother, flipped him over and pinned him to the seat. “Ha ha… I haven’t seen you since you were seven. Damn, you got big. How’s school?”

They horsed around until the boy was out of breath.

“You’re home!” said Sam, hanging on, lost to his hero-worship. “Did you kill a lot of aliens? What did they sound like when they exploded? School’s okay, I got finals in two weeks. Dad’s a little upset at the A-Minus I got in Subatomic Physics, but I talked the teacher into letting me take the test over. I argued an ambiguity in the question.”

“Finals? As in high school? You’re twelve.”

Sam grinned. “I’m almost as smart as you. They skipped me ahead.”

Aaron ruffled his hair. “Pah, you’re a damn genius, I’m just some grunt with wings. Where’s Mom and Dad?” Aaron glanced at the facing seat, empty save for a small card and tiny silver gift box.

Sam shrugged. “Too busy.”

“Yeah…” Aaron picked at a button on the empty jacket. “They always are.”

Liam yawned, leaning against a tree and enjoying the shade it provided. Fingers clawed through a bowl of flavored peanuts, popping them one at a time into his mouth. A few missed, but he did not bother to find them, leaving them for the squirrels. It had been hours and not one twitch moved his fishing pole; but that was beside the point. He had not come out here to catch anything tangible.

“Anythin’ yet?” asked Bob, a set of green-brown overalls and dark blue flannel to his left.

He never quite looked far enough to his side to see a face, but Bob was his fishing buddy every time he came here. “Not yet.”

“Amazing they get the trees to grow on this rock. How long did it take them to terraform it?”

Liam leaned forward with a grunt, removing the pole from the holder and reeling in the line. “How should I know?” He recast it, letting the lure trail through the upper few inches of the stream.

“Did they even put fish in this river?” Bob recast as well.

“Maybe,” said Liam. “I suppose it’s stupid to cast a lure and not even know if there’s anything in there.”

“Well, fishin’ for fish isn’t about the fish. It’s about relaxin’.”

“Yep.”

“Only I figure yer not fishin’ for fish,” said Bob. The brow of a hat shifted. Bob was looking at him, but still had no face. He could have been anyone. “You don’t think them fish bite on replicants, do you?”

A peanut sailed over Liam’s head.

“That’s not…” He sighed. “Well, maybe.”

“What’s her name?”

“Ain’t no
her
, Bob. Just a theoretical her.”

“I see, hence throwin’ your lure in unknown water. Maybe you’re just not fishin’ in the right place.”

“Maybe. Sure is peaceful here though, innit?”

“Yep. Well, at least you got that.”

“What?”

“Peace.”

Liam chuckled, staring at the unmoving reel. “Yeah… At least I got that.”

Zavex walked through a gossamer haze of luminous blue curtains. Loose robe-like garments surrounded him, clasped at the shoulder with a gold pin. Glowing thermpods, lumpy crimson orbs the size of fists, hovered above small sconces around the dim chamber. Their radiant heat provided both warmth as well as light to the Talnurian eye. Niria stood at the far end of the space, hovering by a decorative metal podium above which perched a slab of clear glass, covered with glowing yellow letters in a fancy elongated script.

He approached her, pausing two paces behind. “Sister, do you continue to have these troubling visions?”

The woman turned, her long hair-quills clicked as she moved. Unlike the men, her face was smooth. Grey lines traced over her skin where a male would have ridges, accentuated with silver and gold face-paint. Her low-cut robes showed the beginning of the light grey coloration that many Talnurians had on their chest and abdomen. Her smile warmed his heart, and he bowed his head.