The Lover's Parable Through A Seven World Journey (41 page)

“Soldier farms?” Stephen questioned. “What are you…?”

“Yes, soldier farms. It’s called the Wasp Nest. They breed people out there strictly for the sake of dying in the battles here on Red.”

“No, John. That’s what they were doing on Raw. They…”

“Stephen, listen to me. Think about it. The war’s perpetual. It never ends. Do you really think that they can produce that many soldiers in Basket Town?”

Contemplating John’s words, Stephen sat for a moment in
silence.

“But you say that you know where Golden is?” he asked.

“I do… but not exactly. There’s a handheld computer that Sofia and I brought with us to Raw many years ago. Wherever they took our belongings on that day, you’ll probably find that computer. It had the destination to Raw in it. That’s how we got there.”

“But what about Golden?” Stephen questioned further.

“The cargo bay was full of crates labeled for that planet as well as this one. That ship was supposed to go there, and then, after dropping off Golden’s cargo, it was destined for here…”

“But it never had a chance to make it that far,” Stephen continued. “I need to get the radio.”

“Wait,” Maryanne interrupted. “Are you sure about this,
Stephen?”

Her look of distrust was apparent. John was a man of blood. But Stephen knew that if he were not a willing defector, their whole squad would have been dead long ago. Placing Maryanne’s suspicions aside once again, to her dismay Stephen said to her, “I trust
him.”

Bowing her head in disapproval, Maryanne slipped her hand off the top of his palm and looked away. Sitting up and hobbling to the rear of the vehicle, Stephen unhooked his backpack from the rack, throwing it to the floor. Unzipping its main compartment, he removed the communications device and set it down. Picking up the transceiver, he turned some dials on its face and began an attempt to make contact with his superiors.

“Central, this is Commander Stephen James of Gamma Formation, Red side, under operation Crimson Flow. How copy?”

There was a moment of radio silence during which Stephen glanced at John. He was sitting at the edge of the driver’s seat beside Sofia, waiting impatiently for a response.

After a few seconds, a repeat of his words into the mic resulted in the same outcome, and he began to wonder if they were still operational. With a sigh of frustration, Stephen was about to make one last attempt when a static-riddled voice came through the speaker.

“Commander James, this is Central. Over.”

With a deep sigh of relief, the commander put the microphone to his mouth.

“Central, we have a defecting Sweep agent on board ground transportation heading to air rendezvous. How copy?” After a moment of silence the voice returned, “This is Central. Say again. Over.”

“Central, repeating: we have a defecting Sweep agent on board ground transportation heading to air rendezvous. How copy?”

There was another momentary pause.

“Copy that, Commander. Can you confirm the identity of the prisoner?”

“Affirmative. Confirmation of agent is in process. Standby. Please note: Sweeper is not a prisoner. It is a defecting product, and is in the process of supporting ground recon. Over.”

“Copy that, Commander. Awaiting agent data. Over.”

Unfolding the knife that he removed from his shirt pocket, Stephen held his hand out to John and said, “Come over here.”

John left Sofia’s side, approaching Stephen with cautious suspicion. Maryanne watched him as he knelt down beside the radio.

“Give me your hand,” Stephen said, taking hold of John’s wrist and placing his palm upward, facing it into the tip of his blade.

Looking him in the eyes, Stephen said, “Don’t move. I just need to retrieve something from you.”

With a nod of his head, John felt the blade dig deep into his palm. He could feel the warmth of his blood dripping from his hand onto the floor.

“Hold still. I can feel it, it’s just a little deeper.”

The knife’s metal tip vibrated off of a metallic object hidden beneath the hardened layers of his skin. John understood that he was attempting to recover the security chip placed there during his Sweeper training. As Stephen pried the rice shaped article out, John felt a strange release fall from him, as if a layer of low-level energy had been peeled away from his body.

Wiping it clean, Stephen placed the Identifier into a slot at the side of the com-system and plugged in several codes into the keyboard mounted on the machine’s lower half. Picking up the transceiver, Stephen said, “Central this is Commander James. How copy?”

“Commander, this is Central. Go ahead.”

“Central, data on Sweeper incoming. Over.”

“Copy that.”

Although Maryanne was steaming over his trustfulness of the Sweeper, Stephen understood her position. If John was speaking the truth, they might be able to end the war without much bloodshed. But, if he was deceiving them, as she believed he was, which was very much a possibility considering his apparent indifference to Sofia’s story of the loss of their child, then his trust in John could have a tremendously negative repercussion in their attempts to gain universal control. Times were desperate. He had to make an executive battlefield decision and act accordingly.

Wrapping a dressing around his hand, John returned to his seat up front. Maryanne gave a gestured look at Stephen as if to ask him, “Well, what are we going to do, now?”

After considering his options he drew the mic to his mouth.

“Central I need access to General Montgomery ASAP regarding actual operation target location according to Sweep informant. This is a high priority affair. Over”

The armored transporter rounded the base of the sandy hill just outside the launch area. Three towering machines stood at the ready, surrounded by the scattering of abandoned vehicles left behind by the recon teams in their haste to take to the skies. The numerous scorched, black circles of melted sand, the effects of the blasts of the recently departed airships, were an immense contrast to the red rolling hills and desert that surrounded them. As John made the final approach, a distant, lone individual standing at the foot of the ramp leading up to one of the air transporters waved him
down.

Kneeling between the two front seats, Stephen directed John to their awaiting guide.

“That’s our man,” he said. “We need to get our gear ready. Sofia help Maryanne get the packs by the door.”

Expecting a word of resistance from John, as she assumed that they were leaving for Labor and had no further need of their military accoutrements, Sofia stood up, but waited a moment before vacating her seat. But nothing appeared to be forthcoming from him, as he did not seem to take notice of her. The scab-covered wounds on John’s ear and face, filthy, open to the air and in terrible need of attention, were quite unnoticeable up to now. As they were most befitting of his distancing demeanor, Sofia turned away from him, dropping her chin in disappointment. Stephen stepped aside in order to make room for her to pass by before taking the seat up front. Sofia continued to walk off without saying a word. John’s injuries would have to
wait.

“So, what’s the plan, Commander?” John asked as Stephen took a seat beside him.

“I’m not exactly sure. Command wrote on the com-system that communication wasn’t secure enough. Our orders are with that man down there,” he said, motioning with his eyes to the awaiting soldier.

As Sofia reached the back of the vehicle, she pulled her pack from the hook on the wall. Crawling upon her knees to keep her balance during the turbulent drive, she was about to drag it to the doorway when Maryanne took hold of her by the arm.

“Do you still trust him, Sofia?” she whispered.

Finding it difficult to make eye contact with her due to the forceful nature of her tone, Sofia nodded her head, saying, “I know he’s a little different from the last time I saw him. And I know that you don’t trust him, but…”

“But, nothing,” Maryanne interrupted. “He didn’t even flinch when you mentioned your son to him. I think he’s working against us.”

Lifting her eyes to Maryanne’s was not an easy task, especially while such harsh words against John were falling from her mouth. As one who had a disdain for confrontation, Sofia found it difficult on most occasions to speak her mind, but she was not about to let Maryanne lash out in such a manner.

“No, Mary,” she said. “You’re wrong. I don’t fully understand what he’s been through, and neither do you. But I love him. And, I know deep down inside, John is still the same man he used to be. It may take some time, but he’ll come back.”

She began to turn away, taking up her backpack and leaving the antagonistic woman to her skeptical views, but Maryanne took hold of her shoulder, forcefully restraining Sofia against her will.

“Step outside of your fantasy world, Sofia,” she said with a spiteful whisper, making sure that the men up front were not aware of their conversation. “Take a good look around. You two were living a dream. The world that you built up in the forests of Blue, it wasn’t real… this is real.”

Yanking herself free, Sofia brushed off Maryanne’s hand, saying, “It was real, Mary. As sure as the Savior is real, and as sure as He helped us when we didn’t understand the reality of His being. That home in the forest was real.”

“It wasn’t. You just got lucky finding your way there,” Maryanne snapped.

“Lucky? Mary, how can you say that? We were sent there by…”

“It was just luck,” Maryanne said, shaking her head.

For a moment Sofia was speechless. But the reality of the fact that Maryanne had said the words was settling in. Taking up the shoulder straps of her pack, she said to her, “This war has hardened you. You’re no different than he is. I love you, Mary. You’re like a sister to me. But I won’t stand for you to talk to me like
that.”

Turning back for the last time, with a tearful eye Sofia dragged her baggage away. Maryanne continued to stare at her, expecting her to look back, but she did not. The distinct voices of John and Stephen conversing together were like scalding water poured upon her heart. The war had changed everyone.

As tall as the air vehicles appeared through the front windshield, they seemed to John to have lost their intimidating appeal after his experiences with the skyscrapers in the ruins. Pulling alongside the awaiting deserter, he cut the engine and exited his seat, following Stephen to the rear of their transporter.

The Savior was beating down hot and heavy as the steel door to their armored machine lifted open. Stepping out onto the desert sands, the hum of the idling rockets filling the air, the four passengers made their final exit from the vehicle’s stifling confinement.

The last of the deserters approached them, introducing himself as one Captain Banks, a former high-ranking agent from the Security force on Raw. He was a much more mature appearing gentleman than John would have expected to see committed to such a physically laborious duty as a recon mission. His facial features and age-whitened hair were an obvious distraction from the well-maintained musculature of his body.

Stephen, familiar with the Captain from their past Security details, was apprehensive at first. He questioned Banks as to why, of all the other officers, he was the one chosen to stay behind. The Captain explained that he had volunteered after receiving a security message from Central. He went on to explain that, after he had read the dispatch, he realized that a well experienced leader would be needed to complete the task at hand, and without hesitation he insisted that Stephen step down from his duty as Mission Commander, allowing him to take over. Initially, Stephen seemed at odds with the idea. But after reading the message himself and hearing further details of the rationale of Central’s thinking, he willingly conceded his post. With Mission Command being turned over to Banks, John watched as the two officers shook hands before making his request.

“Would you let me look at the letter?” he asked, but the Captain refused.

“It contains highly sensitive material,” Banks said “I can only divulge its contents to those with a high-level security clearance. But I can tell you that Central did locate your little device. And it has made a huge impact on our plans.”

Motioning to Stephen and Maryanne to follow him, the two operators excused themselves from John and Sofia, accompanying their newly assigned Commander up the ramp of one of the airships for a private chat. John folded his arms and watched them as they disappeared into the transporter’s storage bay. There was something about the Captain that did not sit well with him.

Taking John by the hand, Sofia pulled him to the open door of the transporter, sitting down on the step of the threshold.

“I’ve missed you so much, John. I can’t believe we’ll finally be able to go back to our home,” she said. “I knew this day would come. I prayed for it so often.”

Disconnected from the conversation, John waited impatiently for the return of his newly found superiors.

“Do you look forward to reading again?” Sofia asked.

Hearing her speaking, but unable to keep his attention, he heard the words from her mouth, but did not discern the particulars of her question. He felt like two creatures in a single body: one yearning to be with his wife, the other desiring to push her away. The latter was the victor in the psychological battle.

“Uh, yeah. I mean, no. Not really,” he stuttered.

“Well, I do,” she continued. “I can’t wait to get back to our bed. Do you remember…?”

“No, I don’t, Sofia. I don’t really remember anything,” John snapped. “I know that you can’t understand it. I’m like a dead man inside. I’ve done things that you would not believe… that I wouldn’t want you to believe.”

“I do understand. I really do.”

“No. You don’t,” he yelled, slamming his fist into the side of the ground vehicle’s cabin. “You couldn’t possibly understand. I have something inside of me, tearing at me everyday. It never goes away. Ever.”

Sofia stood up, placing her hand upon his shoulder. She moved closer to him, she longed to be at his side. But he stepped away. It was as if her touch was mere dust as he brushed her aside.

“Don’t do that, please. I can tell you I love you. I know I do. But, I just don’t know what it is to live anymore,” he said.

Backing away, Sofia turned from his face as she tried to hide her emotions. John let his head hit into the cab of the transporter. He was unsuccessfully attempting to relax the anger away.

A witness once more to her sorrow, Maryanne walked out of the airship with Stephen and the Captain just as Sofia turned aside from John. Although she missed the details of their ordeal, in her heart she was glad to finally see Sophia get a glimpse of the Sweeper’s soul. It was apparently just as she had suspected: cold and
hardened.

“You two need to get on that ship,” Stephen said, pointing to the rumbling column of steel waiting to make its departure from the planet. “It’s programmed to take you far below your crash-site home. And with plenty of provisions to get you there comfortably and safely.”

John was leaning against the wheeled vehicle, and Sofia wondered whether or not he was ready to make the trip with her. Lifting his head from the hot, metal plating of the transporter he stared at the Commander in silence.

“Are you ready to leave?” Stephen asked him.

“You’re going to Golden, aren’t you?” John asked to the silence of Stephen and the Captain. “There’s someone there: the cause of all the troubles of the worlds. This is a death-card mission, isn’t it?”

As if they were children caught in a lie, the two officers looked at one another, then back at John.

“It’s
sensitive
data, John,” Captain Banks said. “I can’t say whether you’re right or not.”

“I know that’s what you’re going to do,” John responded. “And I can tell just by looking at the two of you that neither of you were made for the job. It’s not in your eyes.”

“What are you talking about, John?” the Captain asked.

“You know what I’m talking about, Banks,” John said, pointing at him with the fierceness that Sweepers were notorious for.

Sofia could not comprehend what they were arguing about, what it was that John was accusing them of being too incompetent of performing, but she felt the full breadth of rage that had consumed him. She began to understand Maryanne’s fears a little better, as she began to fear him, too.

“There’s no one here incapable of completing the mission,” Banks said. “We’ve all done our time in the field.”

“You were Security, nothing more. You have no idea what
field time
is,” John retorted. “This is a different kind of world.”

Swallowing hard against the dryness of his throat, the Captain adjusted his collar. The Sweeper’s presence was getting to him.

“This isn’t what you’re thinking, John,” the Captain said, with a light glance at Stephen and Maryanne. “There are three targets on that planet. Each one holds a scepter of power. Each one has the same authority to wage war, to destroy absolutely.”

“Now, we don’t have all the specifics,” Banks continued, “But your computer has given us a starting point. By the time we land on Golden, Central will have enough information for us to finish what we need to.”

John was listening intently with a discerning eye upon the men when Banks walked down the ramp, pulling him aside. Quietly setting about with a discussion on the few details that they had concerning the Golden planet, the Captain, although unsuccessful in his endeavor, was careful to avoid letting Sofia in on the
conversation.

The airships beside them were currently stocked for a reconnoitering of the asteroids, he explained. Central was in the process of sending another ship to Golden that he, Stephen, and Maryanne would need to locate once they arrived. It would contain all the necessary items for them to fit in with the culture. Its onboard computer would also have more details for them regarding the whereabouts of the
Three
.

While Banks was still laying out the details of the basics of their plan, John walked over to Sofia before interrupting him with a request.

“Let me go with you,” he asked.

“John,” Sofia said with a startle. “No, don’t do this,” she begged, taking hold of him by the shirt.

“I don’t think we could allow that,” Stephen interjected.

John moved Sofia’s hand away, stepping closer to Stephen. Maryanne slid behind her mate, fearfully peering around his arm at the Sweeper.

“You don’t think you can allow it?” John questioned. “So, you three are going to split up when you get there, is that it? Each one of you will take down a single target each?” he continued, shaking his head in disbelief. “Let the woman stay with Stephen as a team. The Captain and I will work separately. There’s no way you’d be able to pull it off otherwise.”