Virtues of War (28 page)

The cold touch of metal against her shoulder jerked her from sleep. She gasped and rolled, reaching for her assault rifle. Then she was flying through the air, slammed up against a hard surface. It was the floor, she realized, and as she rolled onto her back she saw a dark form looming over her.

A boot pressed against her chest. Something warm tapped against her throat and she recognized the awful tingling of a charged stun gun. She forced herself to go limp and look up with lucid eyes at the police officer who glared down at her through his visor.

“Don’t make this difficult again,” he said.

“I won’t.” The memory of the previous night was still very clear.

The officer studied her. “What’s your name, and where are you?”

“My name is Lieutenant Katja Andreia Emmes, and I am in a jail cell in the city of Longreach on the planet Earth.”

The stun gun retreated from her neck and the pressure eased on her chest. The police officer stepped back.

“You’re free to go,” he said. “Somebody vouched for you.”

She looked over to the open cell door, wondering which of her superior officers had seen her like this. The police officer signaled back down the corridor, and she recognized the hand gesture as an “advance” order.

Katja tried to tidy herself up, but it was a lost cause. The black dress was torn in three places, scuffed in many others. Her shoes were nowhere to be found. Her hair was a matted mess, and as she tried to pull her fingers through it to straighten it she noticed that all of her knuckles were scraped and stained with dried blood.

She didn’t know what could be more humiliating, until her mystery savior stepped into view.

Storm Banner Leader Günther Freidrich Emmes did not look impressed. He was dressed in his summer tans duty uniform, the crisp shirt and trousers framed by razor-sharp creases and mirror-like black shoes. Three rows of ribbons on his left chest gave subtle recognition to his decades of service, but obvious above them was the miniature clasp of the Cross of Valor. Even if his rank hadn’t been enough to earn the respect of the police, that black-and-silver cross would certainly have earned him an audience.

He stared at her with open contempt. She forced herself to meet his gaze, but her own self-loathing robbed her of any will to fight. Why did it have to be today, of all days, that he arrived?

“I’m sorry,” she heard herself say in Finnish.

“I hope so,” he replied. “I don’t like being met at the skyport by Longreach police, in front of my soldiers.”

“I understand.”

“I doubt you do,” he said. “If you did, you’d never have put yourself in this position. When they told me that my daughter was in jail for drunkenness and assault, I figured it was Merje—but not you, Katja, not you.”

It was about the closest she’d ever heard him come to complimenting her character. She forced her eyes up again to meet his.

“I… I’m having trouble, Father,” she said. “I need help.”

His gaze was stern, but somehow not entirely unsympathetic. “You know where you can get help. What you need to decide first is whether you really are a soldier or not.” He turned to the guard and spoke in English. “This is my daughter, Katja. I will vouch for her good behavior.”

“Come to the front desk.” The officer left the cell and strode down the hallway. Her father turned and followed him. Katja had to move quickly to keep up. The quick, faint slap of her bare feet against the tile made her feel like a naughty child.

In the main lobby, the administration was quick and within ten minutes she was officially released from custody under a bond of guardianship. According to the special rules for veterans, she would not be formally charged for the previous night’s misconduct if she could keep out of trouble for a day. As a highly decorated veteran, Father had officially taken responsibility for her actions.

They descended the broad steps of the police station in silence, entering the hot morning sun as a warm breeze funneled along the street. When they reached the sidewalk her father turned to face her.

“I assume you’re in no condition for lunch.”

She shook her head. The idea of food made her want to retch, and the blazing sun was already making her head pound.

“I’ll endure your sister’s company on my own, then,” he said, “assuming I don’t get another call from the police.”

“You won’t. I’m going home to sleep.”

“I was actually thinking about Merje.”

She felt too sick to even smile, but it was small comfort that no matter what decisions she’d made in her life, she would always rate higher than her sister in their father’s estimation.

“I’m sure she’s behaving well.”

A long moment of silence passed between them. Katja was only too aware of how terrible she looked, barefoot and tattered clothing, next to the upright splendor of her father. She had no doubt he was aware of this contrast too.

“Katja,” he said, “look at me.”

Once again she forced her eyes upward—and once again she was surprised at the lack of disgust in his fierce stare. There was certainly no sympathy, but was there a touch of… understanding?

“I got a call from one of my colleagues, Storm Banner Leader Ciotti.”

Her heart sank.

“He was impressed by you.”

“What?”

Father nodded. “Few officers your age and rank would have had the guts to stand up to him—he’s been terrorizing his own soldiers for years. He didn’t appreciate having your gun in his face, but he respected your resolve.”

“But I was removed from my post because of that incident.”

“And rightly so. We can’t have Astral Force members threatening to kill Army members over routine operations. But your spirit was strong, and in a shooting war that matters far more than regulations.” He gave her an overall, appraising look. “I asked around, and I saw a few reports that were written about you, from the recent troubles. There’s a clear pattern of carelessness, but your courage and ability show potential.”

She stared at him, not sure what to think.

“If you’d gone Army, like you should have, we’d have trained you to think critically before you were forced to lead soldiers into combat. But because you went officer, you’re running like a child into battle and getting too many troopers killed, even though you achieve your goals.”

It always came back to that, didn’t it? If only she’d followed in his footsteps. If only she’d done what he thought was right. If only, if only…

“Well, Father, I am what I am.”

He nodded, the steel hardening behind his eyes. “Yes, and what you are right now is half-naked outside a police station, looking like a whore. You recognize that you need help, and that’s the first step. But before you seek it, Katja Andreia, you have to decide first
who
you are. Are you a servant of the State, or are you really just that silly singer who’s been playing at soldier for ten years?” He paused while that sank in. “Think hard on that, because I don’t want more troopers to die if you make the wrong decision.”

They were only words, but she wanted to lie down on the street and die. She knew she needed to stand up to him, but she couldn’t muster the strength.

Damn him, damn him,
damn him!

“I’ll be here in Longreach for at least a month,” he continued. “I hope you’ve answered that question for yourself before I go.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Go home and clean up.”

With that he turned and walked away. Stray, annoying wisps of her matted hair caught the odd gust, and her bare feet were cold against the ground. Cars and buses rushed past on the street with little sound but the whisk of air in their wake. People on the sidewalk went about their business. A typical weekday on Earth. The war hadn’t touched this place.

All of her experiences, the terror, the pain, the death, were nothing more than a dream here, a tale hinted at on the news channels and already forgotten as domestic concerns took center stage again.

A minor rebellion in the colonies. A week or two of exciting footage and media speculation, but nothing the military couldn’t handle. Oh, there were still political and economic issues to resolve, but qualified people were looking into such matters, and they were nothing for peace-loving citizens of the Terran Union to worry about.

Katja gazed at the stream of self-absorbed faces hurrying past her, listened to the snippets of conversations about utterly mundane issues, and wanted to scream. She wanted to grab the nearest smug civilian and pound him or her into a pulp, make them understand what had really happened out there. She wanted to destroy something, to hurt someone.

It terrified her.

She rummaged through her little purse for the injector in the sealed side pouch. It was too much for her shaking hands, and dropping to her knees she upended the purse onto the sidewalk. She got her fingers around the injector and carefully pressed it into her thigh. A cool wave rushed up through her lymphatic system and the tension eased out of her body. After a few long breaths her fingers stopped shaking enough that she could gather up the spilled contents of her purse.

A public transit station was visible less than a block away, but she knew there’d be trouble if she tried to board with no shoes. Sighing, she flagged down a private cab.

* * *

Katja didn’t know how long she slept, but the sun was low in the sky when she finally lifted her head off the pillow. Her head felt woozy, but the clanging pain was gone and, mercifully, there had been no more nightmares.

She blinked several times and looked around her bedroom. The tattered black dress was on the floor, her earrings not far away. The faint sound of the news wall from the living room momentarily suggested a visitor, but then she remembered turning it on. She’d intended to get changed into pajamas and regroup in front of the screen with a hot tea. Apparently she’d gotten as far as getting undressed before her plan had fallen apart.

She sat up gingerly and, assured of no nausea, put her feet down on the soft floor. She vaguely remembered agreeing to meet with Merje tonight, and she was pretty sure she’d promised to see Jack again too. As she stumbled into the bathroom she smiled: those two in combination might make for an interesting evening.

As always, the shower made her feel better. In clean pajamas she finally made herself some tea and sprawled out on her comfy chair, popping the pills she should have had that morning. They did their usual magic, and one cup of tea later she was actually looking forward to getting out. Dancing sounded like a good idea. It would be a better release for her energy than pounding the shit out of spoiled little rich girls who called her a prostitute.

For this evening, she figured, looking through her minimal wardrobe, maybe she should wear something a little less daring. Young Jack had struggled to keep his eyes up, and as she’d helped him to the cab she was pretty sure his hands hadn’t really “slipped” onto her butt. She didn’t expect anything less from a drunken kid, and in its own way it was kind of flattering.

She just hoped Amanda wasn’t too pissed with him.

Katja chose a top with a high collar and slight sleeves, form-fitting enough but not revealing, and capri pants with sensible dancing shoes. Some fast-acting steroid cream on her knuckles helped to diminish the final evidence of last night’s conclusion. A few minutes on her hair and face, and she inspected herself from all angles in the mirror. Not the least bit slutty, but maybe alluring enough to turn a few heads.

* * *

The downtown core was already thinning out by the time she made her way to Merje’s office. The workweek was officially over, and most businesses shut down a little early for the long weekend, but many office lights were still on as she approached the edifice of Ryan, Ridley, and Day. The same receptionist was still at her desk, but she waved Katja through with a smile.

She jumped a little as she reached the hallway, nearly bumping into someone coming the other way. It was Thomas. He looked slightly disheveled, eyes widening as he saw her.

“Oh, hi, Katja,” he said. “I didn’t know you were coming by today.”

Her heart clenched. Not even the drugs could completely remove the ache she felt every time she saw him. Maybe getting him involved with Merje’s firm was a mistake—she didn’t know how much she could take seeing him on a regular basis.

“Hi,” she answered. “You guys working late again?”

Thomas glanced back down the corridor. “Yeah, yeah. I think we’re making some progress, though.”

“Good. If you need me there, too, just let me know.”

He looked at her strangely, then pulled her out of the rotunda and into the dimness of the corridor.

“Katja…”

He seemed at a loss for words, both his hands grasping her shoulders. The look in his eyes was something she’d never seen before, not even on that one dark night. Her heart beat faster, but she braced her emotional defenses.

“What do you want to say, Thomas?”

“I want to spend more time with you,” he replied. “A lot more. I’ve missed you.”

Her insides churned. Elation that she hadn’t been fooling herself all this time, coupled with anger at everything that had happened since. When she spoke, it was slowly and carefully, to not reveal anything.

“What would your wife think?”

He hesitated. It looked as if he was fighting his own internal battle.

“She doesn’t need to know. And—and it’s okay in her circles. People have affairs all the time.”

Her insides churned anew, but this time with revulsion. She knocked his hands off her.

“Listen to me, Kane,” she gritted. “I am
not
going to be your squeeze toy. For once in your life, show a woman some fucking respect.”

He stared wordlessly, eyes wide. Her words clearly stung him. He dropped his gaze and took a deep breath.

“I do, Katja, I do respect you,” he muttered. “But I’m trapped in a situation that I don’t know how to get out of.”

She wasn’t impressed by this new, fumbling Thomas. She stared him down.

“Tell me this—do you love your wife?”

He stared back, mouth opening slightly.

She waited as long as she could, letting the anger fuel her. When no answer came, she pushed him roughly aside and strode down the corridor, not once looking back.