Portal Wars 1: Gehenna Dawn (20 page)

“No, not really.”

There was exhaustion in his voice, and
disillusionment. He’d been like this before, but this was the worst
she’d ever seen him. She laid her face against his shoulder and
listened quietly.

“But it feels different. He was just like a
thousand kids I’ve watched die. They all hurt.” He paused again.
“But this isn’t the same. I think maybe every man has his limit.
Watching every one of these boys die takes away a part of your
soul. Maybe mine is just empty.”

She knew he didn’t really want to discuss
things…he just wanted to let it out. There was nothing she could
say that was going to make him feel better anyway, so she just
listened, running her hand gently across his bare back. He always
liked that…it relaxed him.

“Every man has his limit,” he repeated. “I
should have died a long time ago, Hope.” His voice sounded
distracted, far away…as if he was lost in old memories. “It would
have been a mercy.”

“Don’t say that, Jake.” Her voice was
soft…and a little sad. She didn’t like seeing him suffer
so…watching him punish himself. “You know better than anyone how
many boys you’ve saved. If you’d had died yourself, none of them
would have survived either.”

“Maybe.” He sounded unconvinced. “But most of
them died anyway…just a month later, or a year later.” Another
pause. “And maybe they were the lucky ones. I’ve only prolonged the
suffering for the men I saved.”

He looked down, staring at the stark
whiteness of the bedcovering. “I’m going to quit, Hope.” His voice
was deadpan, utterly serious. “I’m going to tell them to take this
stupid war and shove it up their asses.”

She felt the tension in the pit of her
stomach. If Taylor refused his duty they would take him away. If he
continued to resist, they would shoot him. She was afraid of what
might happen…and terrified of losing him. She had no more illusions
about their relationship than he did, but she knew she needed him.
She had lost a life and a family just as he had. Now she was
consigned to spend the rest of her life as a sex worker on the most
miserable hell man had ever found. Her visits with Jake were the
only thing she cared about. They sustained her. Thinking of the
next time she’d see him carried her through her days. It made her
want to live. She didn’t think of it as love…she didn’t even know
if such a thing was possible someplace like Erastus. But he was a
kindred spirit of sorts and, for two lost souls, that was
enough.

“Jake, you can’t.” There was a touch of
desperation in her voice, a need to convince him, to pull him back
from the brink. “I understand how you feel, but they’ll shoot
you.”

He almost smiled. “Would that be so bad?
Quick, almost painless.”

“Yes, it would be bad.” She was speaking
louder, almost yelling. “You’re not thinking clearly right now. And
what about me? What about your friends? Your men? Think about all
of us before you do something stupid and reckless.” She was forcing
back a sob as she spoke. “We need you.”

He was quiet for a few seconds, looking up at
her, reaching his hand out and taking hers. “You’re right.” His
tone was soft, almost apologetic. “I’m just frustrated.”

She didn’t say anything, but she wasn’t
convinced. It was a lot more than frustration; that was obvious.
She knew Jake needed her help, but she didn’t know what to do, how
to reach him. She smiled at him, but inside she was scared to
death.

She watched him get dressed, and she kissed
him goodbye before he left. She heard the click of the door closing
behind him. Then the tears came.

From the Journal of Jake Taylor:

I have too much time to think. When
you are young, your mind wants to believe in things. Belief is a
powerful force. It can sustain a person through grueling trials and
agonizing torment. It can also cloud judgment, lead even an
intelligent person to accept and passionately defend the worst sort
of nonsense. Some of the most amazing things in history were driven
by belief…and some of the most horrific calamities as well. I’d
like to say I think belief is a good force more often than a bad
one. I’d like to say that, but I can’t.

I believed when I was younger. I
looked past the things that seemed needlessly hurtful, tried to
understand why things were done to me, to my loved ones. I accepted
the rules and regulations…and the heavy taxes and levies that
barely left us what we needed to get by…and sometimes not enough. I
didn’t question anything I was told, not seriously at least. There
were people with less, people UN Central was struggling to help.
The war against the Tegeri was raging too, and that struggle was
funded by Earth’s citizens. I believed, as I was told, that it was
unpatriotic to question any of it.

Even when I was taken from my family
and sent to Erastus I still believed. I was bitter and heartbroken
certainly, but I told myself I was fighting to defend hearth and
home…my family and friends and billions more like them. I was doing
the ultimate duty as a citizen.

The restrictions, the regulations,
the monitor installed in our home…I believed it was all necessary.
UN Central had eliminated war on Earth; it had thwarted terrorism.
All the terrible things mankind endured throughout history. Why
would anyone question their motives?

I wonder now how I was so stupid, so
blind. For ten years I’ve seen the arrogance of the UN personnel
sent here on limited tours. I’ve seen the contempt they feel for
those of us consigned here…the ones without influence or patronage.
They see us as pieces of equipment they use and discard…nothing
more. Any organization that produces such people is rotten…unworthy
of belief, of faith.

They enlist us for life, denying us
return trips to Earth, even if we survive five or ten years in this
hell. They blame the cost, say the energy to transport us back
would be too expensive. I believed that once, but now I feel like a
fool for it. The few miserable wrecks of men who survive a five
year enlistment…how much could it cost to send them home? When I
think about it, I am amazed at how little it takes to get people to
believe, to throw away their judgment, their intelligence, and
blindly follow their masters’ orders.

It has nothing to do with energy.
They’ve transported hundreds of times my body weight in food and
ammunition just to sustain me over the last ten years. Yet I am
consigned to die on this miserable rock because it is prohibitively
expensive to send me home? How could I have been such a fool to
believe nonsense like that? How could all of us have
been?

The truth is, they don’t want us
back on Earth. Trained killers who’ve lived for years outside the
normal Earth routine of constant surveillance. That’s why they
don’t let us go home. I figured out part of that a while back, but
now I realize the whole truth. They are afraid of my brethren and
me, even as they need us to fight their wars. It is from stuff such
as us that revolutions are made.

I know I shouldn’t be writing these
things. Blackie would tell me to stop, that it wasn’t safe. I know
that’s true, but I don’t care. I just don’t care. Let them come…let
them take me away. Let them come and destroy the perfect little
soldier they spent so much to build. But they better bring a lot of
force with them when they come. Because I am the killing machine
they created, and I won’t go down without a fight.

“I said I’m done.” Taylor sat calmly in the
soft leather chair. He was a little surprised to be in a fancy
office and not in shackles in some prison cell, but he didn’t let
it show. “I’ve given you enough…more than any of you deserve.”
Taylor had told his story twice already, first to his immediate
superior and then to General Hammon, commander of UNFE. Now he was
in the office of the man who’d recruited him into the Supersoldier
program.

Gregor Kazan was angry, but he was hiding
that as well as Taylor was concealing his surprise. He felt it was
beneath him to argue and negotiate with a soldier…even a war hero
carrying the rank of major. But he didn’t need this shit right now.
He would be confirmed as Undersecretary in another two months, and
the success of the Supersoldier project was the primary reason.
Bringing up the first participant of the program on desertion
charges would be disastrous. It would delay the vote, at least…and
very possibly cost him the promotion. And he wasn’t about to let
that happen. Whatever he had to do.

“Major Taylor, I understand that your
experiences in battle have been - how shall I put it? - troubling.”
He looked over at Taylor, his manufactured expression one of
sympathy, of understanding.

Jake knew it was fake, every bit of it…but he
couldn’t help but admire the skill it must have taken Kazan to look
so sincere when he was so full of shit. If nothing else, a career
in government teaches you to lie like a pro, he thought. “I am not
troubled, Mr. Kazan.” He stared at the UN functionary with an
emotionless expression on his face. “I am simply done.”

Kazan felt the rage surging through his body,
but he clamped down on it. He’d only been on Erastus to make a
display of how closely he was watching the program…a little theater
preceding the confirmation vote. Now, he realized how fortuitous it
was for him to be here when Taylor decided to have his
meltdown.

“Major, you know better than anyone that the
army does not function in that way. Your service, as much as it is
appreciated, is not optional. You voluntarily enlisted and, in
doing so, you agreed to abide by the regulations and
responsibilities of the service.”

“Voluntarily?” Taylor spat the word. “You
think my enlistment was voluntary?” He glared across the desk.

“Indeed I do, Major Taylor.” Kazan returned
the stare. “My records indicate that the Revenue Department forgave
a massive underpayment of taxes in return for your agreeing to
serve.” His eyes narrowed, boring into Jake’s. “I believe that was
very fair. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been necessary if your family
had met its obligations.”

“We almost starved that year, Mr. Kazan.”
Taylor was determined to suppress his anger, but he was starting to
lose his hold on it. “How do you imagine we could have paid the
taxes?”

Kazan took a breath and shifted in his seat.
“Do you suppose the government’s obligations disappear because of
your family’s financial mismanagement? Does the war cease? Do the
soldiers on the front no longer require food and weapons?” His
voice was becoming sharper…not angry, at least not yet…but the
tension was showing. “I do not propose to rehash the facts
surrounding your enlistment, Major, nor debate UN policies. You
agreed to the terms of service, and your government requires you to
comply.” He paused, eyes still fixed on Taylor. “Now return to your
unit, Major. Because of your war record, I will see to it that this
unfortunate incident is forgotten.”

“No.” Taylor just sat where he was, not
uttering another word.

“Major Taylor, I don’t think you understand
me. If you reject my offer, you will be arrested, court-martialed
for desertion and, in all likelihood, executed.” Kazan’s anger was
showing now, and his shock as well. “Do you understand?”

My God, Taylor thought…the miserable little
prick actually thinks he’s being generous. “I understand, Mr.
Kazan.” Taylor paused, just for emphasis. “I simply don’t
care.”

Kazan could feel his hands curling into
fists. Taylor was calling his bluff. He thought for a minute,
wondering if there was a way he could endure Taylor’s downfall
without risking his appointment. He’d love nothing more than to see
the arrogant piece of shit dragged from his office in chains. But
there was no way. The first participant of the program? A hero of
Taylor’s stature? It would cast doubt on the entire project…and on
his supervision. It would be a devastating blow.

“Major Taylor, whatever opinions you may have
developed toward UN Central or UNFE, surely you understand the
importance of the war effort.” Kazan was trying another approach.
“We must defend Earth against the alien threat.”

Taylor hesitated. Kazan had hit a weakness.
Whatever sins UN Central may have committed, he still felt a
responsibility to the civilians back on Earth. “Yes, Mr. Kazan. I
agree. However, I have served ten years. I have done my duty. Far
more than others have.” He didn’t say anything further, but he
glared right at Kazan.

“Major, you may feel that what you have done
is enough, but that is not your decision.” Kazan’s voice was
getting colder. “Now, I am going to tell you this one last time.
Return to duty immediately, and we will forget this
conversation.”

Taylor almost smiled. What a lying piece of
shit, he thought…does this imbecile really think I believe anything
he is saying? Taylor knew Kazan wouldn’t forget…he wouldn’t forget
anything. He’d wait, pick some time when it was less politically
damaging. But Taylor knew one day Kazan would come for him. The die
was cast. He had crossed his own Rubicon.

“Tell me, Mr. Kazan…” Taylor’s tone became
darker, more threatening. “…why are we enlisted for life? And
please don’t tell me it’s the energy needed to transport us back.
Because that is the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

Kazan was almost apoplectic with rage, but he
still managed to hold most of it in check. “Major Taylor, I can
assure you that everything you have been told about UN policy is
the absolute truth.”

Taylor snorted derisively. “Spare me, Mr.
Kazan. I am not the stupid, inexperienced fool you drafted and sent
here to die.” Jake’s tone was icy, like death itself. “Do you think
I really don’t know why you don’t want any veterans returning
home?”