Swan Song (Book Three of the Icarus Trilogy) (48 page)

"No," he started, but Darius interrupted him this time and shouted into his face, centimeters away.

"Yes, Carver!  We owe it to them.  They gave themselves to this revolution and this victory.  We might hate the rest of our lives, we might want to rue the day that we ever signed up for this shit, but we're in it, now.  We're not getting out."

"Our lives don't belong to us, John," Templeton said as he lowered his comrade and pointed at the serene corpse lying on the medical table.

"They belong to his dream."

-

"I'm not sure what to say," Douglas said as tears fell from his ruined eyes.  When he had heard the news he had fully dissolved into his sorrow, striking out at everything within range.  Although they had won, it had come at a terrible price.  The blind man's hero had fallen, an unknown assassin taking him from the world.  The EFI and even EOSF had searched for the mystery woman, but both the assassin and James Kaspar had disappeared in the confusion.

The general assumption was that Kaspar had been killed.

"We've lost someone so ... important.  Ryan Jenkins gave everything that he was for the chance for us to be free.  He lived and died for us six times," Douglas stated into the microphone, trying to keep his composure.  "That's more than most, my friends.  He was willing to throw his life away so many times so that we could live without the yoke of the Trade Union."

"He succeeded," Douglas said as he choked back tears.  He wished that he could have seen it; he wished he would have been there to see the messiah triumphant.  Maybe, maybe if he had been there he would have been able to stop it.  Douglas might have been able to jump in front of the bullet, at least.

"The Trade Union will stand no longer.  Jonathon Carver will see to that.  Darius Templeton will see to that.  These men will lead us among the shadows and guide us to the world that Ryan Jenkins was fighting for.  There have been far too many sacrifices for us to turn back, now, but I think..."

"You're fine, Doug," a soft voice said from the other side of the table.  He usually didn't have an audience, but Douglas was grateful that Abrams decided to sit with him.  The storyteller reached out his hand and felt the warmth coming from the woman's fingers.  She was a harsh woman, but she did have a soft side.  He smiled as he realized that she would be able to show it more often, now.

"I think," he continued, regaining his announcer's voice and feeling the inspiration that he was about to impart on his listeners.  "I think we can take a moment to remember our fallen heroes.  I think we can take the time to comfort each other and see the people we loved, if only in our mind," Douglas said, imagining how it had been to be part of this revolution; to see history in the making.

"There is an old poem that I'm sure some of you know, and there have been a few different versions of it, but the first line is something I always liked.  'Sing, O goddess, the anger of
Achilles
son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans,'" Douglas quoted from memory, his education useful once more.  "Like I said, there have been a number of different versions, but forgive me for trying to follow in that poet's footsteps."

"Sing, O Goddess, the anger of Ryan Jenkins, the man who brought the Trade Union to its knees."

________________________________________________________________________

"Oi!  Don't you dare!"

Jessica looked over from the sink and saw Edward holding the infant at arm's length, a look of disapproval on his face.  The young boy seemed unaffected by the statement, burping before looking back at his mother.

"He'll spit up if he wants to, Ed," Jessica said as she turned back to the sink, washing the dishes from lunch.  Abrams had just made a few sandwiches, but somehow Norris had found a way to make the plates dirty.  As she scrubbed the plate clean, she looked at the scar on her right elbow.  The nerve reconstruction had only left a small scar where the doctors had cut into the flesh, but now she was able to use it like it had never been ruined.  She smiled as she set the plate in the drying rack and then walked over to the former sniper.

"Look, girlie, we're catching this early.  This son of mine is going to respect his father," Norris said as he turned to look at the woman approaching him.  Jessica looked over the former Crow and bit her lip, seeing the prosthetic limb starting at the man's knee.  When she considered the two boys in her kitchen, she wondered who the real father was.  The young infant didn't have any hair on his head, but Jessica doubted that it would grow in red.

"Babies don't respect shit, Ed," Abrams said as she crossed her arms and leaned against the counter of her father's kitchen.  She could look out the window and see the Gateway Arch, but she had seen it enough in her youth.  Norris turned to her and cradled the child in his arms before raising an eyebrow.

"Not even if I slap him?"  Jessica scoffed at that before tilting her head.

"You really do want me to kill you in your sleep, don't you?" Abrams asked while raising an eyebrow.  Norris laughed at that before looking down at the baby in the crook of his arm.

"Might be better than sleeping on Mommy's couch, wouldn't it, Danny boy?" Norris said as he poked the infant with his index finger.  Jess smiled at the act, seeing Edward taking to the boy so well.  When Norris said the boy's name, Abrams thought about why she had chosen it.  She had thought about naming her son after one of her fallen comrades, but in the end decided that it was almost disrespectful.

After all, they had given their lives so that they could walk their own paths.  Her son would not live in anyone's shadow.

"....today, as Consuls Carver and Templeton were visiting Demeter in order to disband slave labor on the agricultural asteroid.  Whatever they plan to do with the farms is still up in the air, the administration has given no comment, but detractors are already claiming that the Tra-" the news anchor said on the nearby television, but Jessica grabbed the remote quickly and turned it off.  She knew that her friends were doing their best; there was no need to listen to the pundits.

"Thanks for that, girlie.  Danny was getting bored, and that's no good for the kid.  'Bout to take my son for a walk," he said as he spun about the kitchen on his mismatched legs.  Jessica laughed at the act, but then her thoughts went dark again.  When the Englishman made eye contact with her, his face was full of confusion; she had just been so happy.  "Oh, what now?"

"Ed," she said as she pushed off the counter and walked towards the two boys, keeping her arms crossed.  "We still don't know..."

"Oh, shove it, Jess," he said, shocking the former warrior out of her thoughts.  She looked up into the Edward's face and saw his usual grin.  "I told you; he's mine.  Makes no difference in the world who knocked you up, girlie.  Soon as this bugger came out of your crotch he had a father," he said, which caused Jessica to slap him on the shoulder.

"You will have no effect on my son's vocabulary, you bastard," she said, but a smile had crept across her face.

"Oh, yes I will, and you can only do a moderate amount of damage control, Jess.  When he grows up, everyone's gonna know that
we
raised him," he said before backing away towards the door.  "Alright, time for us to get the walking in while the walking's good, girlie.  When's your sister coming back?" he asked as he neared the hallway, turning once he hit the wall with his shoulder, which caused the woman to laugh.

"Rebecca will be back in an hour," Abrams said as she uncrossed her arms and followed them to the front door.  "We're cooking vegetable stew tonight," she said as the Englishman put his free hand on the door handle.  His face was full of mock thought when he opened the door and started to head through.

"So.... I will be eating out tonight, then.  Too bad Danny can't handle solid food yet, or I'd spare him from your sister's cooking," he said with a grin before turning and walking down the front steps to the muggy air of St. Louis.

"Hour and a half, Ed.  You're eating your goddamned stew," she said as she leaned up against the doorframe.  "I don't even know why you're walking around when it's all cloudy out, anyway."  At that, the Englishman had to chuckle.

"Where I'm from, Jess, this is sunny.  I'll be back," Norris said as he walked down the sidewalk and cradled his son.  Jessica watched for a moment before she looked out on her hometown.  It really was a miserable day, but she could see what Ed was talking about.  She couldn't stop the smile that broke out on her face as she gazed at the free world before her. 

These days, it always felt like the sun was shining. 

At that thought, Abrams remembered the man who had allowed her to have her son in peace; that allowed her to return to her home in St. Louis.  She looked at the sun behind the grey clouds and smiled, remembering the Crow from New Chicago.

"Thanks, kid.  For everything."