Swan Song (Book Three of the Icarus Trilogy) (23 page)

“What is....” He started, but the girl beside him giggled again.

“It’s a white wine spritzer.  Warren here just likes to put them in a bucket glass,” she said with a grin.  James looked at her and then back at the drink before turning to the bartender, who was staring at him expectantly.  “It’s ok, you can order something else,” Elizabeth began, but James put out his own hand to stop her.

“No.  I think I want a white wine spritzer.  Thank you, Warren,” he said as he grabbed the glass and then put it to his lips, maintaining eye contact with the young woman as he tasted it.  It was absolutely not something he would have liked, but it was enough to make the woman smile at his side.

“You are very committed to this.  I like that,” Elizabeth said before laughing and grabbing her drink.  “And just to answer your question, I was a student.”

“Was?” James asked as he crossed his legs and cradled his glass on his right knee.  The girl took a small sip from her drink and then sighed.

“Well, Babylon University is closed indefinitely because of this insurgency.  Kinda got dropped in the middle of a semester,” she said as she recounted her life story.  James felt guilty at that, denying her an education, but he reminded himself that he was fighting for a better future.

“That’s terrible.  Sorry about that.  What have you been doing since?” he asked, but he could tell from the way the girl stiffened up that it was a poorly-considered question.

“Not.... much of anything.  I’ve been getting into cooking lately….” she said with a note of desperation.  Elizabeth was only just getting past her period of mourning, and there really wasn’t much to do while a war was being waged.

“Oh, anything good yet?” James asked with a smile, which brought a scoff from the beautiful girl on the barstool next to him.

“Oh, God, no.  Mom’s helping, but I still need to learn.  She and .... my sister,” she said with a somber note, “they were the cooks.  My dad and I always just kinda picked at everything while they worked over the hot stove,” she said before taking another drink.  James laughed at that, which was enough to break Elizabeth from her memories.

“Man, you’re one of those.  I had to slap my brothers’ hands all the time when I was cooking for us,” Kaspar said as he recounted his childhood.  Jimmy’s mother had been working all the time and his father had been killed in a workplace accident just after his third brother had been born.  James had practically raised the little guys.

“Well if you cook for me I’ll try not to pick too much,” she said with a smile.  Kaspar was caught off-guard by that, but soon he warmed up to the idea.  He fantasized about how nice it would be if that ever happened.

“So what do you do, Jim?”  The question shocked the soldier out of his fantasy and he was suddenly unable to produce any words.  He tried to think about the lies he had told other people, but none of them were coming from his brain fully-formed.

“I.... I don’t want to lie to you, Elizabeth,” he said, biting his lip as he said it.

“Then don’t.  And just call me Liz.  Everybody else does,” she said, looking at him expectantly.

“I....”

“Look, you don’t have to tell me.  I get it.  Sometimes we don’t get to do things that we’re proud of,” Elizabeth said as she broke eye contact and then took another drink.  As soon as she finished the statement, however, James knew he had to tell her.  What he did with his life was not a thing of shame.  It didn’t need to be a secret.  And the way that they were talking, it seemed like she would not mind.

“I used to be on TV, you know,” Kaspar said, waiting for the young woman to look at him.

“Oh?  Advertising or something?” she asked as she looked back into his eyes.  He knew he would never be able to lie to her; he wouldn’t be able to stand it.

“I used to be on
War World
.  I fought for the Lions,” he said, waiting for the statement to sink in.  The woman looked at him in confusion for a moment, but soon the wheels started to turn.  After just a moment her eyes opened wide and she straightened up to her full height on that bar stool.

“Then....”

“Yep.  That’s why I was late.  Did you hear about-“

“The base?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“Well, I was part of the distraction,” he said as he leaned in so only she could hear.  “We had to outmaneuver some pursuit, so that cost me some time.  I understand if you don’t,” he started, but she grabbed his face and then shifted her gaze to everyone in the room, hoping no one heard him speaking.

“We can’t talk about this here!  It’s too public!  Ummm, c’mon,” she said as she grabbed some money from her handbag, threw it on the counter and then grabbed James by the arm.

“Where are we going?” he asked, but she didn’t bother to stop until they were out of Gillespie’s.

“We’ll go to my house for a bit.  No questions until we’re there, though,” she said urgently.  James followed her, though he didn’t have much of a choice, and stayed quiet during the short walk.

Elizabeth’s mind was going a mile a minute, but it didn’t seem to be working right.  By all rights she should have just left James at the bar and made him pay for the drinks, but she couldn’t let the man go.  She didn’t even support the EFI, because of them Charlotte was gone, but Liz was dragging Kaspar to her home anyway.

They walked through the doorway, Liz pausing only to say “hello” to her mother, but they rushed into her room without waiting for the woman to respond from the kitchen.  Elizabeth shoved the soldier inside and then shut the door behind her, using the surface to support her weight.  She breathed hard for a minute before looking at the dorky revolutionary by her bed.  Even now she couldn’t help thinking that he was cute.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” she asked, waiting for him to gather his wits.

“Um, I mean,” he started, but she walked over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Why would you tell me that?  We just met!  What if I was a loyalist or something?” she asked, thinking that a few days ago she very well could have been a loyalist.

“I.... there’s something about you, Liz,” he said before looking down at his feet.  The young woman took her hands off his shoulders and planted them on her hips.

“What?”  The revolutionary stood up to his full height and then breathed in deeply.

“When I first saw you, Liz.  I was drawn to you before I even really saw you.  It’s in the air around you.  I knew that you were a good person; I knew that I could trust you.  It’s crazy to think about it but I’m already starting to think of you with affection.  When I was fighting earlier today I couldn’t even think straight.  All I wanted to do was get back to Gillespie’s and,” he said before laughing weakly, “have a white wine spritzer with you.  And although you’re really pretty, it’s.... there’s more.  I can’t help it.”

The young woman looked over this man and realized everything that he said was true for her, as well.  As soon as Elizabeth had caught him staring at her on Lavender she knew she needed to talk to him.  The few hours between their meeting and their date felt like torture.  She had waited for him for thirty minutes for reasons she couldn’t understand.

Now she did.  Now she knew exactly why she had sat there and stared at that glass dripping water onto the napkin for half an hour.  When she looked at James she saw something deeper and more profound than anything she had ever experienced.  Even standing there in her bedroom, a stranger in her home, she felt like he was always meant to be there.

When James Kaspar stepped forward, took her face in his hands and kissed her, Elizabeth Kane kissed him back.

-

The former merchant giggled.  It was the first time he had ever done that since he had gotten to Earth.  He wasn’t exactly the right age for it, anyway.  Goldstein was in his late thirties and crows’ feet had already started to set into his face.  For the man to giggle meant that something positively exciting had happened.

It was more like three exciting things, in reality.  He was very pleased with himself after he figured out what they could do with Douglas Finnegan.  The poor man had become a tool of the revolution and a very good one at that.  The Crow had led the blind man by the hand and now support for the EFI was growing, resources and funding were coming in from all new sources.  It made the middle-aged man from Zion smile.

The fact that his home asteroid was against the Earth Freedom Initiative didn’t bother Goldstein at all.  He had not expected one of the wealthiest planets to rise up against the status quo, and he fully expected that his family cursed his existence.  Zachary and his friends were the reason they couldn’t afford luxury dinners anymore.

He had to smile at that.  It wouldn’t be much longer before Zion would have to capitulate.  The EFI was gaining support across the whole system, especially after the successful raid of the Babylon EOSF Barracks.  Very few casualties, only fifteen former civilians and six career soldiers had been killed in the operation and they expanded their inventory by leaps and bounds.  Zachary had spent a few hours trying to take account of their munitions but gave up in a gleeful desperation.  It would take weeks to take full stock of their haul.

And the best development happened in the form of Gaia’s white flag.  Or, rather, the EOSF garrisons on Gaia.  The residential asteroid, home to a great deal of the middle class, had been steadily gaining in support for the EFI.  After two months of struggle it seemed that the EOSF had finally given up, or at least the loyalists had.  There was a substantial amount of the EOSF that had defected upon the destruction of Eris. 

The Earth Freedom Initiative finally had a solid victory; they were really in the game.  It wouldn’t be much longer before Osmos would come over to the fold, either.  Goldstein heard that a Farmer’s Initiative had been started soon after the destruction of Eris.  Zachary had smiled when he heard one of the leaders went by the name of Feldman.

All in all, it was a good day for Zachary Goldstein.  It was a day for numbers and preparing for the future.

The middle-aged revolutionary was busy jotting down ration amounts and reading outpost requests when the radio crackled to life.  Goldstein was only half-listening to the device, as it was usually just police chatter about civilian disruptions, but it didn’t take long for the man to stop his pencil mid-stroke.

“....rrison, I am speaking as a representative for the Trade Union.  I’m looking Jonathon Carver.  Please, if you can relay this message,” the voice droned on, but Goldstein quickly grabbed the receiver and tapped on the outward line.

“I’m sorry, who is this?  Didn’t catch that,” Goldstein said, holding the receiver to his ear as he leaned back in his old, plastic chair.

“Oh, thank God.  This is Maxwell Garrison, I am speaking as a representative for the Trade Union and I’m trying to reach Jonathon Carver,” the voice said on the other end, which made the former merchant smile.  He had never had a direct relationship with the man, but Zachary knew Garrison very well.  He had to; it was his business.  He chuckled before swiveling around in his chair.

“I’m surprised you found this frequency.  You know you can’t track this, right?  We have it relayed through quite a few-”

“I’m not trying to track you, sir.  I’m trying to arrange a meeting with Jonathon Carver,” Garrison said, obviously flustered at Goldstein’s words.  The former merchant rolled his eyes and leaned forward in his chair.

“What would this meaning be about, Mr. Garrison?” Zachary asked as he bit his cheek.  He wondered what the Director of the Northwest Quadrant would want with a geriatric warrior.

“That’s between me and him,” Maxwell said, starting to get indignant.  Goldstein chuckled into the transmitter.

“Oh, Maxwell.  No.  That’s not how this is going to work.  First off, you’re going to have to provide a reason to seeing our old-as-dirt celebrity.  Secondly, there’s not much you can really talk to him about.  I know you’re about the same age as Mr. Carver, but the EFI’s not exactly in the business of reuniting old folks for games of Bridge,” Goldstein said, in love with his own words and jabs.

“Wha.... how dare you?  And how do you know who I am?” Garrison asked with a huff.  He obviously hadn’t expected to encounter someone as rude as Zachary Goldstein.

“Max, I’m hurt!  I was part of your quadrant!  In fact, I was on the same team as Carver, or as I like to call him, oh, wait, I can’t tell you that.  Would ruin our whole secret tactics.  We’re gonna change up this frequency, by the way.  Not exactly sure I like that you found it so easily,” Goldstein said as he grabbed his pencil and started to twirl it around his fingers.

“You.... what.... it took hours of automated computer-assisted searching to find one we could even communicate with you.   You....oh,” Garrison said in a clipped manner, flustered and out of his element, but soon his end of the conversation fell into silence.