Read The War for Profit Series Omnibus Online
Authors: Gideon Fleisher
“Well, now we have a bed,” said Galen.
Karen stepped back into the doorway and said, “So you think we’d have never gotten together if I weren’t a sleeper. Are you some kind of freak for sleepers?”
Galen said, “You had time to think about it, that’s all I’m saying. Otherwise, it might have taken you a while to reveal your feelings for me.”
Karen moved her hands to her hips. “And that’s all?”
Galen patted the bed. “Have a seat. We have to load-test this bed.”
Karen removed her war gear from the closet and as she walked out of the bedroom she said, “Call me when you’re ready to apologize.”
Galen met Spike at the spaceport, seated in a corner booth of the snack bar. The shelves had just been stocked that afternoon but it wasn’t open for business. They were alone.
“Spike, I need some advice.”
“About what? This place is coming along nicely,” said Spike.
“Karen.”
“Oh. I thought it was something important.”
Galen said, “It’s important to me.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
“My bed came today.”
Spike said, “Not big enough for the both of you?”
Galen shrugged. “Haven’t found out yet. Right after me and Karen put on the sheets and blanket, she got mad and left.”
Spike leaned forward. “What did you say?”
“She said—”
“No. What did
you
say?”
“I said we need to load test the bed.”
Spike shook his head, “Before that. About five minutes before she got mad.”
“Oh.” Galen had to remember. “Oh, she asked why I didn’t ship the bed in the command drop ship and I told her I didn’t want to exercise excess privilege, and then she said I should have for her sake, and then I pointed out the fact I had no idea she really liked me until after she passed out at the jump point from being a sleeper, and then we made the bed, and then I said we should load test the bed and then she got mad and left. She told me to call her when I was ready to apologize.”
Spiked stifled a laugh. “Women don’t always think the way we do.”
“What do you mean?”
“One,” Spike held up his left thumb, “time is immaterial to them when it comes to love. Two,” Spike extended his left index finger, “they don’t want to be taken for granted.”
“But…that makes no sense.”
Spike said, “Look at it from her perspective. She’s in love with you and she gives herself willingly and unconditionally. But some part of her cries out for respect and demands you don’t take advantage of that unconditional love.”
“Okay. Now why should I apologize?”
“Here’s the deal. At some point, somewhere before she got her grandfather to send her on this mission, knowingly or not, intentionally or not, you said or did something that made her like you. Then she went into an eternal darkness and played that over and over in her mind, and came out of it and declared her love for you. So, she thought you liked her the whole time.”
Galen reached for his personal communicator. “So what do I say?”
“You…you have to pick your own words. Whatever you do, don’t lie. But here’s an outline. If it’s true, you say you liked her from the moment you first met. If not, tell the truth about when you first started to like her. Next, let her know how you feel, and then make some sort of promise you can actually keep. That’s very important, do not make a promise you can’t keep.”
Galen tapped his personal communicator. Spike stood to leave. Galen waved for him to sit back down.
Karen answered the call. “Hello.”
Galen said, “Hello. I love you very much.”
Karen said, “Is that all?”
“I liked you the first time I saw you, outside the board room. When you changed your hair and put yourself on this contract, I was thrilled. I didn’t know what to say, I wasn’t sure.”
“Okay.”
“Karen, when you came back from the jump, when I gazed into your eyes, I knew then I loved you.”
“I…”
“Karen, I’ll never take your love for granted, never again. Even though I know you love me no matter what, I’ll treat you with respect. You deserve it.”
“I love you too. Meet me somewhere.”
Galen put his thumb over the receiver and whispered to Spike, “She wants to meet me somewhere.”
Spike whispered, “Somewhere outside, secluded, with a good view.” Then Spike gestured vigorously at the personal communicator.
“The lake, Karen. We’ll meet at the spot where they broke ground for the park by the lake.”
“I love you, Galen.”
“I love you too.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
“Me too.”
“You called me, you end the transmission.”
“I’ll see you soon.” Galen pressed the ‘end call’ button.
Spike said, “You owe me one, making me sit through that lovey-dovey crap.”
Galen said, “Thank you. But it’s not crap.”
“Oaky, it’s not crap to you. But I’ve been through it before. You’re benefitting from my mistakes.” Spike stood and left.
Galen went back to his room and brushed his teeth and put on a fresh set of coveralls. Then he took up a light jog, just slow enough to not work up a sweat, for the two kilometer trip to the rendezvous point by the lake. He stood there and waited for about ten minutes and then he saw Karen approaching from a distance.
The sun was low on the horizon, nearing the rim of the crater in the distance, glowing orange behind her. As she got closer, the sun touched the crater rim and the light made Karen’s image a silhouette that seemed to not touch the ground, the rhythmic swaying of he hips something Galen had not really noticed before. He saw her as an entity, a spirit. She came closer, at arm’s length once again a solid person. Dressed in combat coveralls, a pony tail under a patrol cap. Galen stood with open arms and she walked right into him and he hugged her close. She tilted back her head and he removed her patrol cap and kissed her full on the lips for half a minute. He noticed the sun was half way below the rim.
“Look,” said Galen, and released his hug and gripped Karen’s shoulders and turned her around to see the sunset. They watched, standing side by side, Galen with one arm around her shoulders, Karen with one arm around his waist. After the sun set, they turned to watch the shadow of the crater’s rim inch its way up the side of the mountain.
“Beautiful,” said Karen.
“Yes,” said Galen. “Ready to go back?”
“Yes.”
They walked hand-in-hand, slowly, in no hurry.
Karen said, “So what are your plans?”
“I have no plans. Only dreams.”
Karen thought for a moment. “What are your dreams?”
Galen stopped and said, “My dream is to own a forty hectare farm on Ostreich, to live as a gentleman farmer and raise my own food for fun. And keep horses, maybe.”
Karen faced him. “A farm with horses. Sounds lovely. Maybe someday your dream can come true. But horses?”
“They have horses on Ostreich, they’re popular. And farms, many retired men own farms.” Galen looked into Karen’s eyes.
She folded her arms. “And a family, a wife?”
“Half a dozen kids and a beautiful wife.”
“Do you think I’m beautiful?”
“You, the real you, you are beautiful.”
“But Galen, do you like my face, my body?”
“Yes, you would be beautiful if you were a statue. But you’re more beautiful because of the spirit, your spirit, shining through your face. Your body, more beautiful because you live within it. I like your breasts, your fanny, your legs, for no other reason than because they are yours.”
“And my hair?”
Galen smiled. “I have a thing for pony tails. And brown hair. That old corporate platinum blond Cleopatra cut wasn’t doing it for me.”
“I noticed.” Karen reached for her patrol cap. Galen stuck it on her head and she reached up and adjusted it.
“I’m glad you came,” said Galen as he reached for her hand. They resumed their walk.
“What kind of family name is Raper?”
“It’s from way back, a thousand years maybe,” said Galen. “On Ostreich, children take the father’s family name. If a child was born out of wedlock, and the pregnancy was the result of rape, the child was given the family name of Raper. But that was a very long time ago; they don’t do that any more.”
Karen said, “Very interesting.”
“A woman would have to really be in love to take the name Mrs. Raper. A testament to the truth, that my mother loved my father. So now the meaning of the name is the opposite of what it used to be.”
“Mrs. Raper. I’ve thought about that.”
Galen took a deep breath. “About that. I don’t want to ruin the surprise and I don’t want to make you feel strung along, but—”
“But what?” Karen flung away his hand and stopped walking.
“It’s tradition, I have to let my mother know, I have to introduce you to my mother, in person, before I can ask you to marry me.”
“Okay. I can live with that. Can we get pre-engaged?”
Galen reached for her hand and they resumed walking together.
“Karen, you’re disrupting the whole process. All I can say right now, is prepare to be surprised some time during the next two weeks.”
“Okay,” said Karen. “All that fuss, just to become Mrs. Raper.”
“Well just be glad my name’s not Hoar.”
“What?”
“There was an instructor at the Academy, a retired Colonel, and his family name was Hoar. His wife was Mrs. Hoar. And his two daughters, they were Hoars. Such Hoars, they wed very young just to get a new family name. And his mother, she was a Hoar too.”
Karen finished laughing. “Did he have any sons?”
“Yes, two sons. They became confirmed bachelors. Neither of them could woo a woman willing to become a Hoar for them.”
Karen laughed again. They were near the barracks so Galen spoke less loudly.
“Karen, tell me about you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well I already know your grandfather is the chairman, and I know your father served in a Langston legion. And I’ve read your personnel file, as required by my position as commandant. Tell me about your mother.”
“After my father died she left and went to live on Terra at her grandfather’s home, which stood empty for two years after her grandfather passed away. It was either occupy the house or concede ownership of it back to the government. I was in the Mandarin academy when she left and I stayed on Mandarin after I graduated.”
“I mean, what was she like?”
Karen smiled. “She’s still alive. We’ll see her when she comes to visit her father, my grandfather, on Mandarin. She visits every couple of years.”
“And where does she live on Terra?”
Karen looked at Galen as he held open the front door of the command hooch. “She lives in the Philippine Islands.”
Galen followed her into the building. “So, she’s Polynesian.”
Karen stopped and said, “I know what you’re getting at, so here’s the deal: My father was half Dutch dirt farmer and part Negro and part Native American, my mother is half Mandarin and half Pacific Islander, which makes me just about everything you can think of. I’m Red, Yellow, Black and White.”
“And what are your plans, your dreams.”
Karen stopped, turned toward him and held both his hands in hers. “I’ll meet the perfect man, fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after.”
Galen’s wrist chronometer buzzed; a text from Tad:
conference room five minutes
.
Karen saw the message, pulled away and said, “I’ll be right there, I’m going to the bathroom.”
Galen went into the conference room and sat at the head of the table. Tad came in and fiddled with his personal communicator for a moment and laid it on the table so that it projected 2D onto the white interior wall across the table from him.
Galen said, “Tad, what’s this about?”
“Can I hold off for the rest of the command team?”
“Sure, why not.”
Karen returned and Tad pulled out the chair next to him, indicating she should sit there. Galen ignored a bit of jealousy when he realized she’d have to sit on that side of the table to see the display made by Tad’s personal communicator.
Koa and Spike arrived together.
“Sit on this side, gentlemen, so you can see,” said Galen.
They sat.
Tad cleared his throat and said, “We’ve made contact with Seventh City rebel forces.”
Spike said, “That’s what we’re calling it now?”
“No,” said Tad, “that’s what they’re calling themselves. One key to a successful rebellion is to give your group a new name. Anyway, I’ve got Sevin on standby with his report. Whenever you’re ready, Commandant.”
“Show it,” said Galen.
Tad tapped his personal communicator. “Master Sergeant Sevin, we’ve got you on conference. Mitchell, Spike, Koa and the Commandant are here, and it’s 2D video projection.”
Sevin’s face showed on the wall. “Roger. We made contact with a lightly armored force of six wheeled vehicles, civilian trucks outfitted with ceramic plates. They had quad ten millimeter rapid fire, chemically propelled projectile guns mounted on the beds.”
The screen showed a sketch of a truck with the guns mounted on a swivel turret on the bed and the plates bolted around it.
Sevin continued his brief. The screen showed pitch dark, and then transitioned to a pale green with ghostly images of vehicle movement in the distance. “They detected our unoccupied dummy outpost and poured fire into it at standoff range.”