“I tell you,” Nathan said sarcastically, “it’s all these new people. They’re eating us right out of house and home. They’re like a bloody plague of locusts.”
Although the situation was grim, Simon couldn’t help grinning. Nathan, no matter what else was going on, had to laugh and joke. In his own way, he was as bad as the children in the corner.
“They have a table for blokes like you,” Simon warned.
Nathan looked at the corner and shook his head. “You mean I’d have to sit at the little kid table? Not bloody likely. Cows would sooner jump over the moon, mate, and pigs would fly.”
“You’re up early.” Simon pushed his empty bowl away and sipped his tea. It too had grown cool.
“Not exactly.” Nathan folded a piece of deer steak and popped it into his mouth.
Simon cocked an eyebrow and looked at his friend.
“I haven’t hit the rack yet,” Nathan admitted.
“What kept you up?”
Nathan pulled a long, slow grin. “Natalie Cho.”
“Oh?” Simon hadn’t even seen that coming. Usually Nathan dated around and didn’t stay around any one woman too long. He’d been that way before the invasion. With the world hovering on the precipice, there was even less reason to get serious about someone now.
Nathan shrugged. “We…like each other a lot.”
“I see.”
Nathan waited. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“That this isn’t exactly the best time to go and get romantically involved with someone.”
“Are you getting romantically involved?”
Nathan blinked at Simon as if he were incredibly dense. “I thought that was what I was just telling you, mate.”
“Oh.”
Irritation knitted Nathan’s brows. “Again with the ‘oh.’ I swear, your father named you appropriately enough. Simple Simon.”
“Well…” Simon thought about responses he could or should make. “I suppose you like her.”
“We like each other. And I told you that, too.”
“You did. I’m just having trouble keeping up with you.”
“What’s to keep up with?”
“You. Natalie Cho. The redoubt. The lack of food, and the probable lack of water after summer comes. Or before then if the snow becomes toxic. And the funerals.”
Mention of that took some of the wind from Nathan’s sails. “The funerals.” He took in a breath and let it out. Then he looked at Simon. “Maybe you should think about letting someone else handle those, mate.”
“No,” Simon said. “I took them out there. I got them killed—”
“The demons killed them. It wasn’t you.”
“If I’d—”
Nathan reached across the table and dropped a hand onto Simon’s shoulder. “Simon, if you could change any of this, you would. I’d help you. But if you start blaming yourself for everything that happens—casualties—”
“They weren’t just casualties,” Simon said bitterly. “They were friends.”
“I know that. Truly I do. But I also know—and they knew—that no guarantees exist in what we’re doing now. This—this is what we trained to do, mate. Give our lives fighting the demons and holding on to this world.” Nathan nodded and held Simon’s gaze. “They did their part. Respect them enough to acknowledge that they died trying to do what they promised their ancestors they’d do. And they died honorably. Let them rest honorably, and give them their full measure of respect. They weren’t fools you led into battle. They were warriors.”
“I know. I will.”
Nathan lifted his hand from Simon’s shoulder. “You will. In time.” He paused. “You want to know what’s really scary?”
Simon looked at his friend, aware that he should have known Nathan hadn’t yet said everything that was on his mind. He waited.
“Natalie’s pregnant,” Nathan said. “We just confirmed that last night. The lab gave her a blood test. She’s about six weeks along.”
Simon tried to find some happiness for his friend and smiled a little, but he couldn’t help thinking that in a few months—too few months—there would be another mouth to feed in the redoubt.
“Congratulations,” Simon said.
“Yeah.” Nathan was silent for a moment. “Natalie’s upset. She cried when the nurses told her.”
“Afraid it’ll look like you?” Simon tried to keep the humor going between them, but he felt the strain of the effort it took.
Still, Nathan grinned. “That was harsh, my friend.” But the humor quickly died in his dark eyes.
“Maybe too harsh,” Simon agreed.
“No.” Nathan shook his head. “You did fine. I’d have said it if you hadn’t. The thing is, Natalie had to stop and think about whether she wanted to have the baby.”
That stilled Simon. Templar didn’t have abortions. Life was sacred. God gave life as a gift. Even children who had handicaps remained in Templar families and were loved as gifts. Not many of those happened, with the way the Templar took care of themselves and maintained healthy lifestyles, but there were occasional birth defects. Children with missing or defective limbs were made whole inside the suits of armor.
Simon waited.
“She’s still not sure what she wants to do,” Nathan said. “Other than the fact that she’s dead certain she doesn’t want to have it now. She doesn’t want to leave a child behind if she gets killed in the field. She’s seen too much of that around here.”
Simon knew that was true. One of those that had died last night had left children.
“Cryonics are a possibility,” Simon pointed out. “You could freeze the embryo.”
Nathan grinned mirthlessly. “Not here, mate. Back in the Templar Underground, sure. But not here. We’re living out in the hinterlands.” He twirled his spoon. “She’s thinking of going back to the Templar Underground.”
Simon didn’t say anything. He kept his face as blank as he could. Under the circumstances, that was easy: he didn’t know what to think.
“They can remove the embryo there,” Nathan said. “Freeze it and save it for later. For when we kick the demons back to wherever it is they came from.”
“What if that doesn’t happen in this lifetime?” Simon asked.
“And here I thought you were going to come up with a plan soon.”
Simon shook his head. “Not me. I’m in survival mode, not
