I worked with what I had. I pulled the corner of my collar and held it out for Hollingsworth to see. “Listen here, you self-pitying waste of speck. See these stars? You may not like it, but these stars make me a more important person than you. You got that? You’ve got a bird and I’ve got stars and that means you will either show me respect or I will throw your ass in the brig.”
He did not speak for several seconds. Finally, he said, “Sorry, sir.”
“Get this through your skull, Hollingsworth, I did not start the war with the Unified Authority. If you haven’t figured that out, it’s time that you did. They sent us out here to use us for target practice. You got that?”
“Yes, sir.” He stared straight ahead as if driving through hazardous traffic instead of empty streets, his hands wrapped tight around the steering wheel.
“I wasn’t the one who started the war. So if you are going to blame me for something, blame me for saving the specking fleet.”
This woke him from his stupor like a slap across his jaw. He looked at me, and said, “Begging your pardon, General, but the way this Marine sees it, Admiral Warshaw saved the fleet when he started up the broadcast zone.”
“Who came up with the idea of salvaging broadcast equipment in the first place, asshole? Who came up with the idea of hijacking those self-broadcasting battleships?” I asked.
Hollingsworth went back to staring straight ahead. He did not answer my questions.
“By the way, I hope you don’t plan on staying on Terraneau,” I said. “Your pal Doctorow told me to pack up my Marines and leave.”
More silence.
This was not how I wanted the conversation to go. When we left the meeting, I had half expected we could have a friendly conversation. I thought we might stop somewhere to talk over a couple of beers. As I saw Hollingsworth seething with anger, I realized that friendly conversation would never happen. He and I would never be friends.
“Turn up here,” I said, pointing to a road that headed to the northern edge of town.
“I thought you wanted to head to base,” Hollingsworth said.
“I changed my mind,” I said. I told myself I was being logical, that Hollingsworth could order the men to pack; but logic had nothing to do with my decision. I felt alone, and I wanted reassurance.
I knew the way to Ava’s house like I knew the scars on the back of my hands, and I told Hollingsworth every turn well in advance.
“Do you want me to send a jeep for you, sir?” he asked, as I climbed out.
“No, Colonel, I think I’ll find my own way back to the base,” I said.
He saluted and drove away.
I knocked on the door, but no one answered. I had to laugh. I had just traveled across three galactic arms only to find myself stuck in a suburb without a phone or a jeep. Maybe Ava was working late, maybe she was having dinner at a friend’s house, maybe she was spending the night in the girls’ dorm. She might arrive any minute or be gone all night.
The house was completely dark. I tried the door, but it was locked. For no real reason, I knocked again. No one answered. I walked to the edge of her front porch, sat, and waited. Time passed. Night turned to early morning.
By the time she finally arrived, the first streaks of sunlight showed in the sky. The car pulled into the driveway, stopped, and Ava climbed out of the passenger’s side. She started toward the front door, then she saw me and froze. A look of anger replaced her surprised expression.
Ava and I stood staring at each other for a few seconds.
“You’re back,” she said.
“I told you I would come for you,” I said. I wished the driver had been a clone. I would have accused the bastard of being an infiltrator and performed his autopsy on the spot, but he was a natural-born.
She saw where I was staring, and said, “I’m sorry,” her voice as cold and hard as marble.
“I was only gone for a week,” I said, not feeling so much angry as sad. Anger might come later, but for now I felt a deep sense of loss. A strange numbness spread across my brain, and with it came feelings of helplessness.
“Harris, we need to talk,” she said, not trying to disguise the scene as anything other than how it looked.
“No, we don’t,” I said. I stepped off the porch and walked past the car, not even bothering to look inside.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
I did not answer her. I had no idea where I would go.
“I’m sorry,” she said, as I reached the end of her driveway.
“Yeah,” I said. I might have said, “Me, too,” but it would have been a lie. I was no longer sorry. Sadness had already turned to anger.
I reached the end of the block before I realized that I had no way of calling for a ride. I could have gone back and called the base from Ava’s house, but my pride would not allow it.
Ellery Doctorow lived a few miles away. I could have found my way to his house easily enough, but that pompous bastard was the last person I would go to for assistance. I would not give him the satisfaction.
Deciding that a good walk would give me time to think things through, I turned the corner and started down the hill. I wanted to be alone with my anger, so I walked.
Your perspective changes when you walk streets you’ve only driven in the past. Rises stretch into hills, and slopes become steeper. Seconds turn into minutes. It took me twenty minutes to reach the bottom of Norristown Heights, and Fort Sebastian was still twenty minutes away by car.
The air had a cool morning chill. Dew glistened on the grass. Cars passed me on the road every few seconds, speeding down streets that were nearly empty. I ran across a four-lane road, the nearest cars so far away that I could not hear their engines.
A few moments later, a Marine sped by in a jeep going at least eighty miles per hour. He spotted me, and his head turned to track me as he drove past.
I expected him simply to drive away, but he didn’t. The jeep did not screech to a halt, but the tires did squeal just a bit as the driver pulled a U-turn. He cut across several empty lanes, then drifted in my direction, pulling to the side of the road about ten feet ahead of me.
“General Harris?” He said my name as if it were a question.
“Yes,” I said.
“Colonel Hollingsworth sent me to pick you up, sir,” he said.
“Did he? Well, that’s excellent,” I said, remembering full well that the last thing I told Hollingsworth was that I would get myself back to base.
“Yes, sir,” the sergeant said.
It was possible. Ava might have called Hollingsworth and told him what happened. They did not know each other well, but they had run into each other a time or two, and she might have wanted to make sure I got back to Fort Sebastian safely. He might have decided to send a car even if she did not call. It wasn’t likely, but it could happen.
Instead of climbing into the rear of the jeep, as I might normally have done, I stepped into the passenger’s seat.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we pulled away.
“The colonel is waiting for you at Fort Sebastian, sir,” said the sergeant.
“Excellent,” I said. I spoke the words around a yawn. I’d just spent the entire evening standing outside Ava’s house. We headed south and east, the right general direction for Fort Sebastian, skirting downtown Norristown but still driving through other urban districts. My driver did not speak. I sensed an odd intensity in his focus.
I asked him a few questions, and his answers seemed right enough, but something about him, some indefinable quality, left an unpleasant impression. He was the kind of guy who can’t tell a joke because nothing he said could ever be funny. Here he sat, saying all the right things, and I had already decided that I did not like him.
“What is your name, Sergeant?” I asked.
