The sweat is cooling off of my body, except where Sarah is still touching me. We had to try and be a little quieter this time. Two nights ago, Petey wandered into the room, complaining about strange sounds keeping him awake. It comes with being a parent, I suppose….
“Pytor?”
“Huh…what’s up?”
“Have you ever…well, gotten a strange feeling whenever you, uh…shot anyone?”Now, I wonder whatever brought that up? That’s a rather strange question for her to be asking. She’s looking for something, but what? I lean down and kiss the top of her head before I answer.
“No. I don’t feel anything. It’s just a job. I do take pride in my work, so I guess if I feel anything, it’s a sense of accomplishment. I went in and I did the job to the best of my ability.”
I took a deep breath before continuing. Here is where it was going to possibly get tricky.
“What about you?”
She pulled herself up on an elbow, so she looked down from the left. Her curly brown mop, cropped short like most scouts, sat at an odd angle, giving her face a slightly different look.
Heavens, she was so beautiful. Her and the boy are the only reason that I feel anything at all.
“I see myself, the rifle and the round as parts of a greater whole. A sort of symbiosis, you could call it. It takes the three of us to become a complete whole. The best phrase that comes to mind for me is ‘fulfilling of purpose.’ This is what I do and I’m one of the best there is at it.”
As I listened to her words, somehow I could understand her meaning and sentiment behind them. What she said made a lot of sense. Up until now, I just shot people because it was my job. Now after hearing this, it began to come together.
The bedroom is a hell of a place to have an epiphany…but I suppose there are worse places. I was able to sum the whole thing that I felt in two words;
“Scout’s honor.”
“Huh?”
“Scout’s honor. It defines what we are and what we do. We are all bound by the craft that we all practice. Our skill, dedication, and focus sets us apart from everyone else. Human, Wraith, Ebon, no matter. We all share the same focus, we’re part of the same community.”
She gave me a puzzled look.
“That’s kind of deep, Pytor. Are you sure about that?”
“I’m sure, Sarah. Were is your rifle?”
She twisted away from me toward her side of the bed and reached down.
“You know where. The same place that you keep…oh, my!” “The same place that we all keep ours. Beside us, within arm’s reach…even when we sleep.”
I reached up to touch her face.
“We all are one.”The next night, Petey and I were eating our pizza, while watching the latest Sammy Yu flick on TV. This was a good one. He was reprising his role as Wong Fei Hung, a martial hero during the Conflict Wars, in ‘Wong Fei Hung And The Search For Slayer’s Gold’ or something like that.
I wasn’t too much into it, but the boy loved the stuff…what could I do?
There was a knock at the door. Petey was off like a bullet.
“I got it, I got it!”
He climbed up on the stool by the door, checked the video monitor and began jumping up and down in glee.
“Grandpa! Grandpa! Dad! It’s Grandpa!”
“Well Pete, don’t keep him in the rain, let him in.”
A moment later, Petey opened the door and the old rascal sauntered in, smelling of perfume and carrying a six pack of soda. He tousled Petey’s hair and dropped right on the couch.
“Hey there! I heard that you were having a men’s night, so I figured this would be the best place for me right now. I brought soda and we can order a couple more pizzas, especially since…”
The door buzzer went off again. I got up this time to check it out.
“Hey! We’ve got soda, chips and other stuff! You gonna let it get wet and go to waste? Let us in, Rogov!” Pogue MacGiver, Samson Strong, Goliath, Yuri Gausgofer and Swift Claw were standing under the eaves of the entry way. Actually Goliath was standing under the eaves and everyone else was standing under Goliath.
“Grandpa…”
“What? Seeing as you were stuck in, I figured you and the lad could use some company. Pogue overheard me and…I guess he mentioned it to Samson and you know wherever Samson goes, Goliath is sure to follow. You’re on your own with the other two.”
I buzzed the lot of them in. It was the only safe thing to do.
Pogue is our squad’s resident Frother and pharmaceutical specialist. However, he’s courteous enough, not to use the stuff around Petey. We’ve been friends since Sirji formed the squad.
Unlike most Frothers I’ve met, he’s rather laid back and easy going. Fun at parties, dangerous in a fight…to the other guy. He was the spokesperson for this motley crew that entered our apartment and the first one in the door.
“Hey Rogov! Here, take this stuff. Petey-my-man! How’s it hangin’? What’s my favorite little man up to?”
He picked Petey up and spun him over his head with one hand. All the air time that the boy gets, I figure that he’ll probably go pilot rather than scout like his ma and pa….
Next in were Samson and Goliath. Our contribution to helping War World vets readjust to civilian life. Samson was a human long range heavy weapons specialist and Goliath, a Malice Stormer, was his spotter. The two did 14 months on Cross. Which is an accomplishment in of itself.
They finished their tour of duty and went right into Helping Hand. The only side effect of their battle trauma is the fact that neither can stand to be away from the other for very long. I quietly expect that if one gets taken out, the other will either have to be put away or put down.
Samson grew up with me in my old neighborhood. Nobody expected him to volunteer to go to a War World. Fewer expected him to come back. I knew better. He always followed through on his word, no matter what.
As for Goliath, I’ve always known that Stormers were “programmed” to always be nice to humans, but I have never seen such a gentle being in my life. It’s amazing to find that those whose life was manufactured treasure it so much more than those who get it naturally. It just goes to prove that old truism about people appreciating something more when they have to work for it…even life itself. Petey accepts his appearance without prejudice or bias and loves him unconditionally.
Children are so amazing.
“Pogue, I’m going out for a long one! Throw the boy!” Petey sailed across the room in a high arc. Goliath caught him as if he were catching a balloon. He then spun around and did a hand off to Samson, who promptly ran with him and dove, back first, onto the couch, right over Grandpa’s head.
“Hey! I smell something pretty! I know that Sarah isn’t here! Oh-oh! Grandpa’s been in the muffins again!”
Swift Claw danced just out of Grandpa’s reach, while teasing him.
“Swifty, watch that stuff…remember, Peter?”
“Oh, sorry Rogov. You humans are so weird about sex. It’s part of nature and life…I never understood why you all are so guarded about it?”
“Swift Claw graduated from Meny the same time that Sarah and I did. Our class was 70% Wraith Raider. While the Wraiths get along with humanity rather well, there is more than a small difference. Swifty didn’t care too much about it. He said that he liked the way that Sarah and I smelled and that was good enough for him. Besides, he was the only survivor of his litter and was kind of lonely. This was our first time away from home, so it worked out and he’s been a friend ever since. Our team scored highest in our class.
Which leads me to the next member of our little group, Yuri Gausgofer. Yuri is a cousin (actually more like a brother, the way we were together) on my mother’s side. He hung out with Samson and myself back in the old neighborhood.
I thought that I was a quiet one, but Yuri was one of those people who only spoke when he had to. He always had this beatific smile on his face, as if he were the sole owner of some stupendously dirty, but funny joke that led to the wisdom of the ages.
Yuri also went to Meny with us and he got along with the Wraiths better than we did. He somehow shared their racial mentality, I guess. Nonetheless, he was also part of our training group.
He just walked in, clapped me on the shoulder, walked over, slapped Grandpa on top of his bald spot…
“Hey! Watch that, Gausgofer! Wait until the next time you get the drip!”
…leaned down and kissed Petey on the head.
“Hi, Uncle Yuri! What’cha bring me?”
Yuri smiled and held up one finger.
“Where? Where?”
He pointed to the right.
“Your right pocket?”
Petey searched his right pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar. He then hugged Yuri’s leg.
“Oh boy! A Kaptain Kontract bar! Thank you so much, Uncle Yuri!”
Both Yuri and Swifty were part of another squad, and they worked as a sniper team, switching back and forth as primary shooters.
Just before the door closed, a last figure slipped in to a roar of approval by everyone including Petey.
“K’rtl’nd’rl!”
Petey ran over to him, stopped and bowed.
The Shaktar returned the bow and then picked him up.
“I see that you have been well, Peter. Have you remembered your lessons?”
Petey nodded, jumped from his arms and then dropped into a low fighting stance and began a series of movements. He finished, turned to K’rtl’nd’rl and bowed.
“Very good. Not sloppy or rushed. That’s enough. Tonight, we are here to enjoy ourselves.”
Petey bowed again, hugged his leg and then began to walk away.
K’rtl’nd’rl was the fifth member of our training squad at Meny. His specialization was the Shaktar long rifle. This is a weapon with a 1.5 meter barrel and a kick like one of their famed bulls. The weapon was fired from an extremely long range and a master of the weapon could hit a target multiple times within a ten centimeter shot group.
K’rtl’nd’rl’s father was a grand master with the weapon and according to stories, he could have a fifth shot locked and fired before the first one hit and have all five rounds enter the same entry hole. That’s one hell of a large pair of shoes to fill. Not that he’s doing a bad job at it….
He is currently training Petey in the Shaktarian fighting arts. K’rtl’nd’rl was considered a master at age 12. I could think of no better teacher for my son than him. I’m no martial artist, I just shoot people. However, K’rtl’nd’rl thinks that I have that same quality that Shaktarian masters of the long rifle have. They call it…M’kt’rl’dn or The Way of the Long Target. He describes it as an ability to extend your senses, so the target appears right in front of you. He also thinks that Petey has it and with training he’ll become a better shot than any of us.
“Oh, before you go. I brought something back from my home for you.”
He reached into the bag at his side and pulled out a short sword.
“This is a blade that the young ones on my world train with when they are learning The Way. As you are learning The Way, you should have a blade as well. And one more thing.”
He then reached into the bag and pulled out a yellow kerchief and tied it around his neck.
“This will let all know that you are my student and as a badge that you are a warrior in training. Seyla, let it be so.”
Petey took the sword in his right hand, then went to his knees and bowed. K’rtl’nd’rl did the same and returned the bow. The room was silent as this went on. Afterwards, I went and got cups and passed them around to everyone.
“I guess that this is a very special occasion, indeed. Let us celebrate this moment, friends.”
Just then, there was a thud at the door.
“So, Grandpa. Who else did you tell about this evening? The milkman? Or should we be expecting bloody Intruder to show up?”
I opened the door and felt my heart turn to ice.
“P-Pytor…help…help….”
It was Sarah. She was lying on the floor, blood splattered all over her combat suit and her rifle clutched in her hand. I pulled her in and got her to the couch. K’rtl’nd’rl held Petey while Grandpa began working on her.
“Pytor, call an ambulance. It’s not very bad, I can stabilize her, but she needs a little more than I can do right here. Don’t worry. I’m still a registered doctor, so I’ll be handling her case myself.”
“Pytor…”
“I’m here, Sarah.”
“It was a set up…everyone’s gone…gone. Sallow, Murtaugh, Janos, Gregory, everyone.”
“Don’t talk, save your strength. It will be fine.”
“Don’t get maudlin on me, Pytor. I know I will be alright…I just want you to know what happened. There was no way that Dark Night cell should have known we were coming…”
She coughed up a large dark clot of blood all over the front of her top and spat out the rest. I looked at Grandpa with a scowl.
“Pytor, she’ll be fine. She took some lung damage and more than a couple of her other internal organs are bruised, but it’s nothing that she can’t bounce back from. She’s a strong girl. She’ll do fine. Trust me, please.”
He placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and everyone else was crowded around, hanging on our every word.“It was a set up. The BPN was a set up. The intel was not just wrong, but it was purposely misreported. The leader of the cell said so. He also said something about us ‘being killed to fill the requirements of the contract.’ I only got away because when the rocket came at me, I jumped. The blast…oh, Pytor, it hurts so much….”
She clenched her eyes as tears ran from the pain. All I could do was to hold her hand.
Then Petey came over. I saw how his eyes were wet with tears, but my strong little boy didn’t cry out, not once.
“Mom. You’re gonna be alright. Grandpa said so. So that’s that.”
He then leaned down and kissed her.
Swifty placed a hand on my shoulder.
“So, Rogov. What are you going to do now?”
“What else? Time to deliver some payback.”
Yuri spoke again and for everyone in the room.
“Scout’s honor?”
“Scout’s honor, Yuri. Scout’s honor.”
"HEED THE WORD OF THE BROTHER!"
Comments to Beryl Turner
Freelancer for hire and Chairman of the El Lefé Cartel.
Fiction, technical writing, and Game-Related writing my speciality. I also
swing a mean sword and I'm a damn good shot, to boot.
www.enteract.com/~milenko/cartel.html
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