“But you stayed.”
He nodded. “When my ten-year required enlistment ended, I didn’t know what else to do. Early on, I got lucky to be assigned as an assistant to Admiral Drek’s aide. When the aide left the military, I got promoted. To be an admiral’s aide is a favored and favorable position. I never had to fight, and being so close to the admiral, many perks came my way.”
“A cushy job.”
He winced. “If you choose to see it that way.”
“How do you see it?” she countered.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“With Admiral Drek dead, where does that leave you?”
“With an uncertain future.”
“Wouldn’t they reassign you?”
“Well, they can’t while I’m here.”
She recognized the evasiveness of the joke. “You said you’d gotten separated from your unit,” she reminded him. “Why haven’t you been reunited yet?” The story didn’t add up. She found it hard to believe a militarized society controlling every aspect of an individual’s life would lose track of an admiral’s aide because said admiral had passed away. While she had no military experience, she couldn’t fathom waging an annihilation campaign without excellent communication—especially since they had deployed ground troops. They had to be in communication to know everyone’s location to avoid vaporizing their own people, didn’t they?
“The situation got…a little chaotic after the admiral died.”
“One person’s death threw everything into chaos?” Didn’t he have a second-in-command who could step in?
Nobody should be that important or indispensable. Not even the very top person. The president of the United States had a veep waiting in the wings. And if the VP died with the prez, then the speaker of the House of Representatives stepped in. If he died, then president pro tempore of the Senate took over. If she was gone, then the president’s cabinet members in predetermined order assumed the position.
Of course, the constitutional line of succession had been rendered moot since all elected officials had perished, and few citizens remained to govern anyway.
Short of an apocalypse, there should be somebody who could pick up the reins. But far be it from her to tell him so. Rule of thumb: When the enemy fucks up—don’t stand in his way.
Let the aliens put themselves at risk. Sooner or later, somebody would take them down. Eventually, they’d encounter someone more powerful, maybe someone with a secret weapon.
“I said a little chaos—not thateverythingwas in chaos,” he said.
“A little chaos is an oxymoron.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It means either the situation is chaotic or it’s not.”
“I don’t want to talk anymore.” He pressed his lips together.
Getting close to the truth, am I?“Fine.” She collected the dirty plates and left the chamber.
* * * *
Laurel marched away, leaving him to stew in painful memories and uncomfortable emotions. Grav hadn’t thought about the MEC in years. Once he’d adjusted to the homesickness, the strict regimen, and the harsh discipline, he’d done all right, but he never liked to revisit the past.
When his mother had deposited him at the ministry education center, he’d cried. The ignominious display of emotion had landed him in solitary confinement. He had no recollection of how long he’d been locked up, but it probably had been days. It had taken him a while to figure out that as long as he continued to sob, they wouldn’t let him out.
The first Annual Visit Day, he’d waited for his parents, certain they would come. They hadn’t. He’d almost broken down into tears but managed to keep it together. The next year, he waited again. Another no-show. That’s when he realized they were never going to come. Having fulfilled their duty to the ministry, they were finished with him.
He was eleven years old when his brother, who’d been a baby the last time he’d seen him, arrived at the MEC. He’d been prepared to ease Rok’s transition, guide him, protect him, but his brother hadn’t needed him. At six years old, Rok was already everything the MEC sought to develop and that Grav wasn’t—stoic, tough, emotionless.
He thanked Zok every day he’d been assigned to a support position rather than combat, where his weakness would have been exposed. He didn’t have a stomach for killing people, not even vastly different beings. He supposed it was easier from a spaceship, when all you had to do was lock onto a city and open fire.Poof!Mass annihilation. Clean and simple. You never had to see the people you’d killed. It would be like they’d never existed.
But to march house to house and kill the stragglers face-to-face would make him sick.
