It's the end of the month, so of course, I'm going with one more Space Guys installment, actually starting where I left off. As usual, the table of contents is at the end.
“Losing
your line takes a big mistake,” Jason said succinctly. “I wouldn’t have thought
the real Major Maxon would do it. But then mistakes aren’t always accidents.
Are they?”
“So I screwed up once,” Maxon said. “You saw yourself, it didn’t break. Now, what do you really want to talk about?”
“Are you expecting me to ask about the scar?” Jason snapped back. “Or the silly knife you left in the locker?” Moxon returned his gaze in silence. “Well, I wondered about one thing. Did you ever tell the story, any story about what happened, to someone who didn’t ask?”
Moxon considered that. “Well, never is a strong word,” he said. “Usually, the ones who don’t ask don’t want to know, or they have enough rank to make it an order. Now for you, I’d think about it. But first thing first, if it was a choice, would you want to know about that scar… or these?” He rolled up his long left sleeve. Beneath was a trail of needle marks. Jason stiffened, though he felt no surprise.
“So
they did try it on you,” he said.
Moxon
nodded. “Whatever they did to you and your friends, they tried on me first,” he
said. “You could say I’m your father figure… leastways, your godfather Fagan.”
Jason spoke one word: “When?”
“It was after Futura landed the Ares, just before Kronos started out,” Moxon said. “It wasn’t long before I got the big one. I had been in the Baton Rouge intervention, only my team was up in Missouri. They were still getting the Corps into a proper force. In the middle of it, there was a call that came out, completely above board. All they said was that they wanted volunteers for a treatment that would help humans adapt to extreme environments. They didn’t say anything about interplanetary colonization. Of course, they didn’t really have to. I signed on, just to see what they really knew.”
Jason shook his head. “They wouldn’t do it now,” he said. “They should have known better then. To do it right, you need to start the treatments by 18 months at the latest. With Jax and Jill, they started as soon as they were sure she was expecting. On adults, the effects are too unpredictable…”
“Trust me, they figured that out really quick,” Moxon said. “There were 30 of us to start with. They kept us together at a medium-clearance facility, the kind where the people supposed to know what’s happening, eventually. 10 were screened out after the first round or so, before things could really kick in. From what came out later, it took another 6 weeks of screening before they were allowed to be in contact with the public. By then, we were down to 12. Then it was 8, then 5, then 3, then me. The last two were self service.”
“Damn,”
Jason said. “What happened after that?”
“I got back on duty as soon as it was over,” the officer said. “The military had wanted to see us in action all along. I had already been on the fast track. People in the right places made sure I kept going up. There were times when the enhancements helped. Once or twice, it might have been the difference whether I got out at all. I never took too many chances.”
He smiled. “If it comes to that, I just might tell you a little more,” he said. “You could ask. Or you could take a guess. But you already know enough. Take it out.” Jason went to the storage closet. It only took a moment to retrieve the flame knife. “Yes, that’s right. You’ve got the legend right in your hand. The blade that did this.” He pointed to the scar that ran from his scalp to his jaw.
Jason considered the jagged scar and the twisting blade. One certainly fit the other. Of course, he pondered the possibilities of using the blade to finish what its original owner had started. But then, of course, it was already obvious how that had gone. “You know, the one other thing I wondered was how anybody else got past you.”
Moxon shook his head in turn. “That’s where everyone wants there to be a story,” he said. “Like there was something special, leastways something that went wrong. There wasn’t, no more than usual. It could have happened at a hundred different places. Maybe it would have, sooner or later. Where it did happen was central Indo-Malaya, on an island a ways east of Bali. Even the maps didn’t give it a name. Harrison flew us in, by the way. Back then, we called him the Rookie. He was always one of us; remember that.”
He gave a smile that seemed wistful. “We were supposed to secure the local administrative center,” he said. “It was the only building made of stuff sturdy enough for the doors to be easier to go through than the walls. I sent one of my own men to secure the rear entrance. I decided to check. Just in case. The door was wide open.”
He pantomimed a pistol with his pointer finger. “One of them was in the room,” he said. “He probably saw me about as soon as I saw him. I took a moment to assess whether it was worth taking him for questioning. He actually called for his mates. That was answer enough. There was one more who came through the door. I took care of him. That was when the one with this came at me from inside. I could have got him with my carbine, of course, but I had to keep that door covered.”
He took back the flame knife. “I’ve said, amateurs are predictable, in their own way. They always think coming in a rush will make up for anything else. It might give them a 10, maybe 20 percent chance. If they’re clever, they’ll try quick, instinctive moves, or if they aren’t, they’ll just swing blind.” He pantomimed with the blade.
“The real problem when you’re the pro is, you get used to assuming the other guy knows as much as you do. Most of the time, it’s safer to be wrong. So, when I saw this thing, the first thing I thought was, that’s junk from Mindanao, and if he doesn’t know that, he’d have stuck himself already.” He tapped the blade three times on the glass. The lightest touch still made the grip rattle. “The other thing I figured was, that’s made for slashing, not stabbing, and if he can work that out, he’s coming in low. Maybe he saw that and changed his tack last second. I doubt it.”
He raised the blade point downward in a pose that would have drawn ridicule in a Weird Tales illustration. “This is how he did it. He couldn’t have known it would work. He got me just a little off the chin. That throws people off.” He tapped where the scar met his jaw line. “I caught him by the wrist. It wasn’t a tight hold, because he had a puffy sleeve. That’s when I said, let’s be reasonable. He just pushed up.” He traced the shape of the scar in mid air.
“What
really happened to him?” Jason asked.
“My people came in before any more of his showed up,” Moxon said. “The first one in was the same one who was supposed to secure the door in the first place. He popped off half a clip. He nearly got me along with the other guy. He didn’t go out with us again.”
There was a long silence. Finally, Jason said, “Alek says she knows the real story, about the scar. She told me they gave her your file to get her on board. Would they have told her about the rest?”
Moxon pondered the question. “She would know enough,” he said. “She knew about you, too, whatever she says. That’s how she’s always been. She would rather act dumb than be too smart with someone she really likes.”
“Maybe
that’s a survival trait,” Jason said. It got a braying laugh from Moxon. “And
don’t think you can play dumb, either. You talk like you know her, so why would
she know you?”
“Oh,
I meet lots of people,” he said. “Really, there aren’t that many people who get
to be what you’d call important without running into me sooner or later. With
her, it’s just a little closer.”
“Okay,” Jason said. “When did you meet her?”
“Now, it’s not that simple,” Moxon said. “She did a lot of things that got a lot of people interested in her very early on. She published her first paper at age 9. She got her first doctorate when she was 12. By 16, she was pulling down 7 figures. The problem was, she wasn’t a quick learner when it came to what to talk about. Her people thought she would be another Tanya. Our people were worried someone would take steps before she got that far. So, everybody agreed to send someone who could keep an eye on her. I volunteered.”
“So
I suppose you were her Fagan, too,” Jason said with a scowl.
“Your word, not mind,” Moxon said. “I’d say I was better than that to her. We’ve run into each other on the regular, no more than others. I mostly kept things hands-off. I talked to the right people to find out what she was up to. Now and then, I steered someone her way. Once or twice, I ran somebody off before she got into trouble.”
Jason
folded his arms. “What about me?” he said sternly.
“Now you were different,” Moxon said coolly. “You were pretty high profile already. Leastways, your family is. When she connected with you, there were people who were hoping to see it go further. They thought someone like you would finally get her under control. I told them to let it be. For what it’s worth, there was nobody else in the picture. The one they were talking about back on Earth, she hadn’t seen in eight months when she started writing to you. We gave Anastasia better odds than him.”
He smiled and held out the knife. “Now, why don’t you do what you’ve been thinking?” he said. “Take it, then take your best shot. I won’t guarantee I won’t fight back, but we both know you’d have a chance, if you’ve got it in you at all. But that’s the rub, isn’t it? You have ahimsa in your heart. Just about all of you farmboys do. To kill, even let someone take their own fall like you could have, just isn’t you. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, far from it.”
Jason
looked down at the knife. “Well, it’s like you said,” he spoke through clenched
teeth. With a backhanded slap, he knocked the weapon out of the officer’s hand.
“It’s junk from Mindanao.” Moxon’s smile spread. “How old are you, anyway?”
“He’s
53,” a voice called out. He turned to see Alek in the doorway. “Come. You,
leave him alone.”
He was relieved to follow her out. “You really did it, didn’t you?” Alek said. “You saved him, or leastways made sure. Nobody else knows, except maybe Donald.” She took his hand. “I’m proud of you, farmboy.”
That night, they slept in the zero-G quarters. The crew crowded together, while cartoons played at one-fourth volume. “I was thinking about something Moxon said,” he murmured to her. “He talked about killing a tiger to save a deer, and how that makes you responsible for the deer. Well, doesn’t that make you responsible for the tiger, too?”
Alek pressed a finger to his lips. “Listen to me,” she said in a flat voice. “Moxon was never going to die out there. You were never going to kill him. Do no worry. When we have to, we deal with him together.” She kissed him. Within bare moments, she was asleep.
A
while later, Jason raised his head at the sound of a familiar theme. Sure
enough, the opening of Major Maxon was playing. He realized it was the longer
version used for the first episode. As he watched, the fictional major wrestled
with an exotic-looking assailant in a turban. He was shown with two eyes
instead of his eyepatch. In the midst of the fight, Maxon caught hold of the
attacker’s wrist as he stabbed for his face. Sure enough, the weapon was a flame
blade.
He
snorted and drew his arms tighter around Alek. Soon, he too was asleep.
Table of contents
Part 7: Alternate universe pop culture!
Part 10: The domestic disturbance!!!
Part 12: The inevitable geography lesson!
Part 15: The bad guy backstory!
Part 17: The alternate history!
Part 18: The weapons exposition!
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