They Shall Not Pass (The Empire's Corps Book 12) Page 5

  But he couldn't stay this time.

  He cursed under his breath, torn between two imperatives. Part of him wanted to stay behind, to put command in the hands of Jasmine Yamane or General Crichton Mathis. He could do it, too; no one would question his orders. But the rest of him knew he had to go, he had to be with his men when they faced their gravest challenge. And yet, that meant leaving Gaby alone when she was pregnant ... and taking the risk he might never return. He’d survived over fifteen years as a marine, but that conferred no immunity to death. A stray bullet could end his life as surely as it could end the life of the rawest of recruits.

  Gaby rested her hand on his. “You can't stay,” she said, softly. “You’d torment yourself, ever after, over what might have happened if you’d been there.”

  “I’d be worrying about you too,” Ed said. It was silly, he knew; Gaby was a healthy young woman who would receive the very best of medical care. And yet he would worry ... he looked down at himself and laughed. Gaby wasn't a marine, but she’d fought hard against overwhelming odds for years. She didn't need him patronising her. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

  “As sure as I can be,” Gaby said. She touched her flat stomach lightly with her left hand. Ed watched, half-expecting to see a baby bump already there. “There’s seven months to go before the baby’s due, in any case.”

  Ed found himself lost for words. How did one be a good father? The young men he’d mentored had all been in their late teens or older, already formed by the time they were placed in his hands. He had no idea how to approach a child. It scared him on so many levels that he was tempted to run. And yet, the thought of just walking away was unthinkable. How many children on Earth had been lost to barbarity because they didn't have a strong and decent father-figure?

  “I can't stay,” he said, again. “Should we put the baby in an exowomb?”

  Gaby shook her head. “My family has always gone for natural births,” she said. Ed bit his tongue to keep from pointing out that there was nothing natural about modern medical treatment. “And besides, it’s not an option open to many families here.”

  Ed nodded in reluctant agreement. Exowombs had been common among the upper classes on Earth - they still were, amongst the Traders - but they were rare on Avalon. Gaby hadn't come from a rich family, either. She probably could get an exowomb, if she tried, yet it would look very bad politically. And it just wasn't like her to claim an advantage when so many others were denied it.

  “I have a son,” he breathed.

  “Or a daughter,” Gaby pointed out. “I didn't want them to tell me what was coming.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Would that bother you?”

  “On Earth, it would have done,” Ed said, honestly. It had been nearly seventeen years since he’d escaped the Undercity, but he still recalled the horrors he’d seen. When society collapsed, it was the girls who always got the worst of it. Rape and murder had been terrifyingly common, while suicide was the single biggest cause of death. “But on Avalon, it shouldn't be a problem.”

  It damn well wouldn't be, he resolved privately. Avalon took a much more practical view towards self-defence than Earth, where girls were denied anything they could use to fight back against the barbarians who infested the planet. His daughter would start learning to fight as soon as she could walk, training with daggers and pistols suited to a small pair of hands. If anyone tried to touch her, Ed was sure, it would be the last mistake he ever made.

  “That’s good,” Gaby said, dryly. “I wasn’t planning to check.”

  “I understand,” Ed said. “Do you want to tell everyone now?”

  Gaby touched her stomach, again. “I’ll have to inform the Speaker,” she said. “That’s written into the laws, Ed; if there's anything that might impede my ability to handle my duties, I’m to report it before it becomes a problem. But otherwise ...”

  She frowned. “Do you want to tell anyone now?”

  “I should inform Gwendolyn,” Ed said. His friend would need to know, if only so she could tell him off for being distracted. He wanted to shout the news across the entire Commonwealth, but it was really Gaby’s choice. Her opponents were the ones who would want to make hay out of the whole affair. “But otherwise ... I can wait.”

  “Tell her,” Gaby said. “But no one else, if you don’t mind. The doctor says everything is fine, but I’d prefer to wait until the pregnancy is well-established.”

  Ed blinked in surprise - pregnant women on Earth wanted everyone to know as soon as possible - but he had no real objections. It wasn't as if he had many people to tell, in any case. The people he met were largely his subordinates, even Gwendolyn. Gaby was the closest thing he had to an equal and she was technically his superior. But then, there were so many legal headaches caused by the Fall of the Empire that it was probably better not to look at the matter too closely.

  “I don’t mind,” he assured her. “It shouldn't be a problem.”

  “I don’t have anything to gain from an early announcement,” Gaby said. “I’ll make a short one when the bulge becomes noticeable.”

  “I won’t be here,” Ed said. He scowled at the wall. “I honestly don’t expect to be back for at least a year.”

  “I will endure,” Gaby promised. “And after that, it will be the end of my term.”

  “I know,” Ed said. He reached out and touched her belly, feeling nothing. Stupid, of course; the baby would be tiny right now, barely large enough to see. It would be months before the baby was large enough to kick, as his sisters had kicked before they’d been born. “You take very good care of yourself, all right?”

  “Of course,” Gaby said. Her mouth twisted in amused dismay. “But don’t treat me like a china doll either. I’m not that fragile”

  Ed nodded once, then kissed her, feeling a sudden burst of love and desire as her tongue entered his mouth. He wanted her, needed her. They wouldn’t see much of one another over the next two weeks anyway, no matter what happened. There was just too much to do, even though the military was now a well-oiled machine. He’d check everything himself, just in case. He was the one who would be on the sharp end, if the shit hit the fan.

  Gaby kissed him back as he climbed on top of her, reassuring himself that he couldn't hurt her or the baby. They’d made love countless times before she’d discovered she was pregnant. His hands traced her breasts as he slipped into her, her legs locking around him and pulling him close. He wondered, absently, just when their child had been conceived, then decided it didn't matter. Dating it all the way back to the first moments would be problematic. And then all rational thought was gone ...

  Afterwards, he watched her sleep, feeling an odd wave of protectiveness. Gaby didn't need his protection, not when she’d led an insurgency and then built a functioning government, but part of him just wanted to stay with her. And yet, he knew it was impossible. He couldn’t claim something he’d deny to any other marine under his command.

  And you might not be here when the baby is born, his thoughts mocked him. He rose, carefully tucking the blanket in around her body. Gaby was tough, but she was also pregnant ... he told himself not to be silly. It was the baby he was worried about, not her. What happens if there are ... complications?

  He swallowed as he padded into the small office, where he’d set up a computer terminal attached to the military network. Modern medicine could work miracles, compared to what his long-distant predecessors had had to endure, but complications happened ... particularly when people wanted them to happen. Gaby had enemies, powerful enemies; Admiral Singh, if no one else, had plenty of motive to try to arrange for an accident. He keyed the terminal, checking Gaby’s health records. No one had flagged an alert since she’d first been captured, in the closing days of the war ...

  Idiot, he told himself. She would have said if there was something very wrong.

  He closed the file and opened his personal file instead, digging up his will. It was an open question just how legal it was, these da
ys; large tracts of Imperial Law had been wiped from existence, in the Commonwealth, at the stroke of a pen. But he had never bothered to update his will, not when there was very little to give away. He had no family, no old friends who could be reached ...

  But that was no longer true.

  He looked at the standard form for a long moment. His possessions, such as they were, had been assigned to his company, although quite how that would work out when he’d been in command was beyond him. It wasn't as if he had very much in any case. His remaining bank balance would be shared out for beer money. Like almost every other careerist, he’d been content to allow it to grow while the corps had fed and watered him - he’d known he didn't want to invest, even if there hadn't been concerns about insider trading - and there was quite a tidy sum. It would take the remainder of his company a few weeks to drink their way through it. But now ...

  His hands danced over the keyboard, rewriting his will. The money would go to the baby, held in trust until he reached his majority. Or she, he reminded himself. The child could easily be a girl, rather than a boy. Boys tended to have an easier time of it on Earth, but even they could lose their lives in the blink of an eye. If he’d been a little weaker, or a little more aggressive, he would have died or become a gangster, to die when he grew old or stupid or ran into someone stronger and luckier than himself. But on Avalon, a little boy could grow into a proper man.

  He saved the file, then emailed a copy to Gwendolyn. She’d witness it, attach her e-signature and then send it back into the files. If something happened to him, the will would activate ...he hoped nothing would go wrong, but it was better to be sure. Right now, he had something more personal to live for than the corps - or the Commonwealth.

  Shaking his head, he rose to his feet and walked back into the bedroom. Gaby had shifted slightly in her sleep, her red hair spilling over the pillows. His heart almost stopped at the sight; he stared at her for a long moment, then climbed into bed next to her. She cuddled up to him in her sleep, rubbing against him. He wrapped an arm around her and closed his eyes.

  Sleep tight, he told himself. Tomorrow is another day.

  Chapter Five

  Unnecessary? The former council had already been arrested and removed from power, the governor had already agreed to concede the vast majority of the Cracker demands. Their desperate attempt to derail the slow shift against them - by striking directly at Camelot - risked everything. It could easily have pushed the governor into demanding harsh measures, instead of a political solution.

  - Professor Leo Caesius. The Role of Randomness In War.

  “I’m going to miss you,” Emmanuel said, as they lay together afterwards. “You only just got back!”

  Jasmine concealed her amusement, feeling an odd twinge of guilt. Emmanuel didn't know it, but he would be coming with her and the CEF. But she couldn't tell him, not when operational security came first. Far too many secrets had been blown because they’d been discussed openly, without regard for who might be listening in. She trusted Emmanuel, but she knew better than to take chances.

  “I’ll miss you too,” she said, as she climbed out of bed and headed towards the shower. “But we will see each other again.”

  She smiled to herself as she turned on the tap, washing her body clean, then shook her head ruefully. It wasn't as if they would be together on Corinthian, even though they would technically be on the same world. No wonder the Colonel believed Admiral Singh would underestimate the task before her, Jasmine considered, if she could imagine that Emmanuel and her would be close together. She’d been in enough campaigns to know that a mere five kilometres could be brutal, if they were guarded by trained and experienced soldiers with plenty of heavy weapons.

  The door opened. Emmanuel stepped into the shower. “It’s 0700,” he said. “When do you have to go?”

  “I have to be at the base for 0900,” Jasmine answered. She silently totted up the timing in her mind; half an hour for breakfast, half an hour to get to the base ... there would be plenty of leeway if something went wrong. “Did you hear anything from your superiors?”

  “I have to present myself at the main building at 0900,” Emmanuel said. He climbed into the shower, his hands running over her body. “Before then, we have to empty the apartment.”

  Jasmine nodded, curtly. The apartment block was really for visitors from the Commonwealth, not a lone marine and her boyfriend. Whatever happened, they wouldn't be coming back after they left the complex. Her possessions would be stowed away until she returned, or handled in accordance with her will if she died. She didn't want to think about the possibility, but a lifetime of experience had taught her that anyone could die. Blake Coleman had seemed untouchable until an explosion had blown his body to bits. They’d never found the remains.

  They made love with brutal urgency, washed again and then ate a simple breakfast before packing their bags. Neither of them had brought much, beyond a change of clothing and a pair of personal datapads. They’d have to go into storage too, Jasmine reminded herself. She was hardly the only marine to have a personal datapad, rather than a corps-issued terminal, but they posed another security risk. How many operations had been blown because a civilian-grade terminal had been turned into an unwitting spy?

  “I’ll see you soon,” she promised, once the plates were washed and left to dry. She had no intention of leaving the apartment in a mess. “And I hope the interview goes well for you.”

  Emmanuel shrugged. “I’ll have to go back into the office,” he said. “Quite a few of the scoops I had before you returned couldn't be printed, apparently for planetary security.”

  Jasmine had to smile. “They do have a point.”

  “I know,” Emmanuel said. He kissed her goodbye. “But who watches the watchmen who decide what threatens planetary security?”

  Jasmine contemplated the problem as she walked downstairs, passed through the security checkpoint and jogged towards the marine barracks at the far edge of Castle Rock. Who did decide what threatened planetary security? She’d always tended to be careful, when it came to deciding what could and what couldn't be reported, but she knew from bitter experience that the rules could be interpreted differently. Admiral Valentine had been quite happy to reveal sensitive operational data to the media - and she was sure the rebels on Han had been delighted - yet he’d clamped down hard on anything that might cast doubt on his military competence. Who knew what would have happened, how many lives would have been saved, if the idiot had been removed from command before the shit really hit the fan?

  She dismissed the thought as she stopped outside the barracks and pressed her hand against the scanner, allowing it to read the ID chip implanted in her palm. There was a long pause, then the door clicked, allowing her to push it open and step into the prefabricated building. It was the only place on Avalon that was solely for the marines, even though nearly a third of the company had died and another third had been distributed out to places where their skills could help build the Commonwealth. She scowled at the thought - there would be no new marines for years to come, even if they built a whole new Slaughterhouse - and then walked into the briefing room. Unlike so many others, it was reassuringly simple. A handful of chairs, a simple table and a projector. There was no need for fancy decorations in the corps.

  “Jasmine,” Lieutenant Joe Buckley called. “Welcome home!”

  Jasmine allowed herself a smile. Joe Buckley had been one of her first comrades, back when she’d joined the company. He’d had a terrible reputation for getting into scrapes, but a reasonably decent reputation for getting out of them afterwards. She shook his hand warmly, then glanced at the other marines. Rifleman Thomas Stewart had been with her on Meridian, but the other four were largely unknown to her. They'd been in other platoons during the deployment to Avalon and then assigned out to various posts before she’d taken command of 1st Platoon for the first time.

  “Thank you, Joe,” she said, seriously. “I thought you’d left us for a wife!�
�

  “The colonel called me back,” Joe said, without heat. “Seriously, I was getting bored of training the youngsters.”

  “And a bit repetitive,” Rifleman Henry Parkinson commented. “The training field was getting a little too organised.”

  “It isn't the bloody Slaughterhouse,” Buckley snapped. “There are limits to what we can do to the poor little mites.”

  Jasmine glanced at him. “Is there any prospect of getting a new Slaughterhouse?”

  “Not as yet,” Buckley said. “I think Colonel Stalker doesn't want to take that step.”

  “Understandable,” Rifleman William Randolph commented, darkly. “It would be a little like giving up.”