Starlight Gleaming Ch. 05

Then I slipped into the bedroom. Kicking off my deck shoes, I crawled onto the bed bedside her.

Janetta lifted her puffy, weepy face from her pillow and yelled, "Go away! See what you've done to me?"

I reached out for her arm but she surprised me by swinging out with a backhand across my face. The next instant I was on her and we grappled on the bed. I managed to grab her wrists, after she scratched my collarbone. "Janetta! Settle down!" I yelled.

"How can I be a fighter pilot with you fucking up my head?" she snapped. "You're a shit, Ranji! A shit complicating my life! I don't need this and I don't need you. Now get out of here!"

"You are a liar, Janetta," I growled. "Lying to me and to yourself." By dint of strength and weight I levered my body onto hers to hold her down. "I saw the measure of you earlier, and that was the honest truth we shared! You deny me now because you are afraid of what I mean to you. Well, be a warrior and face the truth!"

She snarled and leaned up, giving a head butt to my cheek, then latching her teeth onto my shoulder. She bit down, hard. I grabbed her hair and yanked, trying to dislodge her. She bit harder and it burned.

"Fuck that hurts! I love you, Janetta, but you are sorely pressing my patience! Owww!"

Janetta laughed as she chewed on me, still trying to free her hands.

It hurt like anything but I was also getting pissed. "You can have more of what we had earlier tonight, or you can be the stone-cold warrior who looked at love and ran away -- in fear! Will you quit biting me? It's your choice, Janetta! Ouch! Kali's throbbing cunt!"

Janetta suddenly released my shoulder as she howled with laughter. I pulled my shoulder out of reach of her mouth. My blood smeared her lips.

Exasperated, I asked her, "Why does my pain make you laugh? You're thinking about Chingli Point when you burned my ass, aren't you? Right now you are acting like a crazy bitch--"

"That's Bitch Queen to you," she corrected, glaring.

I nodded. "Have it your way. Tonight was more than just sex, Janetta. For both of us. I can't believe how much I want you, how much I want to be with you. I say it again. I love you. You are beautiful and smart, and the smart is what keeps me coming back. You picked up on the change in your people right away. But you totally mishandled it. I came to offer you comfort, but obviously you don't want that. Fine. I'm going to let you go and I'm getting up. No more fighting." I pushed away and scrambled off the bed. Going into the closet, I grabbed my uniforms and shoes.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"You told me to go away and get out. Drew blood from me to make your point. Since I'm not sleeping here -- at your insistence -- I need to get my gear for work tomorrow. " I reached for the duffle on the floor and one of her knives hit the wall next to me. The blade sliced open the back of my hand.

I dropped my uniforms and grabbed my wrist. "Seven Hells, Janetta! Fuck, that hurts!"

"If I wanted to, I could have killed you," she hissed.

"Maybe. Maybe not." I raised my hand, nodding to it. "This was totally unnecessary. I was already leaving." I glanced at my uniforms. Blood dripping down on them made them unfit for wear. I grabbed my ID lanyard and wallet, stuffing them into my shorts. Then I put pressure back on my wrist as I slipped into my deck shoes. "I'll come back for my stuff later."

Janetta jumped up from the bed. "Kandikan! Come on! Fight me!"

I yanked open the door and strode out. She didn't deserve an answer. This wasn't a woman arguing with me. Right now she was a small girl who had loved and lost the most important person in her life, her father, and she was now afraid to openly risk her heart again. My hand burned worse than my shoulder, and if I stopped to argue, I'd lose my temper.

"Kandikan!"

In the living room, Cholan glanced up from the computer, then flung off her headphones and barreled across the room, running for me. I was almost at the door when she grabbed my arm.

"Lieutenant! Stop! Sweet Jade Goddess, what has she done to you?"

Zinja chose to come back in from outside, blocking my exit. Ixma, behind her, put her hands to her mouth in surprise.

"Excuse me, ladies. I need to head over to the commissary before it closes."

The door to the bedroom slammed and I could hear Janetta swearing and sobbing. Declaring her opinion on the worthlessness of men, and me in particular.

"Get a towel, Cholan." Zinja didn't ask, she just unbuttoned my shirt and peered inside. Then traced around the deep scratches on my collarbone. "Not so bad. The hand though -- we'd better get you over to the infirmary. It'll need to be checked for tendon damage. "

Cholan quickly grabbed a kitchen towel and handed it to Zinja.

"Cholan, stay here," she continued. "Keep an eye on our officer. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. Sit on her if you have to. Ixma, get in the HueCac." Zinja took the towel from Cholan and wrapped it tight over my hand, then gripped my arm. "Come on, Sir. With me."

"A moment. Cholan, don't say anything to her about this. She either comes to me on her own or she doesn't, but it has to be her choice or she'll never heal."

Obviously troubled, Cholan nodded.

Zinja tugged at my arm. "Lieutenant? Your bandage is soaking through. I can carry you, but I'd rather not."

The HueCac was parked beside the house. We got in, Zinja flipped on the lights and control panel, and soon we were zipping silently down the dark street.

"What do you need at the Commissary, Lieutenant?"

"New uniform for work tomorrow."

"Tell Ixma your sizes. Class B Summer okay? And you have a charge card? Good. Give it to her. Ixma, call me when you are done."

Three minutes later, we dropped Ixma off and sped off into the darkness.

* * * * *

I was in the infirmary for four hours. There were X-rays and micrographic imaging sets to do, then tissue regen and nu-skin patches on my hand, shoulder, and collarbone. Three units of nu-plasma because I was running low. Inquiries about what happened and paperwork. Disagreement with girlfriend, and no, I didn't want to press charges. Then they saw I was new to the area and there were fifteen boosters I suddenly needed, as the Seven Nations had some traffic with Atlantis and there were diseases to be protected from. Four of the shots I had to take in the ass. Based on the grin from the nurse, I wasn't so sure they really had to be taken there or whether she just wanted to see my bare butt. Some people like their job too much. The nurse then drily asked if I wanted a rabies shot, "just to be sure." I declined.

When they finally released me, Second Sergeant Zinja was sitting tiredly on a hideous, worn gray couch in the Waiting Room. Corporal Ixma lay curled up beside her mother, sound asleep. Hanging on the back of the couch was a new uniform in protective clear plastic and a pair of dress shoes. As I approached them, I was struck by both the differences and resemblances between mother and daughter. Both were lean and small-breasted with dark brown hair tied in back, and strong, handsome faces. Ixma, like me, had blue eyes, and because of her father, was of lighter complexion.

Zinja stood and straightened out her uniform. "Home, sir?"

Ixma sat up tiredly, yawning as she rubbed her eyes.

I debated mentally a half-second. Four hours last night and none tonight. At least I had a pack of stim-tabs along with an analgesic topical from the nurse. "No. It's too late for me to get sleep and be of any use today. Drop me off at the cafeteria. I'll get some food, then I'll dress and head to work early. You're free to join me. My treat?"

The sergeant shook her head. "Tempting, but I might need to do some damage control at home. Then we have make sure her craft is serviced and ready for her flight. You coming back tonight?"

"Just to get my things."

Zinja looked sad. "Understandable, sir. I hope her pride isn't stronger than her heart."

"When she's ready, she has my phone number. And Sergeant, I still want that list of supplies from you." Until Janetta decided, I intended to honor my role to take of all of them.

She flashed a look of surprise, then nodded approvingly. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

A short time later, I was dropped off outside the cafeteria. Aside from Security and the Infirmary, it was the only building that was open twenty-four hours a day. Once inside, I headed straight to the latrine to change. Hanging within the shirt was a bag on the hanger. Inside was deodorant, depilatory cream, toothbrush and toothpaste, a box with sublieutenant pips, as well as my charge card. I smiled, pleased by her efforts. Corporal Ixma had been thorough.

I ate enough protein to curb the hunger but not enough to make me sleepy. I also bought a huge thermos filled with hot cahault, the chocolate coffee drink I had come to love. I'm sure the price of the thermos was three times the retail cost, but I was in a mood. It had taken a lot to not lose my temper with Janetta, but one of us had to keep our head, hadn't we? Compounding things for her, Janetta unwillingly but dutifully provided sex to her commanding officers to protect Zinja, Ixma, and Cholan, and probably for other reasons as well. Walling off emotions to deal with repeated traumatic experiences was known as Zinder Syndrome. It was a way to cope. Sometimes recovered prisoners of war showed this behavior, and I was coming to regard forced sex as being similar.

I arrived at work and checked in. It was nearly Third Hour. For the first hour at my desk, I researched medical journals from the Imperial intranet for more on Zinder Syndrome. After that, I switched gears and started my actual work for the day. By Seventh Hour, though, my hand ached from typing, so I broke for a large snack and to apply the topical the nurse dispensed to me.

I processed more forms, and on a whim, set my computer to tally the number of HueCacs arriving, along with delivery dates and shipment and/or destruction date. When lunch arrived, I put in a call to the Quartermaster and inquired about lodging. No space was available I was informed, but for the "appropriate consideration," something might be found. Of course, for nine hundred credits, I could get a cottage. My monthly pay was only seven hundred twenty. I inquired about what kind of consideration was needed. A processing and expedite fee of only two hundred credits and I could have the dorm room I had turned down the night before. And the fee had to be in cash. No charge card, and it couldn't be assigned to payroll for deduction. I would be there after work, I said.

And finally, the shift was over. I stopped by the Commissary and withdrew the cash and went to the Quartermaster's Office to pay my "processing fee." I held out hope that Janetta would see reason and that this was all to be temporary. Then I walked back to West Seashell Lane.

All four women were gone when I entered. Janetta was on her patrol and her crew were at the hangar. I found the list of supplies from Zinja on the breakfast bar. On the reverse, I discovered a short note from her.

"Thank you, again, sir," she wrote. "When our Lieutenant came out this morning, she stared at Ixma cleaning up the blood and said that she hadn't meant to hurt you. She refused breakfast, but I'll see that she has something in her cockpit. I drove Ixma to the laundromat, and she was able to get your uniforms clean. Removing blood is not that difficult, so laundry and cooking are apparently two things you know little about. No disrespect intended, sir. - SSgt Zinja."

I found both duffles packed and on Janetta's bed. I collected them and left.

My heart ached, but this had to be done. By her own words, I had already proved myself to Janetta. I wanted what she was freely willing to give. Once upon a time I had contemplated just taking her, but the look in her eyes when Hansha Zlatl was taking against her will stopped that notion cold. I'd not do that to her.

Rape. The Atlantean women advocating the right to say no had coined the word, and defined it as sex against your will. They made videos that were aired between entertainments. A few Atlantean men were even starting to publicly show support for the cause. The fact that the vids were airing at all was remarkable. I could do rough sex, but not against her will. On the other hand, I'd not let Janetta hurt me again like she did. I needed her to admit she loved me, but I would also have to require her apology if it wasn't offered. Not addressing it openly tacitly condoned the violence, and that I wasn't willing to agree to. Love had to include respect for each other.

I stopped at the Commissary and placed the list of requested supplies at the Customer Service desk, with instructions for delivery the next morning before Tenth Hour. Another two hundred credits on the charge card. I grabbed some food from the deli, eating as I walked to Bachelor Officers Compound. With four hours sleep in thirty six, I was increasingly detached as I moved along. My duffles landed on the floor by my bed. I remembered to set my alarm. Next the shoes came off and I collapsed on top of the narrow cot, laying back to take a breather. I closed my eyes for just a moment.

* * * * *

Over the next few days, I kept in touch with what was happening by intranet mail with Zinja. Each of the three superpowers -- Chimorro, Atlantis, and Aesir-Veda -- maintains its own intranet, used by them and their respective allies. People have talked about opening it up for worldwide use, but the political roadblocks remain formidable. The outside news we get is what is broadcast by radio or by tele-video. It's all monitored, of course. Every communication is censored for sensitive or illegal activities. That meant that Zinja and I didn't refer to Janetta by name when we talked of her, but referred to her as our "injured eagle." Women warriors were allowed to have lovers, but it didn't do well for officers to parade it openly. Enlisted could be marked by an officer as I had done for Ixma, as enlisted came from the lower classes, and their continued status as Warrior Caste was provisional upon participation in some heroic action. Those who served at least twenty years would receive a pension, but they would also return to their former social class on exiting the military. There was the option to apply for Guild Caste, but one had to have proven skills, a guild sponsor -- which often entailed money -- and a demonstrated need for the skills wherever they mustered out.

I missed Janetta, of course. Or, more accurately, hungered for her. But she had denied her feelings to me and to her team, so she would have to come to some sort of decision on her own. I would fight for her, but I wouldn't fight Janetta herself for the right to fuck her. Janetta had made it clear she really wanted the right to say no to any man demanding sex. Assuming I won such a fight -- and she was scarily good with knives -- for me to fight her for sex would make me like the other men who took her against her will. And that could all too easily become a reason for her to eventually despise me.

In regards to women, my father had been very wise. A woman who shows she wants you is heady stuff. I had grown up seeing the respectful way my father, Arjun, and mother, Shanti, dealt with each other, and when they thought no one was watching, the looks of desire they shared. In the evenings, they willingly spent hours talking together over a host of topics. I was allowed to participate, but soon learned it instructive to simply listen to their reasoned debates. Periodically, one or the other would pause and query me for my understanding. From them, what I learned not only deepened my curricula, but I also learned what was possible between men and women. I wanted that with Janetta.

Zinja sent me supply requests every three or four days, and after the first purchase, I got myself assigned my own HueCac from motor pool. I was in Logistics after all! I used the vehicle to drop off their goods during the late afternoons while they were at the hangar. I added some sweets and extra millet beer, and Zinja was succinct in her thanks.

It was in the electronic mail that I learned a bit about Sergeant Zinja herself. A farm girl from Oexeca on the northeast coast of the Inland Sea, she was the sole survivor of a particularly vicious attack by Atlantean raiders. After the men had finished with her, they had left her for dead. Zinja had dentures on the left side where her teeth were broken off. The other reminder of that event, of course, was Ixma. Because there was no other close family remaining alive, she had decided to keep her daughter. "Babes care not about the circumstances of their conception. They learn to value what they are taught. Having that girl in my life saved me more times than I can say," she wrote. Zinja didn't go into further details, and it was plain she loved her daughter intensely.

A couple of events happened over the next month while I waited to hear from Janetta. The first was an interview with Security, three days after I'd moved into the BOC. They talked to me for several hours about the incident with the ET. After they tried to shake my account of the events, they backhandedly said I had acted correctly to keep quiet, and that the Empire was dealing with the issue. In the meantime, I was informed, the report from all three of the crew had spoken well of me, and combined with some notes from my time at Tikun, I could opt to take the exams for Lieutenant in a year instead of the usual two. Which got me to thinking about my former Senior Sergeant again.

The second thing was I bought a portable comp for Ixma and loaded it up with a few popular vids, a music player, and the classics of literature, but also with several tutorial programs in math, as well as computer and physical science. I didn't know what she might be interested in, so I selected starters in astronomy, geology, oceanography, zoology -- the works. Janetta had her own comp of course, but the others shared the one in the living room, and odds were that Cholan, as the electronics master, would be using it a lot. Zinja, with her pay, could have provided the basics of an education to her daughter, but likely not much more.

By the second week of living in my shared room, I was feeling pretty down. I had accumulated a lot of leave time, so I put in for five days at the end of the month. Either I'd bask in the glory of Janetta's charms, or I'd hop a flight and visit my parents. I hadn't seen them in eight months. Yes, I did the vid calls and electronic mail to my parents, but it's not the same, now is it?

And as the days began to drag by, I heard that Janetta was suffering as much as I was, but from her highness herself I heard not one word. At the start of the third week, I looked up her mail address and sent her a message that said, "Call me when you are ready to talk," and my personal phone number. No reply.

As my impending leave drew near, I asked Ixma to meet me at the Commissary for lunch. I bought her meal, and then presented her with a charge card, with both our names on it. She was stunned, but I explained I was going on leave for a few days, and it would be better if they needed anything, they could come down and get it rather than trying to get a hold of me or having to wait.

"I also want you to get something for you and the others. Something not food or functional. Clothing would be good, but it has to be civilian. Something you can wear that you can relax in. A vid or a music disc. Whatever. You choose."

"Sir?"

"I want you to have some fun, and I want you to spread the fun around a bit. You can spend a hundred credits each -- a hundred fifty tops, but get the others something you think they'd enjoy."

"Thank you, sir," she answered. "You already bought me the comp. That's so much already!"