Josiah West 1: Kaleidoscope (16 page)

Something was after him. Until he knew what it was
, he could only hide in a doorway and stick his head out for brief looks down the dark hallway. He had an idea; he took the two steps to the weapons locker next to the pilot’s seat and removed a Mills 3mm.

Something wa
s touching him; there was nothing there.

Fire started to spread up his legs; there was nothing there.

A distant voice from far down the endless hallway called his name, “West, we’re here; if you c--”

He jumped into the middle of the hallway and started shooting.

PAIN…darkness…quiet…

Something was very familiar about this place. He remembered that gentle stream from somewhere…he couldn’t remember. The gravel path was the same as…as…he couldn’t remember.

The weather was perfect with a few puffy clouds turned pink in the setting sun; there was a taste of cotton candy in his mouth. There were pine trees, maple trees, and oak trees scattered over the gently rolling landscape. He walked past a table that had his old chess set in the middle of it. When he looked back, Marty and Kenny were sitting at the table playing a game of checkers; they had always loved checkers.

The path seemed to continue for as far as he could see down the valley between the mountain ranges…something about mountain ranges…he couldn’t remember. It was so peaceful, and it felt so good to just stroll along without a wonder or care in the world.

PAIN…darkness….

He was back on the path, but the gravel had turned to dirt, the trees were dead and there was a pain that felt like his whole body was on fire.

“West, you’re going to be ok.”

“Di…muhmm…you….”

“I think s…”

The weather was perfect as he strolled slowly along the gravel path and smelled the fields of wild flowers that he passed. He hoped that this path wrapped around the Earth. He looked behind him; the path and all of the land around it was empty of people. Well, that was ok; he liked the peace and quiet.

He didn’t know how long ago it was that he thought about there not being anyone else around…a few minutes…yesterday…a year ago…he couldn’t remember; it didn’t matter in this place of endless peace and beauty. But now, there was someone ahead of him.

Someone was sitting on a bench facing the stream; he…almost looked familiar. As Josiah got closer, the man on the bench stood up, straightened his jacket, and saluted.

Josiah looked down and realized that he was wearing his uniform; he returned the salute.

The man from the bench was a Marine and quite a bit older than Josiah. He had the stripes of a Master Chief Gunnery Sergeant. The stack of combat ribbons topped with two sets of wings over his left breast pocket probably eliminated the need for him to ever pay for his own beer.

“Good morning, Lieutenant; have a seat.”

Josiah looked around the quiet, pastel landscape, “Thank you, Sergeant, it has been a long walk.”

The Sergeant was as tall as Josiah, but he looked to have another fifteen kilos of solid muscle on him. His hair was mostly gray with a bit of brown and done in the close cut that combat troops preferred. He was wearing the dark, forest green daily dress uniform that the Marines had phased out forty years ago.

They sat and talked for…he couldn’t remember. The light never seemed to change; time never seemed to occur. He couldn’t remember what they talked about…except….

The Sergeant had his elbows on his knees and was bent over staring at the ground, “The worst part was when they said I was too old to go on anymore missions and retired me. Years later, when I was reactivated,” he turned his head to give Josiah a sad smile, “I thought they needed me again, but they said I couldn’t have any weapons and took everything I had.” He sat back up, “Since then, I’ve been looking tough and impressive and carting the brass around.”

“West…West…can you hear me?”

Josiah looked at the Sergeant, “Did you hear something?” The air seemed cooler.

The Sergeant
stood up, and Josiah joined him. There was a cold breeze picking up.

The Sergeant took Josiah’s hand and gave it a firm grip, “Lieutenant, I want to thank you for giving me that last bit of pride and making my last day something that will be remembered. Always know that I gave you everything I had.” He braced to attention and saluted Josiah once more before turning and walking away down the path.

“West…Josiah…take deep breaths.” That voice was annoying.

Josiah called after the Sergeant, “Sergeant, who are you; what’s your name?”

The Sergeant stopped, turned, and said, “Hart Industries hull number 4P1167D. You know me as Kaleidoscope, sir.”

“West…it’s very important that you take deep breaths right now.”

Where the hell was that voice coming from?

He took a deep breath, then another. The landscape behind him was getting darker and kind of blurry. When he looked back, the Sergeant was gone.

“That’s good, now a couple of more deep breaths.”

Who the hell is that?

He started breathing deeply. The scene faded away, and he started to feel dull aches everywhere. He started to panic. He looked down at his right hand; someone was holding it, but no other hand was there.

“Relax, Josiah; you’re going to be ok. You’re at the
Wheeling Medical Center in Atlanta. I’m Doctor Anita Balistra.”

He wasn’t feeling very good. He seemed to be floating face down and couldn’t feel much except the overall ache. His vision was blurry, and there was something wrong with his left eye. He thought he could see a face be
hind a shield looking up at him--a woman staring back at him, an image of a red circle over a mountain range, warnings, noise--the memory came roaring back, “Hhh…ow…maanny.”

Doctor Balistra anticipated the line of questions in his mind, “Kaleidoscope crashed on the south slope of the mountains; virtually all of the Hahn Station dropped onto the north side. Best estimates put
the death toll at just over 58,000,” he felt his mind starting to freeze just as Balistra saw the monitor indicating the rising heart rate; she squeezed his hand, “but the lowest estimate on lives that you saved is three million.”

That seemed to help, “You have been here for three months in a series of tanks and grav-slings. Right now, you are still a mess, but things are going well, and you have my word that we will put you back together; you will walk out of here.

“Your wife is in a suite down the hall getting the best medical attention on the planet.” Josiah thought he could see a smile through the blur. “You should be in good enough shape to greet your daughter the day she’s born. Nora haunts me daily but you’re not in any condition to receive guests.”

She squeezed his hand again, “West, I never thought I’d ever talk to the President of the
United States. Now, I’ve met him three times. I’ve never met a four star admiral before. Now, I have one calling me every day for a briefing and visiting me every week. I’ve never talked to a newsy before. Now, I give them a daily briefing and the Atlanta hotel system is overrun with them. It’s like this facility has become a focal point for the world. When you walk out that door, you had better be prepared for what you have done.”

She did something to something, “For now, sleep.”

Darkness…peaceful darkness.

The general babble in the crowded room quieted down as Doctor Balistra entered and mounted the podium.

“This is an advisory briefing only; there will be no questions taken. I have already briefed Lieutenant West’s wife and family, President Stanis, President Chiang, and Admiral Jacks.”

She began reading from a prepared statement, “At 2PM EST this afternoon, the medical team here at the
Wheeling Medical Center reduced the dosage level of dissociative psychoactive drugs with which we have been maintaining an active mental state in the brain of Lieutenant West. His reaction to regaining consciousness was entirely normal for a person in his situation. I talked to him for a couple of minutes before returning him to a closed state of awareness. He was able to verbalize two words after I informed him of where he was and how long he had been here; I understood those words as ‘how many’.”

Balistra paused for a second and took a deep breath before continuing, “I believe, and the rest of the team concurs, that the first rational thought that Lieutenant West had after a moment to adjust to the return to reality was to ask how many people had died.”

The noise level rose in the room, and Balistra had to hold her hand up to quiet them, “I told him. The medical monitors indicated that he had a bad reaction to that information, but when I told of the lives he saved, it appeared to calm him.

“We now believe that the worst is behind us. The obvious clarity in Lieutenant West’s mind confirms our indirect monitoring, and we are all breathing a sigh of relief. We fully expect to have him off of major life support equipment in two weeks and off of all support in four weeks. Thank you.”

Several of the newsies jumped up as she turned to leave. The dominant question that was shouted at her was, “When can we talk to him?”

She decided to take that one before she left the room, “At least six weeks as far as I’m concerned, but, in the end, it’ll be up to him.” She left the room with them still shouting questions at her back.

The 100 kilometer drop from the lift platform above the Cuban Regional Recreational Preserve was always fun. Admittedly, that early edge of fear that came with the first few times was gone, but the running jump over the side of the platform still put a grin on Josiah’s face. He adjusted the isolation and balance levels on the survival suit’s GS harness to a moderate 70kph fall and a reclined sitting position. Nora did likewise and slid up beside him.

He pulled the picnic basket over, found an egg salad sandwich for Nora, and handed it across the table to her, “I am really going to miss these picnics. Doctor Balistra said something about going somewhere else…I can’t remember where.”

Nora put her free hand on his, “I know, but I’ll be there.”

They sat in the shade of a huge oak tree and watched as the Marines practiced in a field near them. One of the assault boats crashed, and the Marines started chasing the pilot after they all crawled out of the wreck. Josiah pointed the little finger of the hand that was holding his sandwich, “They still don’t seem to have their pilot training program up to what it should be.”

Someone touched his right hand; he thought it was Nora but both of hers were occupied with her sandwich.”

“Josiah, take deep breaths.”

No, not now!

He took a deep breath and reached out to Nora, but she was looking at the Marines.

“More deep breaths; that’s good.”

He took another deep breath and tried to get Nora’s attention. He didn’t want to go.

This time the face wasn’t behind a shield, and it was on the same level as his.

“Doctor…Balistra…I…pre
…sume?” Josiah managed to get out. Coming out of those drugs left his mind a little gummy. “To…what…do…I…owe…this…rude…intr…usion…into…my…dreams?”

He was lying on his right side in a grav sling. She was sitting on a chair next to it with her smiling face close to his, “You are now completely off of support equipment with just a couple of IV drips and a liberal coating of bio-mat gel left.” Her smile lost some of its intensity, “I’m afraid that it is now time for you to return to stark reality. How do you feel?”

His vision was still a bit blurry, but both of his eyes were now sharing the blur. He pointed them both at her as best he could, “You’re…kid…ding…right?”

Her grin had a distinct impression of relief behind it, “Your right arm and hand are in good shape,” she indicated a small shelf and a cup with a straw next to the sling, “here is something to drink in case your mouth gets dry; it tastes like strawberries.” She sat up and waved at someone, “I think Nora wants to talk to you.”

Nora eased her unusual bulk into the chair that Doctor Balistra had just vacated.

He managed a small smile through the lighter drug haze, “You’re…fat.”

She had been crying; she had, probably, been crying a lot. She took his good hand in both of hers and held it to her cheek, “Yeah, well, you caused it.”

“I…had…help.”

They remained that way for a couple of minutes just absorbing the fact that they were getting to see each other again.

Those dark eyes were so beautiful, “Sor…ry…I’m…late. Some…thing…came…up.”

A few minutes later, Doctor Balistra leaned over and put her hands on Nora’s shoulders, “He’s asleep now; we should leave.”

Nora stopped in the monitor room next to Josiah’s sling chamber and looked at the wall of electronics and the two techs that always seemed to be there. She turned to the shorter, gray haired Doctor, “You need some sleep yourself, Anita.”

Balistra cast a longing glance at the cot in a shadowed corner at the back of the room and then back to Nora, “I think I might take you up on that.” She put her arm around Nora’s shoulders and steered her toward the door, “The fact that he fell asleep on his own is a good sign. It means that his normal biological and psychological functions are working.”

She stopped and turned to Nora when they reached the hall. “That crap we’ve been pumping through him to keep his mind active and inclined toward a sense of happiness would make a freight train take a dirt road if we used it in a healthy person. Rebuilding a body is not that much of a problem these days.” Balistra leaned, tiredly, against the wall, “Keeping an isolated mind from going insane is where the fun begins.” She smiled at a thought, “I have a skull-thumper two floors up that is wearing a path in his carpet he is so anxious to talk to Josiah about his experiences under the drugs.” She pushed herself away from the wall, “You go get some lunch, and some rest. I don’t need two more patients on my hands. Be back here tomorrow at noon.”

Nora finished wiping her eyes before hugging Balistra, “Thanks, Anita, thanks for everything.”

She returned the hug with a smile, “Well, it is my job, and wait until you see the paper I’m going to write.”

She stood for a few seconds and watched Nora waddle off down the hall before turning back into the monit
or room and heading for the cot. “Wake me in an hour.” she said as she passed the nearest tech.