Eric Spears

Stepping off the shuttle to New Rome in the summer was like getting slapped in the face with a big wet blanket.

Looking up and seeing clouds, gray puffs, tinged with silver, was the first thing Eric saw. It was going to rain, and it would probably make it more humid if that was possible. The sun was setting but Eric didn’t feel tired. He had received notification of an available room in the Marine transient barracks. As a senior Marine with over twenty-five years' experience he got a much higher priority. The Republic military forces maintained barracks and facilities in nearly every city and station. The primary reason was so that facilities were available if needed for operations. Robots and civilian contractors maintained the facilities. If there was space available active-duty military personnel could use the facilities, free of charge. It encouraged military personnel to travel and see different parts of the Republic. Some facilities were also available to retired personnel on a limited basis.

As the capital of the Leonis Republic, New Rome was built to be glorious and awe inspiring. The extensive military facilities in New Rome always had availability and there was a lot to see and do in the capital city. The nearby mountains and tropical beaches also provided plenty of tourist attractions, from climbing to scuba diving. The night life of New Rome was well known and attracted visitors from out of system. Surrounding the space port, military and civilian portions, were countless bars and shops, competing like ravenous piranha to separate people from their credits. All manner of drone, police, delivery, news, advertising and even the occasional civilian drone cluttered the skies outside the port. Even later on a Saturday the space port was moving at full swing, with hundreds of thousands of people coming and going, shuttles constantly landing and taking off.

The military part of the spaceport had fewer luxuries. Instead of sliding up and linking to a nice air-conditioned terminal the shuttle parked near a maintenance bay and passengers were sent a link with directions and instructions. Well marked paths led the on and off duty personnel to their destinations. Eric wasn’t sure but he thought the shuttle parked in the same place it had the first, and last, time he had been to New Rome, but the instructions were the same.

“Sun hasn’t even set yet,” Hansen said. “Let's ditch our overnights in the rooms. I know this great club not far away.”

Eric nodded.

Hansen had helped him with the drone rankings so the least he could do was hang out with Hansen for a bit. Marines were supposed to travel in pairs and being a boring spoiled sport did not appeal to Eric.

“Ever been to the Rock Republic?” Hansen asked.

Eric shook his head as they walked toward the transient barracks which was a building that straddled the space port and nearby city. The barracks would act as an entrance and exit to and from the space port for most people.

“What kind of clubs do you like?” Hansen asked.

“Not really into the club scene,” Eric said.

Hansen raised an eyebrow as he looked at Eric.

“What do you do with your free time then?” Hansen asked.

Eric shrugged.

“VR Games,” Eric said. “Work toward certifications, improve my ranking, lots of reading.”

Hansen rolled his eyes.

“You married?” Hansen asked and Eric answered with a frown.

“Girlfriend?” Hansen asked. “Boyfriend?”

Eric shook his head.

Hansen stopped, making Eric stop and look at him.

“You do have an interest in sex right? You aren’t some celibate virgin are you?” Hansen asked.

Eric stopped and looked at Hansen with a raised eyebrow.

Yes, he was a virgin. But Hansen didn’t need to know that. The interest was there but Hansen didn’t need to know that either.

“I’ve been a Marine for over twenty-five years. Seriously,” Eric said, unwilling to lie, but unwilling to tell Hansen the truth.

Hansen shrugged as he turned to keep walking.

Eric kept his relief a secret.

“You okay with going to a club then?” Hansen asked.

“Sure,” Eric said. That might have been a lie, but not a serious one.

“You drink?” Hansen asked.

“It has never been my thing,” Eric said.

“Then why did you want to come to New Rome?” Hansen asked giving Eric an odd look.

“Why not?” Eric said. “Thought it might be interesting.”

Hansen nodded.

* * * * * * *

Hansen led Eric into a bar called Rock Republic. The walls were covered with pictures of people Eric didn’t recognize but were obviously some music bands. A lively techno-rock beat was causing the walls to vibrate and made listening difficult.

Only a few people were present. A waiter glanced over at them from where he was sitting on a stool talking to the bartender. They weren’t using robots which gave it a nice touch. After another minute of conversation the waiter sauntered over. He was wearing a tight leather outfit with spikes and metal studs on it.

“How ya doin?” he asked looking down at them. A local service link provided a menu but there was also a menu posted above the bar. Very retro. A large open area might be a dance floor but there was nobody there.

“What can I get you?” the waiter asked.

Eric hadn’t planned on drinking anything alcoholic but he didn’t see anything else and Eric had no idea what anything else on the list was. Without having acquired a taste for alcohol, Eric looked over the menu for something he could stomach, or at least recognize as tolerable. Maybe some day he could find a drink he liked. Now might be the time to start sampling the variations to find something he liked.

“Vodka,” Hansen said, yelling to be heard above the noise.

Looking at the menu he wasn’t sure how to say ‘Absinthe’ and the next item down on the list was ‘After Dark.’

“After Dark,” Eric yelled.

Hansen looked at Eric and raised an eyebrow as the waiter head off to get their drinks.

Eric shrugged.

“You know what that is?” Hansen asked and Eric shook his head.

Nodding Hansen went back to looking around.

“Do you?” Eric finally asked.

“Nope,” Hansen said.

Less than a minute later the drinks arrived. Eric took a tentative sip and winced. Nope. The ‘After Dark’ was not going to be his drink of choice.

Looking around Eric wondered what the attraction was. Screens on a couple walls showed music bands singing, he assumed the song he was hearing. The lips might have matched what he was hearing all the way to his lower intestines. A service link was available that would provide the name of the band, and a link to their music, but Eric wasn’t that interested.

“Good music,” Hansen yelled, and Eric nodded as he looked around. The bar was obviously trying to recreate a time period but Eric wasn’t sure what it was. The current band was playing something about a kid having nightmares or running from a wheeled contraption and there was something about a sand man. It had a nice beat but the flashing images on the screen were hard to keep track of and understand.

Bobbing his head, Eric wondered if he would notice when his drink kicked in. It had been a very long time since he tried drinking, maybe a decade. He was half tempted to pull up the alcohol content of the drink and analyze his blood alcohol content, a function of his Marine implanted cybernetics but that would feel like cheating and lessening the experience.

Was this it? The noise was too loud to have a conversation. Hansen was bobbing his head and looking around.

“It must still be early. It usually isn’t this quiet,” Hansen yelled.

Quiet? Eric nodded and took another sip. Any louder and he might suffer permanent hearing damage. With nothing to do but look around Eric felt a need to be active. Since the only activity really available was to move his drink from the table to his mouth Eric found he was almost finished. The taste had not grown on him though but the need to be active had.

Two other guys came in and found a seat on the other side.

The waiter came back and pointed at Eric’s drink. It was nearly gone.

“Another one?” the waiter yelled.

A glance at Hansen’s drink showed that Hansen was only halfway through his.

“How about an Alpha Centauri?” Eric asked, the next drink on the list. The waiter nodded and disappeared. Hansen appeared not to notice and Eric glanced around to see what he was watching. A pair of women had come in. The were dressed in moderately revealing, skin tight clothes, but they made a bee line to the table with the two guys that had come in early.

Eric’s drink arrived as another band took center state on the displays. Slightly less retro the newer band on the screens was screaming about shredding robots with gatling guns and toe nail clippers, or something like that. The beat and energy was similar to the first one but Eric got the impression the band was from the time of the AI wars. Eric still wasn’t interested enough to check the link.

The waiter brought him his drink in a white coffee mug. Eric stared at it. It smelled like alcohol and coffee but it sparkled blue and was warm. Some people swore by coffee but like alcohol, Eric had never acquired the taste.

Taking a sip Eric nodded. It wasn’t too bad, but he would keeping trying to find a drink that was his style. The Alpha Centauri might be a decent backup unless he found something else.

Holograms of dancers appeared on the dance floor. They were the cheap, almost transparent kind. Various other holograms appeared as well, which gave the place a more active feel and made it seem a lot less deserted.

A few more people wandered in, a small group composed of men and women. Eric got the impression that Hansen was watching for any unattached women. Then what. Perhaps that would make the entire expedition interesting, watching Hansen try to romance a stranger might be very entertaining.

Glancing up Eric saw two more guys from third platoon walk in. Bass was a big burly gorilla, stocky and he smiled too much for Eric’s comfort. With him was Wilson, a bean pole of a man whose head never stopped scanning.

Hansen waved at them and they waved back. Wilson paused briefly when he saw Eric but they were both smiling when they arrived.

“What’s going on man?” Bass asked, his deep voice cutting through the music without any problem. Wilson on the other hand was completely drowned out.

Eric shrugged with a smile and Hansen nodded.

“I would think things would be a little livelier on a Saturday night,” Hansen said.

“There is a parade going on,” Bass rumbled. “I figure most people are there.”

“Parade?” Hansen asked and glancing at Eric.

Eric shrugged. This is the first he had heard of it.

“Why aren’t we there?” Hansen asked.

Bass shrugged as he slid into a seat.

“Maybe because it is hot and muggy outside and any drink they are selling along the route are over priced and hot?” Bass said.

“What is the parade about?” Hansen asked.

“Terraform day,” Bass said. “You would think they could schedule it when the weather was more pleasant.”

Hansen rolled his eyes and Bass smiled.

The waiter came over to take orders but Eric wasn’t even halfway through his Alpha Centauri yet. The taste was growing on him.

“What is that?” Wilson might have asked, pointing at Eric’s drink.

“Alpha Centauri,” Eric yelled back.

Wilson’s eyes widened a bit as he looked at Eric. Then he nodded like he was impressed. Eric realized he might be in trouble, but it was too late now. Just two drinks shouldn’t be too bad. Right?

Or did that look imply something else?

“Any chicks there?” Hansen asked. Bass scowled at Hansen.

“Yea,” Bass said. “But they are going to start getting hot and thirsty. Right now they just want to see the floats.”

Hansen nodded and his eyes slipped back to the door optimistically.

Eric needed to so something with his hands so he took a drink. Maybe the Alpha Centauri wasn’t too bad.

The doors opened and a group spilled in. A combination of men and women dressed in dark clothes, with goggles and masks on. Their movements were full of anger and energy so Eric wished he could see their eyes. It was hard to tell the men from the woman as they looked so similar in body type. They could all be women though, some were just more flat chested than others. Were they some gang or something? Here? In the capital city? Some biomod freaks?

As they approached the Marines they spread out. Bass, Wilson and Hansen had also noticed the new comers and Eric wondered if Bass and Wilson had some something at the parade to anger them. Trying to peer past their goggles, the cloth bandannas hiding the rest of their face was uniformly red. Their clenched fists flexed and relaxed constantly.

The eight newcomers made a beeline for the Marines and they looked angry about something.

Bass stood up to face them.

“Can I help you?” Bass asked. Eric followed suit with the other Marines, pushing their chairs out of the way.

The floor swayed a little bit underneath Eric as he stood but nobody else seemed to notice it.

“You military?” the biggest one growled. Eric wasn’t sure if it was a man or woman, it was hard to tell through the noise. The music had changed to something else. Whispering at a high volume. Something about bodies hitting the floor. Some unshaven punk with spikey hair was whispering into some old guys ear on the main screens.

“Marines,” Bass said as the strangers spread out, almost surrounding the Marines. Who were they?

“Oath breakers,” the leader said. “You should be executing the prime minister and senators for starting this war with the Union of Enlightenment.”

“The UE’s started it,” Bass said. “You can’t be stupid enough to believe we would pick a war with those social fascists?”

“Socialists would never start a war asshole,” the leader said pulling his arm back to swing at Bass.

The music screamed and all Eric heard was “floor!” as two of the strangers came right at him, winding back to strike.

Without thought Eric stepped forward and slammed his fist into the first one’s chin. The second one was still winding back and was too slow in their attack. Eric blocked it by slamming the side of his hand into the attacker’s bicep and then he stepped into his attacker, slamming his elbow into the attackers face. A glance at Eric’s first attacker showed he, or she, was collapsing like a felled log. The second attacker was collapsing as well.

Taking a step back Eric looked around. None of the strangers were still standing.

The bartender had a grin on his face and was sitting down a cup he had been drying off. The waiter also had a smirk on his face as he looked at the bodies lying around the Marines.

Pointing at the ceiling the bartender bobbed his head to the music.

Eric glanced at the screen to see the spike hair guy singing to the old guy.

“Nothing wrong with me!” the music threatened.

Looking at the two who had attacked him Eric looked toward Bass and Wilson. They were looking at their downed opponents too.

The music went off and the bartender walked over to them.

“I hate it when strange people in masks attack my guests,” the bartender said. “The music was so appropriate though.”

“Uh,” Bass said.

“They attacked first,” the bartender said. “You were just defending yourselves. It is recorded. I record everything that happens in my bar.”

Bass reached down and pulled off the mask and goggles. It was some kid, maybe, hard to tell sometimes with anti-age treatment so commonly available.

Eric’s knees felt weak and he sat down, taking another drink from his mug.

“Peace keepers should be here any-” the door flew open and a pair of armored peace keepers walked in.

They looked around and their eyes fell on the thugs at the feet of the Marines.

A recall order arrived in Eric’s queue, flashing for attention. He was required to report back to the barracks.

Wilson swore.

The peace keepers seemed to ignore the Marines as they pulled the masks off the strangers. Implants in their helmet or eyes should be identifying the attackers as their faces were revealed. Justice moved swiftly in the capital of the New Republic.

“You guys might want to head back to base,” the shorter peace keeper said. “If we need you we will call, but everything seems pretty straight forward. Self defense.”

“Yes sir,” Bass said for the group.

Eric’s body felt weak. His uncle and battalion officers were probably getting notifications that their Marines had been involved in an altercation in town.

A pair of paramedics with medical bots came in.

Eric glanced at the two he had dropped. One had been a girl and it looked like her jaw was broken. She had been the first attacker.

“Go on,” the Peacekeeper said. “Your commanders have been notified and sent a copy of Rock Republic’s footage.”

Eric nodded and followed Bass as the Marines headed for the door.

The floor kept wanting to sway underneath Eric.

Outside a Fleet military police van pulled up. Everything felt like it was moving too fast but Eric did his best to try and keep up with the others.

“Shit,” Bass said as Fleet spacer in light armor got out. It was hard to read his expression.

The door slid open and the spacer motioned them in.

Fishing in a cargo pouch he held something out for Eric.

Eric took it. Took a minute to focus on it but then he saw it was a sober-up pill.

“Thank you,” Eric said to the police officer as he climbed into the van. His full physical state would have been transmitted the second he flagged as involved in an altercation of some kind.

“Man,” Wilson said. “That was kinda fun.”

Bass shook his head.

“Who were they?” Eric asked after popping the pill into his mouth.

“UE sympathizers,” Hansen said. “Stupid kids that think the Republic started the war with the UE’s.”

“Really?” Eric said. His head was starting to hurt and his stomach was starting to feel queasy and Eric was worried he might vomit. Had the spacer giving him some poor quality sober-up pill? Were they always like this?

“Yea,” Bass said. “Saw them at the parade. They looked like trouble. The were screaming and swearing as the Army float went by. It was Army so I kinda understand but they were just so full of hate.”

Eric remained silent. His uncle was probably going to tear him a new asshole when he got back. Fighting Republic civilians? Beating them senseless? Probably drunken disorderly. Having the other person start it had never been a valid excuse for Uncle Mike.

What would this do to his chances for being selected for the special mission? A clean criminal record was a requirement.

The actual queasiness in his stomach passed but Eric still felt sick as he rubbed his head. Riding back to the transient quarters was nerve wracking as Eric tried to imagine what his uncle would say and what the selection board would think. If it wasn’t the sober-up pill giving him a queasy stomach it was facing his uncle and the board.