* * *
The raucous merrymaking from the evening’s dinner was long since quieted down, several of the partiers having already departed via the Oros rail-stage for the leisurely ride over the ObebBailSoar Mountain Range west onto Palace City. The tavern near the Oros Low Station was slowly returning to normal with the comings and goings of its regular patrons, leaving the three lingering partygoers sitting quietly in a corner booth by themselves.
After lamenting Anna’s absence, Jonathan, one of three at the table, wondered at just how crowded Oros was becoming. “Just since my last visit two months ago, there seems to be a fabulous gathering of peoples here. And all this talk about war! Has our new king been busy with proclamations I haven’t heard about?”
Planetee, who was nursing a hard drink, swirled it about in the glass, wryly commenting, “That Anna gets under your skin if you’re not careful! Let me warn you, little does that girl wander from home if it’s not for some personal reward! You’ve not yet learned the arts of romance she’s accustomed to. If that woman seeks your manly ways, it’s for devious reasons, not for your benefit.” She looked up, staring into his face. “Keep it in your pants when around her if you wish for secrets to remain in your head! You’re not in short supply of willing lovers in this world. Just let them know your need to rut and the roe will stampede you to distraction.”
Jonathan’s face reddened to crimson, stuttering in an attempt to make some coherent reply.
Jebbson, sitting across from the other two, began to laugh. “My dear fellow, if one does not wish for the sting of the bee, he must learn not to yearn for the honey.”
“But I was only speaking about missing Anna’s companionship, not bedding the woman.” Jonathan declared, defending his honorable intentions. “We’re...well, friends. I miss her company.”
Planetee looked back down at her drink, swishing it about, chiding the fellow. “Anna can raise the ardor of Ardon, even if he’s in a drunken stupor. Your eyes betray the lust you have for the woman. Lust? Yes, I say, for she leaves little room for love. But she can put your head in a tizzy - man or woman. She’s a witch, an Ancient with outstanding powers. Now I warn you again, if you wish to keep any innocence about you, avoid that woman! She doesn’t make love. She fucks, and for her benefit.”
Poor Jonathan was embarrassed and becoming flustered. Jebbson laughed again and lifted his cup of hot buttered rum. “Enough, my friend! This lady is providing an honest opinion. Thank her for her candor and let’s be gone with it onto other matters, like why the gathering of the birds.”
Jonathan slowly nodded, agreeing, thanking Planetee for her advice. He then looked a Jebbson. “So then, professor, tell us why the crows of war have not been declared, or even hinted at.”
Jebbson grinned. “Oh, I didn’t say hinted. Does one need to wait to see the driving snow and hear the howling winds to know that winter is nigh? Not at all, because all around are the would-be signs, warning that season’s hour. The flight of birds, the color of the leaves, the chill, frosty mornings are but a few of the signs of warning, telling the wise one to prepare.”
He watched two officers leaving the tavern. “War is coming, the signs of its nearing arrival all about us. The breeze carries a tune foreboding of it as cold as an autumn frost. So the birds’ gather to the last great evening meal into death and destruction, the final celebration of unbridled living.”
Extending a hand toward some other uniformed soldiers sitting at a distant, crowded table, Jebbson explained, “The gathering together and renewing of old acquaintances is the beginning of the celebration. Snappy music, jubilant slogans, wild parties filled with boasting and heavy drinking, and exuberant merrymaking are but the beginning of the ritual. It will be such fond memories, the hearty handshake, passionate lovemaking, hushed confession, and…and all the things carried on at this early time that will warm the soul while the insanity of war crashes all about them.”
After taking another sip of hot drink, he continued. “What you see now is not the storm surge of new recruits who will later rush to the colors when the cry for war is made. Currently it is the gathering of the veterans you are witnessing. Death and destruction, pain and suffering they well know, yet come to the blood feast to experience for possibly one last time the excitement and glory of living life to its highest…or is it possibly to make amends to the already dead for having wickedly lived through the last holocaust while the others did not?”
He shrugged. “Whatever it may be, they reunite for this one last hurrah with old comrades who also remember the last conflagration who with just a look or a nod reflect their understanding for what was, is, and will come.”
“Yep!” Jebbson took another swig of his drink. “It is this moment, or others like it, that make all the other mayhem worthwhile, the sitting and staring into the face of another soul who’s been to Hell and back and understands…understands what it’s all about. It keeps your sanity about you.”
Leaning toward Planetee as he looked into her face, Jonathan asked, “Was that also that way with your kind before the Great War?”
Planetee peered into Jebbson’s face. “Your tongue is like that of an Ancient who has seen the world’s ending from Lagandow’s peaks.”
Taking Planetee’s hand, Jebbson replied, “Nay, my lady, but I perceive the feeling at Lagandow, wherever that may be, was little different than standing below Marye’s Heights, or in front of Lookout Mountain.”
Planetee smiled sadly. She then looked at Jonathan, answering his question. “No, my friend, the jubilant celebration is far more subdued now than then, the numbers of recruits filling this city to overflowing so much so that many were forced to sleep in the streets in those days before the war. We all believed the Great War was the final war of retribution, and few wished to miss out on it. The songs of celebration at that time filled the heavens with joyous melody.”
Gripping her glass with both hands, Planetee closed her eyes. “It was not the final war, but certainly the costliest up to that time. My people were swept away during those years of destruction like wheat before a reaper’s blade. Why, at Stargaton, in a forgotten little battle of that war, we lost more people than are currently assembled at the Army base east of Oros, in one hour losing twenty thousand.”
She frowned sadly. “I commanded the lead squadron of fighters during one heated contest for the city. The ‘Rensselaers’ our name - a fighting hawk, our bird -painted on each ship. By the end of the day, of my two hundred fighters, one hundred seventy had tumbled from the skies. At role call the following morning, only eleven of my fighter pilots reported for duty.” She peered deep into her half-full glass. “Over two thirds of those who rose to face the enemy with me on that day perished in the contest. Of those still able to fly, few survived the war, and they were assigned to different squadrons, the Rensselaers having been disbanded.”
Quietly lamenting the past, Planetee’s words carried a tone of bitter remorse. “The Great War was to be the final war. The Serpent was to be driven from these worlds for good, or at least we believed it was to be. We put everything into it, all our strength, energy, and might. We used ourselves up! The flower of my people lay buried in the Silent Tombs, in forgotten, rocky wastelands, or blown to ashes in some worthless star-system.”
She looked up. “There are so few of us left who remember what it was really like back then, before that war...fewer still who share the memories of earlier times. To this day there are cities void of life because their inhabitants rallied to the cause, never to return home, clans, peoples and tongues all disappearing beneath the wheels of war.” Planetee bowed her head, appearing as if ready to weep, but no tears came. “Lovers and companions known since the world’s beginning torn asunder and trampled into the mud and filth of that evil war...”
Jonathan marveled, puzzling at the things Planetee was telling them. His world had also been violent but, for him, little of war’
s mayhem had he personally experienced. Oh yes, he could grasp in his mind the occasional ruined ship, a company of dead soldiers, but to look upon a field of slain spanning a week’s march? Too much! It was far too much for his mind to comprehend.
Pondering the magnitude of the things he was hearing, he asked Planetee, “What you have witnessed, my mind cannot even imagine! Tell me, please, where does one get the strength of integrity to carry on when surrounded by such destruction? How did you keep your sanity under those conditions?”
Planetee’s face hardened, her reply abusive and bitter. “You think me sane?! Fool! My sanity fled my soul long ago!”
She challenged him with caustic rebuke. “Tell me if you think me sane... The brains of sweet companions and lovers I have callously scraped from my clothing while hiding behind piles of rotting corpses and eating cold, maggot-infested food. I have covered my own flesh with the entrails of fallen companions to escape enemy capture. I have thrown lifeless bodies to hungry sharks to escape their hungry jaws, clawed into the torn bellies of horses to keep from freezing to death.” Shaking her head in guilty remorse, Planetee mourned, “Few are the things I have not done to keep this wrenched soul alive while others about me fell to damnation. No, sanity belongs to the righteous lot. Long ago did I lose that holy stature.”
Planetee picked up her glass. “No, my friend, losing your sanity is the easy part. It’s better that way...hurts less. The tough part is managing to survive when the quiet is upon you. One way is to turn yourself into a machine that thinks only when necessary and feels not at all.” She then asked, “Do you know how long it has been since I sought out a little romantic comfort? I confess, I do not recall. Oh yes, I do ache at times for a man’s touch, but the pain is far less than to ache over a lover’s tortured death, the shattered corpse of the one who once so excited your spirit.”
The woman banged her fist on the table. “To endure the evil, you must learn to feel nothing…nothing! Then, then you might just survive...”
Jonathan attempted to make some reply, but he could find no speech coming from his mouth. Planetee twirled the brew in her glass, warning ominously. “Listen well to my words, for you will not escape my fate! You have not been delivered here to preach or lecture in some public assembly. Those days are long past for you. No, you are the legend of prophecy, one of the Death Angels, the Black Monsters arisen from the belly of Hell to bring my world to ruin!”
“Your sword will rent the heavens with the blood of all mankind! You will consign both the wicked and righteous to Gahanna’s fires, their carcasses being cast along the broadways across this galaxy! You will eat up our fleshy parts and devour our youth! You shall eat the flesh and drink the blood of rich and poor, old and young, man and woman, until drunk with Death’s glory you are satisfied...”
Jonathan was abhorred at what he was hearing. Planetee silenced him. “Don’t resist it! It is your destiny... Your God ordained it, and my kind has honored it. No, my friend, you cannot escape your future any more than I can escape my past.”
She lifted her glass, drawing his attention to it. “Now, you can do as I have done…disown your soul and repudiate your sanity… or you can turn to this for help.” At that, she tipped up the glass and gulped down the hard liquor. Setting the glass back on the table, she wiped her lips dry. “Truth be told, the stuff only lets you forget for but a moment, but the following sick headache helps to keep your mind off it a bit longer.”
Jebbson spoke up, downing the last of his rum. “The Lady speaks with wisdom, my fine fellow. Listen and heed what she says. It becomes easier when you view only the objective and ignore the means you’re forced to take to achieve it. Indeed! War can become quite fun if you, you know, stick to only the meaningless, cold numbers, forgetting the hearts and souls behind them.”
Planetee peered into Jebbson’s face, wondering the true meaning of his statement. His hardened gaze told it all. Here was a man who had surrendered up all to attain the valued prize. There was no judgment or ridicule found in his eyes. The man understood well the price to be paid for such service and accepted without hesitation the cost. She puzzled about him, seeing that he had discovered a way to retain his sanity in the insane world of war. Did he have hidden knowledge from which she could benefit?
Reaching out and taking Jebbson’s hand, Planetee silently stared into the man’s eyes, hers pleading for understanding and sympathy. Jebbson did not disappoint, in only moments of quiet contemplation he beginning to tear down her walls of guilt and self-loathing, renewing ever so slightly a desire in her heart to live and to love again. Whatever powers this man possessed, she wanted to experience more of them.
Jonathan suddenly broke the silence by calling out to someone entering the tavern, motioning the woman over. “Chess! Chess! Come on over here. It’s good to see you!”
Chasileah stood there, awkwardly wondering what to do, seeing that her former commanding general sat in the booth with Jonathan. Finally surrendering to the fellow’s constant pleas, she slowly made her way over.
After politely sitting, Jonathan ordered Chasileah and the others a round of cold cider. Seeing a distraught look on Chasileah’s face, believing the woman held her responsible for the ruin of her regiment at Bauglow, Planetee reached over and took Chasileah’s hand, her eyes speaking volumes of pleading emotion. Whether Chasileah understood or not, it served as a curing salve for her heart to have it done so. The two women quietly sat, staring into each other’s eyes while Jonathan and Jebbson went on about some rather unimportant issues.
Finally Jonathan asked Chasileah about her visit to Oros. She answered, “I was making some important deliveries for the Postal that brought me over this way. When finished with my duties, the last of the day’s sky ferries was long since departed. I wanted to head back to Palace City tonight, so decided to take the twelve-thirty rail-stage back. It’s a slow ride, but I can catch some rest on the way.”
Jonathan leaned forward, smiling. “I was going to leave for Palace City in the morning, but have no reason to stay here tonight. Would you like some company on the rail-stage? I’ve got my pack with me.” He frowned. “You said you wanted to get some sleep.”
Chasileah was honestly polite. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day, but yes, I would enjoy your company on the way back. Besides, keeping me company doesn’t mean we need entertain each other the entire trip. There will be plenty of time for talking and napping.”
Seeing the hour, the two stood to leave, Jebbson and Planetee doing the same. They all walked to the door together and into the warm, starry night, not parting until Jonathan and Chasileah passed through the doors of the Oros Low Station. Jebbson and Planetee stood there for some time until they saw the rail-stage begin its slow, ponderous ascent through the city for its next stop further up the mountain. Eventually it would arrive at the Oros High Station, then make for the Obeb High Pass, over the mountains, and down the western slopes for Palace City.
Jebbson finally broke the silence. Taking Planetee’s hand, he mused, “The sunrise is ever so beautiful when seen from the high bluffs above the city. I have a machine that can take us there in a jiffy. Can I talk you into accepting my invitation?”
Planetee blushed, like a maiden experiencing her first flirting. “The pleasure would be all mine, my fine gentleman fellow.”
The morning found Planetee waking to soft breezes drifting up from the valley below as the sun was peering over the hills, turning the sky brilliant hues of burnished red. She sat up quickly to take in the mesmerizing scene. Doing so, the woman looked about, noticing the scattering of clothing all around them. Leaning back on her hands, Planetee closed her eyes, dreamily recalling their earlier romantic interlude that had so warmed her soul and refreshed her spirit.
The sun broke over the distant mountains, casting its warm, golden glow down upon the two people high atop the bluffs. Reaching out, Planetee placed her hand on J
ebbson’s chest as he lay there sleeping. Thump... thump... thump... the even beat of his heart warmed her, and his rhythmic breathing made her wish this morning would never end. Well, let it last a little bit longer. There was no rush, no hurry for the day to begin too soon.
Planetee slowly sank down beside the peacefully sleeping Jebbson. She snuggled up in his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Jebbson grumbled something inaudible, wrapping his arm about the woman and drawing her close. Soon Planetee had drifted back off to sleep, her heart beating in rhythm with the man holding her.