Earthlings (Soldiers of Earthrise Book 2) Read online

Page 2


  George and Etty. They were both in Jon's platoon. They were his two best friends in the galaxy.

  More bullets shrieked from across the street.

  His friends pulled Jon to cover. Under a hailstorm of bullets, they rushed into the infamous Bottoms Up bar, one of the Go Go Cowgirl's competitors. They crouched on the sticky floor, thrust their guns out the window, and fired.

  "Why the hell did you run outside, Jon?" George said. "You almost got yourself killed!"

  "He was here!" Jon said. "Ernesto! The bastard who killed Paul."

  "No shit, we saw!" George said.

  "George and I were fucking there in the bar!" Etty said. "I mean—we weren't fucking there. We were fucking there! As in, we were in the bar, not fucking, and then Ernesto came, I mean he—"

  "Shut up, guys, and just kill the damn Kennys!" Jon said.

  But the Kalayaan were already retreating. The guerrillas pulled back into alleyways. Into sewers. A few ran across the rooftops, scattering metal sheets and slats of particle board. When a helicopter finally arrived, its machine guns blazing, the last few guerrillas vanished in the urban jungle.

  And with them was Ernesto.

  "I took off a chunk of skull, but the bastard is still alive." Jon stepped onto the street, blood sluicing around his boots. He balled his fists. "I know he's still alive."

  "He'll be dead soon." George wiped sweat off his brow. "Nobody can live long with that kind of injury."

  Jon wanted to run through the city, to seek Ernesto, to finish the job.

  But then he thought of Maria back in the Go Go Cowgirl. What if Ernesto returned for her? Or one of his men? Jon dared not be apart from her.

  He leaped over corpses, making his way back to the bar and the woman he loved.

  * * * * *

  That night, the Go Go Cowgirl shone with lights, Bahayan pop music pounded, and booze and drugs flowed. As if the place hadn't erupted with violence just hours ago. As if there wasn't still blood staining the wall. Bargirls strutted along the bar, broken angels in high heels and fraying lingerie. Drunken soldiers hooted and hollered from the tables, tossing dollar bills. Soldiers and bargirls copulated on tabletops, on the staircase, even on the filthy floor.

  The soldiers were shell-shocked, mere boys plucked from Earth, tossed into war on a distant planet, expelled into the glittering streets for a little sin between battles. The bargirls were refugees, their villages burned and poisoned, their eyes glassy with drugs, their hearts shattered, their children waiting at home for a meal. The Go Go Cowgirl—a hive of sin, pleasure, and broken souls. A place of neon forgetfulness. A place to drown the memories.

  But Jon could not forget what had happened, even if the rest of the bar could.

  He didn't join the soldiers downstairs. He didn't want to drink or gamble or watch the unano dwarfs wrestle. He and Maria sat in her little room upstairs.

  I hired her for four days, Jon thought. I have one more night. And tomorrow I return to the war.

  Jon looked at her. Maria sat cross-legged on the bed before him, so beautiful that his heart hurt. Her black hair flowed like silk, framing a delicate face, the most beautiful face Jon had never seen. She looked back, eyes damp, and smiled tremulously. Jon wondered if this was their last night together.

  For dinner, they were sharing a plate of lumpia pork rolls and fried rice. But neither one was hungry. They just picked at the food. Suddenly, with a crackling sound, the radio in the room stopped playing the latest Bahayan pop song. A news bulletin began to play, broadcast in English for the benefit of the Earthling soldiers in the city.

  "Good evening, free people of South Bahay," said the broadcaster, speaking with a Bahayan accent. "The Red Cardinal, the treacherous tyrant of North Bahay, has launched a major offensive today. His so-called Luminous Army is swarming toward the equator with several divisions of infantry, armor, and artillery. Throughout the jungles, the terrorist organization Kalayaan is aiding them. South Bahayans, this is the most serious aggression we have faced since the war began. Stand strong with our Earthling allies! Together, we will push back the northern traitors, and—"

  Maria turned it off. She shook her head. "Propaganda."

  Jon didn't know a lot about Bahay's politics. But he knew that Earth had installed a puppet government here in the south. That most Bahayans hated this government, considered its ministers traitors. Jon had come here to fight the north. They told him he was here to liberate the planet. That the Bahayans would welcome him with open arms.

  So much for that.

  Jon no longer knew who to believe. Which side was right and which was wrong. All he knew was that Ernesto was out there, still alive, and that Maria was here in this room, the most beautiful woman in the galaxy, and he might never see her again.

  He caressed her cheek.

  Maria, I love you, he wanted to say. I came here to fight, and I found terror and bloodshed and pain. But I also found you. The past four days have been the best in my life. Because you were with me.

  But he could not utter those words. Feeling too embarrassed. Too awkward. Like a lovelorn boy.

  So he just said, "Do you want to play cards?"

  She smiled. A true smile. A smile that showed bright white teeth and filled her eyes with joy. "Gin rummy? I bet I can beat you again!"

  He poked her with a lumpia roll. "Not a chance."

  She gasped. "You're on, mister!"

  They played a round. He won, and she pouted and pelted him with lumpia. But when she won the next round, she celebrated, danced around the room, and blew a raspberry at him. They played a few more rounds. When picking cards, Maria frowned, deep in concentration, tongue sticking out, and whenever she won, she danced and laughed. And Jon laughed too. To savor this last joy. To try to forget the news on the radio, if only for tonight. To try to forget that his leave was ending, that at dawn he would return into the fire.

  Finally the music died downstairs. The last few soldiers were probably snoring at the tables or in the beds of bargirls. But Jon and Maria remained awake in her room, sitting side by side, the cards strewn around them.

  Jon looked at her, and their laughed faded.

  He leaned forward and kissed her lips.

  "I love you," he said.

  She smiled and a tear flowed down her cheek. "I love you too, my husband."

  He brushed her hair, she unbuttoned her dress, and they made love. As he lay atop her, drenched in sweat, Jon felt like he was back in the jungle, that the enemy was all around. He tried to focus on Maria, yet he kept seeing the blood, the dead, and when he climaxed, he felt lost in the dark.

  But when he lay on his back, she cuddled against him, and soothed him, and kissed away his tears, and his pain faded.

  Tonight, let me just think of her, Jon thought. Tomorrow I will return to hell. But tonight, here in this hot little room above the bar—this is heaven.

  "I'm scared," she whispered. "Of Ernesto. Of the war. Of everything."

  He kissed her cheek. "I'll keep you safe tonight. And I'll return to you. And when the war is over, we'll live together."

  "As husband and wife?" she whispered.

  He nodded. "As husband and wife. I'll take you back to Earth with me, and I'll give you a good life. You'll never have to work in a bar again. And I'll never have to fight again. We'll be together and happy."

  She rolled atop him, kissed his lips, and looked into his eyes. "I love you, Jon Taylor. Promise you'll come back to me. Promise."

  Suddenly he remembered.

  Kaelyn's words on Earth.

  Come back pure or come back dead. Promise me, Jon.

  Kaelyn. His muse. His soprano. Singer in his band. He had kissed her under the tree, but Kaelyn was not his to love. Kaelyn had been Paul's girlfriend. And now Paul was dead, and Jon was here, and that old life was gone.

  Now there was only Maria in his arms.

  "I promise, Maria. I promise."

  Finally they slept, holding each other, until the sun rose over
hell.

  Chapter Two

  A Small Light in a Dark Alley

  The morning rose, and Jon was gone, and Maria trembled.

  The devil is out there, she thought. Ernesto. He's out there and alive, and he knows where I am, and my soldier is gone. She looked around her at the seedy club. There is no more safety here.

  Normally in the morning, you could find Earthling soldiers sleeping throughout the Go Go Cowgirl—slumped over tabletops, on the staircase, and in the beds of bargirls. But not this morning. The entire city was talking about it. A major assault from the north. Fierce battles blazing across Bahay. Every combat soldier had been pulled from Mindao, it seemed. Thousands of drunken, terrified, homesick boys—sent into the meat grinder.

  Many, maybe most, would not return.

  But Jon would. Maria knew he would. He had promised. Made a sacred vow. He had to return.

  She just had to survive until then.

  The front door banged open, and Maria started, sure it was Ernesto come to grab her. But it was only the Magic Man, his purple suit dusty and wrinkled.

  "It's a goddamn mess out there!" the pimp said. "A goddamn mess. The whole city—chaos! Helicopters and planes flying north. Soldiers racing into armored trucks. Goddammit, all my best customers are leaving. My business will be ruined!" He shook his fist. "Curse the Red Cardinal. Curse him!"

  Maria had to get out of there. She made a beeline for the door.

  "Where are you going, Maria?" the Magic Man said.

  "I… I don't know," she confessed.

  There wasn't anywhere to go. The Earthlings had burned her village to the ground. Her entire family was dead. The city was full of homelessness, drugs, rape, despair.

  "You're not going back onto the street, are you?" The pimp took a step toward her. His hands curled into fists spiky with rings. "Remember where you were when I found you. Living in filth! Begging! Eating trash to survive! You have nowhere else to go, girl. You are mine."

  "What's the point?" Maria said. "I thought all your customers were leaving the city!"

  The Magic Man winced. "You're right. You're right!" He slumped into a chair and covered his eyes. "I'm ruined. Ruined!"

  A few of the little people he employed approached to comfort him. They were billed on the poster outside as The Amazing Unanos—Midget Wrestlers. But Maria had gotten to know them as kind people, their only curse being born different. They had washed up in the bars for the same reason as her. They had nowhere else to go.

  As the little wrestlers comforted their weeping boss, Maria seized her chance. She sneaked outside.

  She stood in the back alley. Bottles rolled around her feet. Stray cats hissed, and stray toddlers ran by. Electric cables sagged over the alley, tangled like old fishing nets, buzzing and crackling, and Maria remembered the roar of planes flying over her village.

  Trembling seized her.

  Jon was off to war.

  Her parents were gone.

  Ernesto was after her.

  She was nothing but a homeless bargirl, alone in the world, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  For a moment, she allowed herself to cry. To be weak. To let it out.

  Then she took a deep breath.

  No, I'm not alone.

  She pulled her best friend from her pocket.

  Crisanto hovered above her palm. The little round creature glowed, painting her hand with silvery light. He was a Santelmo. An actual Santelmo she had found in the forest as a girl, had adopted as a pet.

  The Santelmos were ancient and wise aliens. They came from a world far across the galaxy. Throughout history, they had shone on Earth, studying humanity. They appeared in folklore around the world. Wills-o-the-wisp in England, mystical beings of the swamps. Saint Elmo's Fire in America. Chir batti in India, ghost lights of the marshes. Aleyas in Bengal. Luz malas in Argentina, believed to be evil spirits. Naga fireballs in Thailand, said to be the fiery eyes of monstrous serpents. Hitodama in Japan, worshiped as human souls. Almost every culture throughout history knew of these floating balls of light, told their own stories about them.

  And the Filipinos, who called them Santelmos, knew them best of all. Centuries ago, back before humans had starships or even planes, the Santelmos had brought a few Filipino settlers here to Bahay, to this distant planet so far from home. Here they still watched over the Bahayans—the descendants of those blessed sailors among the stars.

  But of course, Crisanto himself had done none of that. He was only a baby, no larger than an acorn.

  "I'm not a soldier like Jon," she told him. "I'm not a warrior like Ernesto. But I'm not helpless. And I have you."

  His glow brightened. He bobbed in her hand, perhaps his way of smiling.

  Another light flickered in the alleyway—this one orange. A match burning.

  A woman stepped out of the shadows. She wore a leopard print miniskirt, a red bra, and high heels, her clothes from last night. Her bob cut, normally black and smooth, was ruffled. Her cross rested between her breasts.

  Maria, who was already preparing to flee, relaxed. It was only Charlie, her best friend.

  "What you got there, kid?" Charlie said, puffing on a cigarette.

  Maria quickly stuffed Crisanto back into her pocket. The Santelmo aliens were allies of the Red Cardinal, arming his northern warriors. If she was caught here in South Bahay with a pet Santelmo… Maria gulped. She had seen traitors hung from cranes in the city square. She did not relish such a fate.

  "Just um… a match," Maria lied.

  Charlie took a long drag on her cigarette, blew a smoke ring. "Whatever you say, kid."

  Maria studied the woman. Charlie Wonder was her stage name. Her given name was Dalisay Cortes, born and raised in the city slums before finding her way into the bars. Charlie was in her thirties, old for a bargirl, and a mother of four. She was also, Maria thought, the strongest, most beautiful, and most intelligent woman in the world.

  I've never had a sister, Maria thought. But if I did, I'd want one like Charlie.

  Sister? Actually, Charlie was the same age Maria's mother would have been today. But it was hard to imagine the woman, with her push-up bra and tiny skirt, as motherly. Four children notwithstanding.

  "Charlie, don't tell anyone. About the light you saw in my pocket." Maria grabbed Charlie's arms. "Please."

  As she held the older woman, Maria felt them. The little scars on Charlie's forearms. Yes, Charlie injected shabu, the most popular drug in Mindao. It could be injected, snorted, smoked, even eaten, giving different experiences. But the ultimate goal was always the same. The same reason so many bargirls used it.

  It dulled the pain. If only for a few hours.

  Charlie smiled crookedly and brushed back Maria's hair. "Tell who what?"

  Maria sighed in relief. "Thank you, Charlie." She hugged the older woman. "I can't go back to the Go Go Cowgirl, Charlie. Not ever."

  Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Because of that Ernesto goon? I'll protect you from him. We've had men barge into the club before, demanding to marry this or that girl. We scare them all off."

  "Ernesto Santos is not like other men," Maria said. She remembered how he had murdered a captive Earthling in San Luna. How he had tortured another in the tunnels. How he had calmly shot the pretty Earthling woman in the chest just yesterday. She remembered too how Ernesto used to beat her.

  Charlie took another drag on her cigarette. She blew smoke out slowly, gazing at the wall, contemplating. "He's Kalayaan, isn't he?"

  "He is." Maria dropped her voice to a whisper. "I was Kalayaan once too. For only a short while. I… I saw things. Things that made me sick. I had to escape them. And now he's after me. He wants to marry me. And he wants to kill Jon. He killed Jon's brother. And…" Maria couldn't stop her tears. "And I don't know why I'm telling you this, Charlie. If anyone knew that I fought for the enemy. If Jon knew…"

  "Hush now!" Charlie pulled her into an embrace. "You're safe with me, little one. You're safe with your Tita Charli
e. And you can stay in my house until things blow over. It's not a mansion. It's only a little shanty by the river. But my home is your home. Until your Mister Jon comes back for you."

  If he comes back for me, Maria thought. She remembered the radio reports of the Luminous Army moving south, bombing everything in its path.

  And now Jon was in its path.

  "Thank you, Charlie." She kissed the older woman's cheek. "Thank you so much. I just wish…" Maria sighed. "I wish there was another way. To fight the Earthlings. To free Bahay. Not with armies like the Luminous Army. Not with torture and kidnappings and assassinations—that's how the Kalayaan fights. But with…"

  Maria fell silent. She began to pace the alley, thoughts racing through her mind.

  "What, Maria?" Charlie said. "I can hear the gears turning in that big head of yours."

  "My mother always did say I have a head that's too big, full of too many questions." Maria smiled shakily and held Charlie's hands. "Charlie, I know what we must do. Not fight as soldiers. Not fight as guerrillas. But we can still resist. We can still free our world."

  Charlie's eyebrow arched upward again. "How?"

  Maria's smile widened, though fear fluttered in her chest. "Charlie, I hereby invite you to join my little resistance movement. The Bargirl Bureau."

  Now Charlie's other eyebrow rose. "Maria, you're a silly little girl, and probably insane. What are you up to?"

  She held Charlie's hand, leaned forward, and whispered. Slowly Charlie's eyes grew wider and wider, and then a grin spread across her face.

  Chapter Three

  Plastic Orchids

  Lieutenant Carter ran down the hospital corridor, blinded by terror.

  "Lizzy! Where are you?"

  The news had reached him not an hour ago.

 

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