D. MacHale - The Soldiers of Halla

“What if you’re wrong?” Boon asked.

“We’ll know long before they get close to the valley” was Courtney’s answer. “We have eyes everywhere. Get some sleep. Before the sunbelt rises, I’ll get us all up, and I’ll show you why I think the klees are in trouble.”

I didn’t doubt her.

Courtney told us to make ourselves at home. She left to meet with the gar defenders to tell them of the possibility that the oncoming army might be partly mechanical. She promised to be back shortly.

Kasha and Boon made themselves comfortable in the outer room next to the fireplace. There was a large chair in Courtney’s bedroom that I claimed. Soon after I settled in, Courtney returned and crawled into her own bed.

“How did it go?” I asked.

“It took a while to convince them that the klees might be mechanical, but they were willing to listen. If our radio cannons work on the dados, it’ll give us one more little advantage. Obviously, we need all we can get.”

I didn’t argue.

Before long I heard the steady breathing of Kasha and Boon as they slept. It was almost like purring. Or maybe it was exactly like purring. They were out and I was glad. The next day was going to be a tough one for them. If all went the way we expected, they would witness their own people-klees-going to war. Though I suspected that the majority of the advancing army was made up of dado klees, I had to believe that there were also plenty of living klees on the way. Somebody had to tell the dados what to do. I knew which side Kasha was on, but it would be tough for her to see the klees going to battle. I trusted Boon as well, but it was going to be hard for him, too. I made my mind up that I would ask Boon to stay away. It would be unfair to ask him to fight his own kind, no matter how right or important it was.

I was so incredibly proud of Courtney. From all that I heard, she was the one who held the exiles together and helped create a community with the gars. When she first became my acolyte so long ago, I knew that I could rely on her. I had no idea that she would be pushed to such extremes, but wasn’t surprised that she had risen to every challenge. As did Mark. I loved those guys.

“Bobby?” Courtney called from her bed. “You awake?”

“What do you think?” I replied.

She snickered. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What do you think is the way it was meant to be?” “That’s, like, a huge question,” I answered. “Where do I begin to answer that?” “Begin with us.”

I froze. I wasn’t sure what she meant. “Do you remember the night you first left home?” she asked.

“How could I forget?”

“Do you remember what I said to you when I came to your house that night?”

I debated about being cool, or telling the truth. I chose the truth.

“You said that you had this feeling about me, and that if you didn’t tell me that night, you were afraid that you’d never get the chance again. Then you kissed me.”

“I guess that would be a yes. You remember.”

“Every second of it.”

“So do you ever wonder what would have happened if not for the whole Traveler thing?” “You mean that night?”

“No,” she laughed. “I mean with us. If we’d had the chance to live our lives out the way they were supposed to be lived.”

“Who says what happened isn’t the way it was supposed to be?” I said, ducking the question. “I do,” Courtney said flatly. That shut me up.

She continued, “Do you think we would have gotten together and, like, had a life?”

“Courtney,” I said, “believe it or not, I’ve wondered that same thing more times than I can count.”

“And what did you come up with?” she asked.

“You mean what did I think would happen, or what do I wish would have happened?”

Courtney hesitated a moment, debating about the answer.

“What do you wish?” she finally asked.

This was it. The big answer.

“I wish we could have had the chance to find out.” “Yeah, me too.”

I don’t know why I did what I did, but it would have been wrong not to. I got out of the chair and lay down on the bed next to Courtney. I got down on my side behind her and put my arm around her. She hugged my arm around her waist. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Or awkward. It was just… right. I could smell her hair. Whatever she used to wash it on that primitive territory made it smell like flowers from home. Lying there with her made me feel vulnerable, because I was letting my guard down. Not my physical guard, my emotional guard. I had become a badass. I was a warrior. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have survived. Holding Courtney like that was like admitting I needed the touch of another human. I’d put any thoughts of companionship out of my head, because I knew it wasn’t possible. I had once opened myself up to Loor, and she pointed out that letting down our guard and allowing ourselves normal emotions would be dangerous. She was right. But at that moment, lying with Courtney, I didn’t care.

“I don’t regret anything that happened, Bobby,” she whispered. “If I had to do it over again, I would.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I said. “But I think I would too. Except that I wouldn’t involve you and Mark. It’s the only regret I have.”

“And that would have been a mistake, because without us you wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

I laughed. “You’re right.”

“Just promise me one thing,” she said.

“What?”

“When this is over, remember me.”

It seemed like such a simple request. A dumb one, even. How could I ever forget the glorious Courtney Chetwynde? I was about to say something to that effect, but stopped. For a brief moment I had forgotten the truth. I forgot that I wasn’t really Bobby Pendragon from Second Earth. I was a spirit from a place called Solara. When this was over, no matter how it came out, where would I end up? What kind of person

… what kind of being would I be? I suppose it was a very real possibility that when it was over, I wouldn’t remember Courtney. What she was asking for was a promise I couldn’t make. So I did the only thing that made sense. I lied.

“Of course I promise,” I said. “What a dumb thing to ask.”

I hugged her tighter and kissed her on the back of the head.

“I knew you would,” she said. “I just wanted to hear it.”

I stopped talking. I wanted to experience the simple joy of holding Courtney Chetwynde without the added baggage of worrying about the future. We fell asleep that way, as close to each other as possible, in every sense of the word.

I can’t say how long we rested, but the next thing I knew, I was dreaming about being on board a submarine. Not a submarine from Cloral, either. This was right out of some old World War II movie, complete with sailors. We were diving. I knew that because the steady whoop sound of the dive horn was sounding. I’d never actually been aboard that kind of submarine, but I’d seen plenty of movies. This was just like that. It was one of those dreams where you stepped out of yourself and looked back on what was happening, because you knew it was a dream. I was floating somewhere near the periscope as the whooping horn continued, wondering why I was dreaming about movie submarines.

The answer came quickly. I felt Courtney bolt away from me and jump to her feet. It jostled me out of my dream and back to reality, sort of. I figured I was still half in my dream, because I was still hearing the whoop of the dive horn.

Of course, it wasn’t a dive horn. It wasn’t a dream.

Courtney knew that and was on her feet before I could tell the difference between dreamland and Black Water.

“Get up,” she commanded.