J Mauldin - Final Solution

“Are you saying you want to redistribute the wealth again? I mean, there sure are lazy folks who’d love to see that happen. Just like those who aspire to be on disability. I swear they hurt themselves on purpose. Actually, I did know a guy who put his hand in an aluminum press for that very reason.”

“Redistribute? No, not exactly.” She reached up and untied her hair, letting the bun disintegrate into a twisted, beautiful mess of raven strands. “But it’s time to share things. Why not profit share? So that if the colonies do well, we all do well. And if everyone is doing well, I bet you a million credits people will stop being pissed off at an enemy I’m beginning to believe was invented by our government just to unify us against someone other than them. There is more than enough space for two independent factions in the market. We have billions of customers back on Earth.”

I drew up my knees and peered over them. “The Axis is a fake?”

“No, they’re real, but the fact that we need to hate them doesn’t have to be.”

“You don’t think they attacked first, at Ceres. You think we started this war?”

“Just a hunch. Maybe a misunderstanding.”

“Well, I think you might be right.” I took hold of her hands. “Things need to change. Just know I’m with you all the way. Let’s make a better future, whatever it takes.”

“Thanks, David.” She leaned in and took my face in her hands, kissing me on the lips. “I—David. I just, I’ve always.”

“I know.”

She held up her right hand and removed the black gasket, placing it on her left ring finger instead. Her eyes widened as the silent question hung between us, words she desperately wished to say but couldn’t. I gently pushed her back onto the bed, taking her hands and holding them above her head, our attention never wavering. We kissed like two hungry souls hell bent on devouring one another, our spectral teeth removing great chunks to be swallowed, metabolizing all our experiences into an unbreakable energy. We could never again be separated, never be sifted into separate entities or be seen as two elements apart from their compound. We were one symbiotic organism, mutated and reconfigured for a higher purpose.

We would change the world.

It felt kind of good to be stumbling around the ship without a care, not having to worry who saw what or if I was acting a fool. It was like being a kid again, like I’d never signed up for the military in the first place. I knew it was an illusion, this break, but I was holding on to it for all it was worth. It was my illusion, no one else’s. Mine.

Two months remained before we reached our target, and like the rest of the crew, I took full advantage. For a solid week I ate steak, hot, juicy steak, and drank, drank till my stomach lining began to erode. I knew God was against us living in excess, but I had a lot of making up to do. Years of it, in fact. I figured it was fine. Besides, me and the big guy had been talking about it every day. Being drunk had helped strengthen my relationship with God. Seriously.

Liberty had been generous with the crew, opening up the stores for whatever they wished, though she still held back some luxuries. If we survived this ordeal we’d need supplies to siege our government, and there was no telling how long that would take. A week? A month? A couple of years? We had the fuel and air to last, but we might not have enough to eat if we gorged ourselves.

On duty, I stumbled to the aft of the ship, trying my best to hide the bulge of glass in my jumpsuit. Griffin caught me halfway to the back, blocking my path with an arm.

“Give it over,” she said, motioning with an open palm.

“Give what over?” I put a hand against the bulkhead and grinned.

She growled, “David.” And her eyes turned fiery.

“What did you call me?”

“Uhh. Sir, please give it over.”

I fished the bottle from my jumpsuit pocket and gave it up. “Fine, fine. Now you’re playing the role of big sister? Damn, did that change fast.”

“You look terrible,” she said, half grinning. “Would you like some coffee, sir?”

“I suppose.” I put a palm to my head and groaned. There it was, the headache moving in. That was why I’d kept drinking. “Ahh, shit.”

She slipped the nearly empty bottle in her pocket. “I’ll ask Doc for a couple tabs of acetaminophen.”

“Something stronger, please. Otherwise, you might as well mix my coffee with baby formula.”

Griffin eyed me and shook her head. “The things I have to put up with.” She walked off down the hall. “I think I see now why they don’t let us have alcohol on board.”

“Hey! Just because I have poor impulse control doesn’t mean…” I let my words trail off. I had no idea where I was going with that.

I made for the Power Core and found a seat at the control panel. Kelly was already there, checking the Photon Focusers’ alignment.

“What’s up, Kelly?” I asked, leaning back in my chair, hands behind my head. It was still weird not to see César in his place. I wasn’t sure if that would ever change.

Kelly said nothing for a moment, holding on to a silent, pensive look. He tapped the same button on his panel three times, even though the triggered option had already appeared on his screen. The freakishly long nail of his pinky finger trailed the edge of the keys.

“You alright?” I asked.

He stopped and turned his chair to face me. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“The man in the cell, our former Captain, was he really going to kill everyone on Europa? And at the risk of his own people?” Kelly’s words were as heavy as lead.

I took a long breath. “Sure looks like it. And, he would have killed my family too. But what do I care? What did they ever do for me?”

“Sir?”

“Nothing. You were saying.”

“Well, how can someone do something so terrible? Does he have no conscience?”

“I don’t know.” My head was too thick for such a heavy discussion. “But I think the war changed him. Has it changed you since your family died?”

“It has, but not like that… I only want to protect life now. I don’t want to take it. I never do. Never have. It’s too easy to destroy. So hard to create.”

“Then we have that in common. I wish the Razor would respond and we could work this out with words. Words are a lot less messy.”

“Yes they are.” His eyes fell onto the floor for a moment. “But is Liberty not her father’s daughter? Will we not be sent to do the same? We have a payload powerful enough to kill every one of the Axis.”

“But we won’t.” My head throbbed. Where the hell was Griffin with that blasted coffee? If she was gonna take away my liquor, might as well give me something good in its place.

“How can you be so sure, sir? There’s hate in her heart.”

“Trust me, I know. Though she doesn’t bear that sort of ill will, even if there is some hate. We all have a little.” Like I hated this fucking headache. And even though I’d created it all on my own, I wanted to project it on anyone other than me.

Kelly nodded, but didn’t seem convinced. “I hope you’re right. I don’t think my conscience could carry such a weight. How can things ever be set right if so many bodies are added to the count? Does death pay for death?”

I shook my head and felt sick. His words had punched me right in the gut. I was starting to hope I was free from my debts. “The scales can never be set right. We just have to learn to deal with the outcome.”

He wrung his hands and sighed.