Battlehymn Part 6
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Battlehymn Part 6 Copyright Š 2011 by Zachary Ricks The audio podcast version of Battlehymn by Zachary Ricks is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. All other rights are reserved by the author. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at madpoetfiles.com. Sign up for updates and new episodes at exiles.madpoetfiles.com.
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Battlehymn Part 6 Part 13 - Whole Rest Cassandra, Princess of the Commonwealth, looked down on the reclining form of her brother, Arom. His dignified, almost beautiful features lay in repose. He looked so peaceful, like he could be sleeping. She kept her face carefully neutral, shading her expression ever so subtly toward contempt. It was a million miles from what she felt in her heart. The official story was that Arom had caught a rare, heretofore-unknown and highly contagious disease that required absolute quarantine until they knew more. He’d been connected to all manner of tubes, monitoring equipment, and apparently the best medical staff available. But Cassie knew the truth. What had appeared to be a medical ward had been an effectual prison. Arom had contracted a rare disease, all right. Rare in the house of Akosh, at least. He’d contracted a conscience, and worse, he’d contracted popularity, and an inability to keep his mouth shut. The conscience was certainly contagious, Cassie thought to herself. Here’s hoping that I don’t contract his penchant for speaking openly against our father. After a long look, she turned to face the audience. Queen Jovielle, eyes shining with tears, sat next to King Akosh on the front row. She clung to his broad shoulders. The King’s dark bearded face frowned at the coffin, as though in allowing himself to die, Arom had provided his father with yet another disappointment. Cassie shook her head, careful to keep her features hinting at scorn instead of sorrow. Her brother, one of the only people in the Commonwealth she could truly speak her mind to, was gone forever. A single tear slipped past her facade and rolled down her cheek as she took her seat on the front row. Her Lady, Ailer, reached up from behind her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. In the past, she would have clung to it, clung to any expression of human warmth. But not today. Not here. Not with the rest of her family in attendance. As the priest spoke, Cassie glanced down the row at the rest of the family. Her father’s expression remained a faint disapproval, and Jovielle’s gaze was fixed with rapt attention on the words of the priest.
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Battlehymn Part 6 Next was her eldest brother, Alexander, who took after their father with his broad shoulders and thick muscles, though his hair was their mother’s golden blonde. His expression was cold, distant, calculating. It was widely assumed that he would rule after their father, though that was by no means certain. Homer took more after their mother - more compact, but tall like their father. Homer kept his eyes on the priest, occasionally glancing to the left and right at the family, now leaning over to whisper in Alexander’s ear, then to whisper in the ear of their sister - Sarah. Sarah’s attitude was peaceful - regal - a mask of flawless beauty. But Cassie had been the victim of Sarah’s terrible rages throughout their childhood - a regular occurrence that had only been relieved when Sarah left to act as her father’s personal representative on Prospero, then on a travelling ambassadorship to the Terran Empire and the Cygnan Alliance. If half of the rumors Cassie had gathered from the staff through Ailer were true, then Sarah’s temper had not improved from travel. Next was Corwin, whose main contribution to the family’s reputation had been a series of highly public love affairs, a never-ending series of pictures of him in low company, and the occasional drunken brawl. His gaze wandered as he affected the drunken boor. Cassie knew better. Corwin was, like the rest of the family, a calculating, conniving snake. What did not reach the papers was Corwin’s connections with the Scythian underground, and through them to who knew how many pirates, assassins, thugs, and criminals. Corwin was just as much a player as any of them. Then Cassie, and next to her, the empty spot that would have been taken by Arom. They had, she imagined, benefitted from nothing so much as her mother’s inattention. They’d been raised mainly by a succession of nannies, then turned over to ladies in waiting and manservants while their mother had been traveling with her husband on a series of jaunts to ease tensions with the Cygnan Alliance, then to quell internal conflicts that had begun erupting around the Commonwealth. She and Arom had played and romped around the castle together, staying mostly clear of their other brothers and sisters as a survival tactic. And she’d gained an interest in their family history, which was colorful to say the least.
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Battlehymn Part 6 Intrigue, deception, usurpation, plots. Their family had been steeped in them from time immemorial. And this funeral was merely another round of the great game. The priest finished his words, and the royal family approached the casket for their final goodbyes. Cassie went first, touching her brother’s cold cheek, and smiling. You’re out now, brother. You wanted no part of this game, and now you’re well and truly free of it. I wish you well, wherever you are. She continued to the side of the dais to wait for the family. Corwin looked down at their dead brother with a sardonic smile, though he lingered for a moment, then bent over and whispered over the body, and placed something in his brother’s hand. He came over to stand next to Cassie, who glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He caught the glance, and spoke. “I owed him five credits. From a long time ago.” Cassie’s eyes widened. It had been a running joke between them that Corwin had lost a bet when they were children, and he always maintained that he’d won. Cassie nodded, her expression softening just a touch, then remembering the game they were all playing - were always playing - she restored her earlier faint scorn. “Still playing children’s games, Corwin?” she asked under her breath. “No, sister. I’m playing much more interesting games now. Not the kind you’d be interested in, though. I hear mother has you tied up with dance lessons.” He leered at her and waggled his eyebrows. Cassie buried her outrage and embarrassment, and turned back to see Sarah approaching them. She stood to Corwin’s left, then made a show of considering her nails. “How much longer will be required to stay here? I have urgent business waiting for me back on Prospero.” Corwin gave an almost imperceptible shrug. “You’re a princess. Leave as you like. Mother might have something to say about it, though.” Sarah gave Corwin an appraising glance, then her gaze flicked to Cassie for a heartbeat. Sarah’s eyes rolled away, and she had a smug look on her face. Cassie realized she’d just been weighed out as an opponent in the great game, and
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Battlehymn Part 6 summarily dismissed. Just as well, she thought to herself. And accurate, as far as it goes. I’m just a pawn on this board. Unbidden came a disturbing thought. Even a pawn can be queen, if it lives long enough… Her fists clenched, and her eyes widened for half a heartbeat. Maybe she was more her mother’s daughter than she realized. Homer and Alexander approached together, arms around each others’ shoulders, and as they approached, Homer went down the line, hugging each of them in turn. “Good to see you, Sarah, it’s been too long… Corwin, thank you for not showing up drunk… Cassie.” He squeezed her gently, then held her at arm’s length, looking at her with his dark eyes. “I’m sorry. I know you were closest to him.” She felt a rush of emotions, but the sharpest of them was fear. “He was our baby brother,” she said. Corwin nodded, his gaze still appraising. “You’re the baby of the family now, sister. We’ll have to take better care of you than we did of him.” Their eyes met for a moment, and Cassie returned his gaze without flinching or looking away. “Thank you, Corwin. Of course, I don’t share our brother’s predilection for going out into the world.” That’s what had finally pushed the family over the edge had doomed Arom, of course. He’d been out on various planets, talking openly about what he termed “the appropriate use of power”. It had been compelling, cogent stuff, but at its heart, it was a criticism of the King. And open rebellion was something Jovielle could not and would not abide. Maneuvering behind the scenes, though… Positioning one’s self to the greatest advantage… that was their great family pastime. The game would continue until one of them had enough influence, power, support, and wealth to take the throne and hold it. It was practically a family motto that kingship isn't something you receive. You must acquire it. Corwin nodded, and hugged her again, whispering in her ear, “Keep your head down, sister, and you’ll come through all right in the end.” Then he took his place in the line, between Alexander and Sarah.
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Battlehymn Part 6 Keep your head down? Cassie wondered to herself. Was that a warning? Are they that close to moving? Jovielle and King Akosh approached, and a group of men in dark uniforms took up their brother’s coffin. They followed it out of the church, to the waiting hearse. The rest of the day passed in a haze for Cassie. The reception line was interminable, countless nobles and prestigious citizens lining up to offer their condolences. She held her mask well in place, only slipping occasionally when a few of the more particularly venal men, and one woman, gave her a suggestive leer. Later that evening, as the sun was setting over Scythia, the family took the space elevator up to the King’s Retreat. The orbital platform was their family’s last redoubt, their bastion, their tower, and occasionally, their prison. They gathered near one of the walls, the scent of the nearby rose gardens filling their nostrils, as Jovielle and Akosh took the ashes and gathered the family around. Their father held the container, frowned at it, and looked up at them - the twisted wire crown on his head glintied in the failing light of the sun. “Arom… Arom spoke against his King, and though he was my own son, he was still a traitor.” He fixed them each with a harsh gaze. “I know this family - I saw the usurping actions of your grandfather. I know how I came to power. I am not unaware of the blood that flows through your veins.” He went down the line, gazing at them each in turn, but when he came to Cassie, he looked away. She was the least threat, he knew. Youngest now, no influence outside the castle, her actions carefully curtailed and controlled like a hothouse flower. “Arom had no,” Akosh hesitated, “respect, I suppose, for that tradition. He thought to change the game we all play in this family. And you see how that has ended.” At that, he did fix his gaze on Cassie. She kept her face calm, reposed under his penetrating stare. I’ve done nothing. Said nothing. Whispered… nothing. “So, my final wish to Arom is a curse. His body has been reduced to its component materials, and seeded with salt. His ashes will be scattered. May he never know rest.” At that, Akosh opened the container, and turned to one of the 7
Battlehymn Part 6 nearby garbage containers, pouring the ashes into the trash. Then he dropped in the empty urn, and vented the mass into space. “Learn this lesson well. This is a game, yes. But it’s one I’ve played for longer than you’ve been alive. And this is the price of failure.” Cassie glanced over at her mother’s face. Jovielle was flushed and her eyes wide with a strange hunger. Akosh took his wife’s hand and led her from the spot, followed by the taciturn Alexander, Homer of the considering eyes, fire-tempered Sarah, and Corwin, who even in this place among the family affected a slight slouch and a slightly disheveled look. Cassie lingered for a heartbeat, staring out the window at the place where her brother’s corporeal form had disappeared forever. Goodbye, Arom, she thought to herself. And damn you for leaving me here. She turned and followed the family back to the elevator, placidly returning to the hothouse to be cultivated to a purpose that was not her own.
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Battlehymn Part 6 Part 14 - Aria Haven wound up on drama programs a lot, as a source of people with nothing to lose, or a place where those with nothing to lose wound up. It was almost always portrayed as a dark, dirty, urban sprawl, run by gangs and hoodlums. Lawless. On the edge. Haven was a dual-cylinder construct, hanging approximately Earth distance from the system’s primary. Without a habitable planet in the system, the colony was already an anomaly. With the mirrors deployed to gather electricity and sunlight, and with the cylinders spinning to generate gravity, it looked peaceful enough from Shem’s vantage point. He sat on the Tangram’s bridge, flexing his fingers around an invisible guitar, and trying to control his anxiety over his new home. Ichigo and the Tangram’s crew seemed nice enough, but who knew what awaited him on the “ground”. He was seated at the one free duty station. Jared was seated at the other, busily checking some system or other. Ichigo had invited him to the bridge to watch the docking and get a first glimpse of his prospective home, with the understanding that his duty station was to be turned OFF and he was to keep his hands to himself. He had jumped at the chance. He twisted, and tilted his head, to no avail… until he heard Samantha’s amused voice from behind him. “Haven control, this is Tangram, requesting an intra-mirror approach path.” Shem glanced back at the redheaded pilot. She gave him a wink. The comm responded a moment later. “Tangram, this is Haven control. Sending path vector and approach data now. You’ll get here quicker if you don’t go sightseeing, Sam.” She chuckled. “Roger that, Haven. But we’ve got a tourist on board, and we did promise him a show.” “Show, huh? Stand by…” An evil chuckle came from the comm a moment later. “Yeah, all right. Sending revised path vector and approach data now.”
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Battlehymn Part 6 The Tangram’s angle of approach altered, and the ship slid between two of the massive mirrors that were attached to the cylinder at the starward end. They began a long transit of the orbital colony. He’d been expecting to see gray, pollution, sprawl - he knew there was a lot of manufacturing and refining that went on in Haven. What he saw were… trees. Something that looked like a… lake? Grass? Oh, there was definitely human habitation, but it was nothing like he’d imagined. As they proceeded, he saw on the side just rotating into view, something that looked more urban, with what might have been factories and refineries, but it seemed off somehow. There was something missing, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Not exactly what they show you in the vids, is it?” Shem looked back to see Samantha smirking at him from the pilot’s seat. “Oh, wait. I see what he was looking at. Get a load of this, Shem…” The viewscreen at Shem’s data station came to life, and zoomed in on a particular section of the colony. At first, Shem couldn’t make out what he was looking at. The colony background was spinning, what looked like some planes were moving across the sky beneath them… then the view tightened in on the planes… and they weren’t planes. They were… small vehicles, three or four wheels, and they were racing across the window that held in the atmosphere. “Kids,” chuckled Jared. “If they really wanted a race, they’d tackle some of the micro-g courses at the hub. “Nothing beats the wind in your face and the thrill of a hot engine between your legs,” responded Samantha. As Shem watched, one of the scooters reached some point on the window and turned back. The rest followed, one of the three wheelers apparently taking the corner so tight and fast that the inside wheel came up. That one gained a small lead coming out of the turn as they began heading back towards the habitat section of the colony. “Won’t they leave marks? Won’t the maintenance crews get upset?” Shem asked, slightly horrified at the spectacle. Racing across the windows, nothing but glass between them and the cold vacuum of space… 10
Battlehymn Part 6 “Shem,” Jared said, “those are the maintenance crews. Or at least a few of them are. They run on sections due for a cleaning anyway, so no harm no foul.” “But… that can’t be safe.” “Yeah, that one idiot with the three-wheeler, that’s got to be Batas. He’s really going to hurt himself if he doesn’t watch it.” Jared responded with a shrug. Shem shook his head, remembering what Ichigo said about craziness in the Cohort. Maybe the whole colony was at a high-level function of insanity. Eventually, they reached the end of the colony and the Tangram circled around. It sailed into a massive docking bay, and began to rotate to match the station’s motion. Shem watched, fascinated, as magnetic clamps rose from the floor of the colony on cables. Once they had attached, Jared shut down the engines, and Samantha took her hands off the controls. “Haven dock, we’re clamped and ready to descend.” The cabled clamps guided the ship down to a berth that Shem could see was slightly off to the side of the main port. The port bustled with activity, with what looked like no less than six ships that he could see taking on and dropping off various cargoes. He wondered what that would be like, traveling the stars and trading with the natives of a hundred civilized worlds, through the Commonwealth, the Lyrans, and who knew where else? About forty feet up, the clamps released the Tangram, and she slid forward and down. The ship landed gently, colony-powered grav pads easing the Tangram into her docking berth soft as a dandelion’s fluff. Shem felt a slight shifting in his inner ear as the grav pads and the ship’s own internal gravity powered down, leaving them resting on the spinning surface of Haven itself. Ichigo nodded at the two crew-members. “Good job. Jared, we’ll check the sensor readings against Haven proper after dinner, and we can get started on resupply and refueling in the morning. Sam, excellent job as always. We’ll go over the after-action with the cohort tonight also after dinner, so make sure the appropriate data is synced before you shut down the ship computers.” Then he
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Battlehymn Part 6 looked at Shem. “Grab your gear… ah, that is… your guitar, and meet me downstairs. Fifteen minutes?” Shem nodded and fifteen minutes later he was walking down the ramp to the surface, guitar strapped to his back. A light breeze was blowing across the docking bay, which was a flat pad of concrete. Shem looked out at the surface that curved up and away all around him, and then straight up… and down onto the roofs of buildings on two other strips of livable surface between transparent sections that allowed sunlight to enter. His head began to spin, and he staggered a little, staring up at the lack of a horizon. Naji laughed as she came down the gangplank behind him. She was guiding an automated stretcher with David’s reclining form in it. He was petting Maya, who had taken up semi-permanent residence on the big man’s stomach. Shem put his head down, and put his hands on his knees. He focused on the ground, and started taking deep breaths. “Same thing happens to everyone here, kid. You get used to it, believe me. Soon, anything else just won’t feel right.” David reached out and patted him on the back as he passed. Shem nodded and waved vaguely at them as they went by, keeping his head down. He took another gulp of air. He could hear David and Naji continuing a conversation. “So, how long do you think it’ll be before I can get out of this thing?” “Doc’s gotta clear you first.” “Ah, that’ll be easy. She likes me. I’ll be out of here in no time.” “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Naji said as their voices faded. Shem saw the pristine metal gangplank of the Tangram, black strips of frictiontape laid down to allow sure footing. He slowly eased his head up to get a better look at his surroundings. The Tangram had landed in an unmarked bay. The magnetic clamps had retreated, and Shem could see that they rotated around the interior of the colony on a track, with the cables attached to the roofs of train cars. The cars secured to rails that ran the circumference of Haven’s interior. He didn’t look up, keeping his eyes 12
Battlehymn Part 6 on just what he could see back behind the ship. Apparently, the cars were humancontrolled, as Shem could see a person aboard waving at him. He weakly waved back. On the other side of the rails, Shem saw grass, and flowers, and trees… curving up the side of the interior… He immediately turned away, and looked down, walking forward to the surface of the station itself. Keeping his eyes forward, and down, he turned back and saw brown walls surrounding the ship’s nose, largely matching its lines. Above him, a walkway extended from the building toward the side of the ship at the flight deck level. He walked forward, following the path that Naji and David had taken until he was just inside the door. A hallway extended off to either side, and what appeared to be a locker room of some kind was directly in front of him. He peered inside, to see how closely it resembled similar facilities they’d had back at the shelter. “The ready room.” Ichigo said, coming up behind him. “Where the pilots prep for launch either from here or from the Tangram. The ready room was split into two sides. “Men on the left, women on the right,” Ichigo said, as Shem was just about to move toward the right side. He stopped with a blush. “Ah. No signs?” Ichigo shrugged. “No one makes the mistake more than once. And usually, someone’s there to tell them the first time.” “Right.” Shem looked around. “So, this is Haven?” Ichigo laughed. “This is the Kami’s main facility. Haven? Haven is quite a bit bigger than just this. Come on, follow me, and I’ll show you around.” First, they went by Ichigo’s quarters, where he set his baggage down. Shem was shown quarters, mess area, conference rooms, a rec room with a pool table and some vid stations. The walls there were corkboard, with a few notes posted in around. Off to the side, an area of the rec room went down into slightly lower section, dominated by a single large table where a number of small models were laid out on an intricately created terrain of desert sand, brush, and rocky ruins. “What’s that?” Shem asked, pointing.
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Battlehymn Part 6 “Mechs and Monsters. A few of the pilots are huge fans, and most everyone’s taken a turn playing. Every now and then someone points out that they could be playing with animated holos, but then I start hearing about how the holos aren’t as ‘authentic’ and ‘betrays the traditions of our gaming forefathers’ and what-not. I’ve played a few rounds myself. Feel free to look, but for heaven’s sake, don’t touch anything, or you’ll never hear the end of it.” Shem approached carefully, studying the miniatures. He recognized some of the armor shapes from his time aboard the Tangram, but there were some that were new. And there were more than a couple of monstrous-looking aliens, all fully painted with loving attention to detail. “Wow,” Shem said. “You can almost see the saliva dripping from the fangs of this… lizardy-ape guy here.” “King Wotan!” said a girly voice from behind Ichigo. A young woman, apparently a year or two younger than Shem, stepped into the room from the doorway opposite. “Destroyer of worlds, eater of flesh, and general all-around evil jerk-face.” Curly black hair framed her heart-shaped face. Brown eyes shone in glee as she described the lizard-ape. She descended the steps down to the Mechs and Monsters area and lovingly reached out to pet the miniature’s little head. “I painted him myself.” She giggled. Ichigo nodded. “Shem, meet my niece, Ivy.” “Ivy Kamiyama. Pleased to meet you, Shemp.” “Uh, Shem.” “Oh, right. Shem.” She turned from him to Ichigo. “So, Uncle… we’ve been practicing a lot lately, and we can’t wait to show you!” Ichigo nodded and waved. “Later. Tomorrow morning. You can set up the first scenario, and I’ll set up the second one, okay?” Ivy gave her uncle a fierce smile, and as she did, Shem thought he saw a bit of Naji in the girl’s expression. “Sure thing. Get ready to be amazed and astounded.” “Sure. I’m sure I’ll be very impressed. By how quickly you can turn your armor into a pile of smoking rubble.” He nodded to himself. “Yes, very impressed.” 14
Battlehymn Part 6 “Hmph!” Ivy snorted, turning her nose up and retreating from the rec room. She was the very picture of offended dignity. Ichigo gave her retreating form a wry smile. “Most of the Kami are locals. She’s a good kid, came here with her mom when my brother passed away six years ago. ‘Course, now she’s convinced she wants to be an armor pilot, and join the cadre.” He shook his head. “She’ll make a great pilot, some day. Good reflexes, decent instincts. Just needs focus and some training, really.” He paused, staring at the door where she’d gone. Well, let’s head up. I imagine most of the cohort will be in shortly, they weren’t expecting us to be back for another couple of days.” Shem followed, and they went upstairs, to an area that reminded Shem of the flight deck, but much bigger. A number of people were here, some in armors, bringing them in from the Tangram. A short man with dark black hair and a disapproving expression on his unshaven face approached them, holding a large wrench in one hand. “Hey, what have you been doing with my armors? Where’s the missing one?” “The Jotun? Sorry, Markus, but it was a total loss.” “Humph,” the little man grumped. “That should have been my call to make, Ichigo. Sure, it’s your name on the paper, but who builds and rebuilds these things?” He waved with the wrench around the bay. “Who upgrades and refits? Who makes sure they’re in tip top shape so you chuckleheads can run around and blow stuff up?” He tapped his chest with the wrench handle. “Me. That makes them my armors, and I should be the one to write one off when it comes to that.” He glanced back at an open slot. “David… made it, though, right?” Ichigo nodded. “Naji took him to the med lab. Doc will take care of him.” The little man cackled with glee. “Oh, she’ll take care of him all right. She’s got him right where she wants him.” He laughed again, then seemed to notice Shem for the first time. “Oh, so you can’t be bothered to bring back my armor, but you’re picking up strays?” His gaze drifted to the guitar strapped across Shem’s back. “What’s he supposed to be? Morale support?”
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Battlehymn Part 6 Ichigo indicated Shem. “Markus, this is Shem Dormungard. Shem, Markus Forsythe. Markus is our resident mechanic and armorer. Markus, Shem is…” Ichigo paused. “Shem is considering joining the Kami in a support role.” “Support?” He paused and blinked, then cackled in glee as he looked Shem up and down. “Found your skald?” Markus said. “He looks scrawny. He ever used an armor before?” Ichigo shook his head. “Nope. If he had, he wouldn’t be walking around with such disreputable figures as you and me - he’d be hobnobbing with nobles. After they’d finished scrambling his brains.” Markus nodded. He pointed the wrench at Shem. “All right, kid. I know Ichigo thinks he’s in charge and everything, but you want to so much as glance in the direction of one of my armor suits, you talk to me first.” He prodded Shem once in the chest with the wrench. “Because you do not want me mad at you.” He prodded Shem once more to emphasize his point, then turned on his heel and began bawling out one of the pilots who was walking a suit of armor back from the Tangram. “Markus is good people. But he’s serious about not getting on his bad side. Once had a pilot chewing gum in one of his armors. When Markus found out, someone washed the pilot’s sheets in sugar water and turned up her thermostat after she’d fallen asleep. No one saw anything, no one can prove anything. But she woke up stuck to the sheets on her bed, and had to take a shower to get unstuck. And a small stand was placed next to her armor with a dish on it, and a note - ‘gum goes here’,” Ichigo started walking down the length of the deck. “So pay attention to what he says. He’s the best armor designer and mechanic I’ve ever seen.” Shem nodded. He saw Naji enter, wearing the armor she’d saved him in. Instinctively, he waved at her, and she waved back for a half a second before she caught herself, and her wave became a shaken fist. “You’ll meet the other pilots over the next few days,” Ichigo said. “I’ve got some things I need to straighten out here, and you know your way back to the rec room, right? I’ll swing down after I’m done here.”
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Battlehymn Part 6 Shem nodded, watching the bustle of activity. He spied a dark corner away from the rest of the activity, behind one of the larger, thicker armor suits. “All right, see you later.” He turned and walked toward the door, then changed his direction and sat back in the corner, tuning his guitar and keeping his eyes on the moving armors. It was like a well-oiled machine. Everyone had a job, everyone knew their place. More than that, it was like a family, Shem thought to himself, as he heard the pilots yelling back and forth to each other in good-natured ribbing. And it takes all kinds to make up a family. He started playing, an instrumental tune to warm up the fingers and get his mind calmed down. The world might change around him, the ground might drop away, but so long as he had his music, everything would be all right. He started playing in earnest then, something from the old masters back on Earth. His fingers moved through the simple melodies as he picked his way through the tune. When he was done, he switched to something a little more complicated - Bach. Bach was a real bear to play on the guitar, but it sounded fantastic when you did it just right. Bach was one of Shem’s favorites, just for the technical brilliance. You played Bach like it was a machine. Steady. Solid. Right on the beat. No fancy filigrees or mucking around with tempos. Not even a lot of expression with volume. Bach had it all built in already, and all you had to do was push it out a note at a time. And when you did it right, it was absolutely breathtaking. He flubbed three notes, but managed to get through the piece without dropping the rhythm and tempo, which was an accomplishment. When he stopped to look up, he realized that the flight bay had gotten very quiet, and his last note was echoing off the far wall. “Oh,” he said in a medium loud voice. “Sorry. Am I distracting things? I can head downstairs…” “Kid, if you can keep playing like that, I’ll keep you around just to hear it.” Markus called from the bay opening. “You sing too?” “Later, with the singing, Shem.” Ichigo called. “But keep playing if you want.” Shem sat back, flexing his fingers and picking his next tune in his head. “How about ‘Bird of Paradise’ or ‘Scotland the Brave’?”
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Battlehymn Part 6 “Scotland the Brave?” another pilot called out. “Aw, let’s hear that.” Shem nodded and started tapping his foot on the deck floor to mark out the time. He’d practiced this one over and over, trying to mimic the sound of the bagpipes with one constant note plucked over and over, and the melody played on the rest of the strings to keep the tone constant. He thought it was halfway decent, and after a moment he heard the pilot singing in a clear tenor along with the tune. “Somewhere a ship and crew, sails o’er the ocean blue, Bringing, oh Bringing, My bonnie back to me…” Shem nodded along with the tune, though these were definitely not the lyrics he knew. As he played, and the pilot sang, the armors started moving again, a little slower, a little quieter, the better to hear the music, but moving all the same. And as they did, Shem felt a sense of something he’d thought he’d never feel again. He almost felt… at home.
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Battlehymn Part 6 About the Author: Zachary Ricks is a writer, publisher, podcaster, and attorney. He learned to read at a young age, and had the benefit of a mother who read to him regularly. However, when he was five, his parents made the tactical error of taking him to see Star Wars. He's been a fan of genre fiction ever since, scaling his parent's bookshelf to get at his mom's collection of Piers Anthony, Alan Dean Foster, Terry Brooks and Edgar Rice Burroughs novels. He lives in Austin TX, with his wife and daughter. Find his current writings at madpoetfiles.com, and his publishing venture Flying Island Press - at www.flyingislandpress.com.
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