Epilogue
“You feeling it yet?”
<The effects are slowing down my processing, yes, but by a very small percentage.>
“Well, don’t worry. There’s a long way to go.”
Rev swirled his beer, then drained it. Maybe it was time to go to something stronger.
Look at me, getting drunk and it’s not even sixteen-hundred. Screw it.
He punched in a rum and coke. Leteeka’s had been built almost two hundred years before, and not much had changed over that time. It still used the drink trains that were evidently popular back then. Rev idly watched as his drink rose on a trolley from behind the bar and slotted into the rail that ran along the ceiling. The trolley clicked as it followed the programmed path to his table, then went down the elevator to his waiting hand.
Later in the evening, the place would be packed, and trolleys would be crisscrossing the ceiling with drinks. But at the moment, there were only two other patrons, each quietly nursing drinks.
Rev didn’t want to be drinking alone, but the extension had messed up a lot of plans. Today had been their planned discharge meet-up to celebrate the completion of their obligations. But they were still obligated, so there was nothing to celebrate.
No one had mentioned Leteeka’s, but no one had to. And it wasn’t until two hours ago that Rev thought screw it and asked the lieutenant for a day pass. If the platoon commander thought it was for him to tell his family he wasn’t coming home, well, that was his fault for not asking.
The door opened, and Rev eagerly looked up, but it was just a leech—a businessman, by the looks of it—coming in for a quick drink before going on to do whatever businessmen did.
“At least you’re here with me,” he subvocalized as he took a sip of this drink.
<It would be rather difficult for me to be anywhere else.>
Rev hesitated a moment, then slowly lowered the rum and coke. “Did you just make a joke?”
<It wouldn’t be classified as a joke, according to most sources. Merely a humorous aside. At an eighty percent PQ, that capability is unlocked.>
“Well, I’ll be damned. You are full of surprises. Can you tell a real joke?”
<It would depend on many different factors and how they lined up. At a higher PQ, those instances would be greater.>
“So, if I up your PQ again, you can tell me a joke?”
<That would most likely be the case.>
Rev considered it. He still thought it was a little weird that Tomiko and some of the others treated their AIs as if they were real people. But he was a little tipsy, and he was curious. Worst case basis, he could always shift it back.
“Okay. Raise your PQ to ninety percent.”
<Done.>
“So, tell me a joke.”
<What do you call an alligator in a vest?>
“I don’t know. What?”
<An investigator.>
“Shit. That’s horrible. If that’s the best you can do, I’m going to set your PQ back at fifty.”
<I didn’t say I would be able to tell you a good joke.>
“Well, you weren’t lying, at least. So, can you tell me a good joke?”
<Eventually. The more I tell, the more I can narrow down what you find humorous. That is what AIs do, after all.>
Rev took a large gulp of his drink. That was a pretty wasted experiment, but it had taken up two minutes of his time where he’d otherwise be wallowing in self-pity. He decided to leave his AI at ninety.
And it was right. AIs got better at everything with more data. He didn’t use his AI as much as others did, so his wasn’t as advanced as theirs.
There wasn’t any reason to limit his usage, he knew. It was that the concept of having an AI residing in his brain was still uncomfortable, even after two-and-a-half years. Something artificial, as the term indicated.
Maybe I should give in and call it my battle buddy like everyone else.
But it wasn’t that exactly. Tomiko was his battle buddy.
He drained his glass and ordered another. He wasn’t drunk yet, but he could tell he was on his way. And he knew that was making his judgment suspect.
Screw it.
“Hey, did you ever wish I’d given you a name?”
<A name is merely a label, and how you address me is up to you.>
“But do you want a name?”
Surprisingly, there was a brief pause, as if it was trying to formulate an answer.
No, you’re just drunk.
<“Want” has an emotional connotation. I do not think that is an accurate representation of how my process functions. But if I could want anything, it is for us to work as a closely meshed team. That is what I am programmed for. Prior research indicates that naming an AI by its principle does improve its acceptance, which has a follow-on effect of improving its interoperability and efficiency. Within those parameters, if you choose to assign me a name, there is an increased probability that I will be of use to you.>
That was the longest his AI had ever spoken to him. Maybe that was the increase in PQ he’d just given him, but that could have been a programmed response, put there to try and convince stubborn bastards like him to mesh closer with their AIs.
“So, you do want a name.”
His AI remained silent.
“Even if it was something stupid, like . . .”
He took a moment to let out a belch.
“. . . like Burp? Not a real name?”
<The fact that it is a name is what’s important. Not what the name is.>
“Really? I can name you Burp?”
<You can name me anything.>
His rum and coke arrived, and he drained half of it.
Nah. Tempting, but that’s too stupid, even if I am hammered.
“Let’s try something with a little more class.” Rev furrowed his brow, chewing on the possibilities, then thought back to the day he’d made his mistake—the one that made him a Marine. “How about Punch? Happy with that?”
<It is not for me to be happy or not. Punch is a name, and I will respond to it.>
But it—he—sounded more upbeat. Or that could be the rum speaking.
“Give me another joke, Punch. A better one.”
<Why couldn’t the pony sing in the choir?>
“OK, I give up. Why?”
<He was a little horse.>
Rev groaned. “You’re going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to keep your name.”
* * *
It didn’t get any better. Rev half-thought that the alcohol was having a stronger effect on his AI . . . on Punch than he was letting on. But Rev was content to just sit there, head back, eyes closed. He’d switched to Cygnus Gold, which was eating up his account, but what else was he going to do with his money? Before too long, the regiment would be off again, taking on the Centaurs, and if he was going to get his ass killed this next time, he didn’t want to die with money in his account.
“So, you didn’t bother to bring me?”
Rev opened one eye.
Tomiko was standing over him, not looking happy. “I went looking for you after getting back from the armory, but you were nowhere to be found. And now I see why. Looks like you’ve been here for a while,” she said, pointedly looking at the empty pitcher and glasses.
“I got the lieutenant to give me a day pass.”
“And you didn’t get one for me? What kind of friend does that?”
“I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Of course, I was coming. We made a pact for today, right?”
“No, we didn’t. The pact was for our EOS, and in case you missed it, this isn’t our EOS anymore.”
“Yeah, I know,” Tomiko said with a sigh, taking a seat beside him. “And when I couldn’t find you, I knew you were here. I wasn’t going to let you drown your sorrows alone. We’re still alive and kicking, so that deserves some sort of celebration, right?”
“Thanks for coming, Miko.”
“You’re my boy, right?” she said, punching him in the arm. “Now how about a drink?”
“I’m drinking Cygnus Golds now. You want that?”
“Hell, yes, if you’re buying.”
Rev put in the order, then said, “Hey, Punch is telling me jokes.”
“Who?”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you. I named my AI.”
“Punch? That name sucks!”
“It was kinda the first thing that came to my mind,” he said, opening his mouth and letting out another belch.
“You’re a weird one, Rev,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Does Pikachu tell jokes?”
“Jokes? Of course.”
“Are they any good?”
“Oh, hell no, boy!”
“OK, Punch’s suck big time. I was wondering if he was defective.”
“Like father, like son.”
“Hey, my jokes are good. And he’s not my son.”
Tomiko snorted. “If you say so.”
“No, really.”
“Look, we can terraform a world, we can travel FTL around the galaxy, but we can’t seem to make an AI that can tell a good joke.”
Tomiko’s drink arrived, and she took an appreciative sip. “Pretty good stuff. Thanks.”
“What else are we going to do with all the big credits they pay us?
The front door opened, and Rev said, “Look who else just got here.”
“Marine treadheads, arriving!” Tomiko yelled, holding up her glass. “Better get some of these Cygnus Golds before Rev runs his account dry.”
“I’m in,” Bundy said as he hurried over, Ten only half a step behind.
“So good of you to be so generous with my credits,” Rev said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Like you said, what else are you going to do with it?”
But Rev had already ordered two more.
“I didn’t know you two were coming,” Rev told them as they took their seats.
“Why wouldn’t we?”
“Because—”
Tomiko put her hand over his mouth and said, “He already gave me that song and dance. And he’s been here since . . . when did you get here, Rev?”
He tilted his hand down to where her hand was still covering his mouth, and she removed it.
“About fifteen-fifteen. Like I said, I got a day pass.”
“Well, then, we’ve got some drinking to catch up on,” Bundy said.
“Thanks for coming,” Rev said.
“We made a pact,” Ten reminded him.
“But it isn’t our EOS.”
“You think we’re going to be that anal about it? You think we need a reason to get together?” Bundy asked.
“No, I guess not. And here are your drinks.”
It only took another twenty minutes for the rest to arrive. Orpheus, Fyr, and Yancey came alone, and Cricket and Udu, no surprise, came in together.
Bundy bought the next round, a pitcher of Boar Tail Stout, the pride of Hanson’s Landing, where his father had been born. God-awful stuff, but it was booze, and no one turned it down.
“Hey, Bundy. Does your AI tell jokes?” Rev asked.
Bundy sipped his Boar Tail, closing his eyes in appreciation. “Yeah, why?”
“Are they funny?”
“Shit, no. Once again—why?”
“Rev finally broke down and named his battle buddy,” Tomiko said.
“Ah, you are one of us now, brother.” He made a papal-like sweeping sign of the cross in front of Rev and said, “Go forth with your guardian angel and defeat the demons of hell.”
“Piss off.”
But maybe he needed to improve the coordination between Punch and himself. The next time he went into a fight—and there was no doubt in his military mind that the regiment was gearing up for another battle—he couldn’t count on blind luck to pull him through.
Cali Hu and Jonah Wisteria came in together and joined them for a drink before wandering off to a booth in the back. Strap with some of his DC classmates waved as they came in. A few others said hello, but the table was for their crew. Tonight was theirs.
Rev shouldn’t have been surprised that everyone had shown up, but he was. He’d been so wrapped up in his own situation that he’d forgotten that his friends, except for Bundy, Fyr, and Yancey, were in the same boat. And if he was going to be there, so were they.
What really was surprising, however, was that they all had survived in the first place. They’d been through two major battles, battles that had decimated the regiment, yet they’d all come through. What were the chances of that happening?
“I’m not asking you,” he subvocalized, cutting Punch off before he could answer.
Probably too drunk to calculate it, anyway.
But he knew they were lucky. Damned lucky. Their DC class had lost over half of their numbers, yet the nine of them were alive? Not unscathed, but alive and kicking.
Maybe Saint Chesty really was looking out for us.
Not all of them, he reminded himself. She may not have made the pact to meet tonight, but she was one of them, nonetheless.
He stood, a little unsteadily, and raised his Boar Tail.
“To Krissy. Respect to the fallen.”
“Respect,” the others shouted.
Rev started to say something else, how they missed them all, how he wished she was there, but the standard refrain was enough. Nothing he could say would top it.
He sat back down, feeling the effects of too much alcohol.
He half-listened in as Yancey got animated, arguing with Orpheus that The Last Hurrah was the best holovid of the last decade, something he brought up almost every time he was drunk. And Orpheus was egging him on. As usual.
These were good people, not just good Marines. People with whom he was closer to than his own family.
Is that right? Closer than my family?
He thought about it for a moment. Maybe it was true. He’d do anything for Neesy, and he was extremely close to his father. He loved his mother and Grover. But was that the same? Could it match the bonds forged in combat?
He gave Tomiko a long look, one that she caught.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Strange look for nothing.”
“Nah. Just thinking. I love you. All of you,” he said louder to the rest.
“Cut him off,” Udu said. “He’s going to get maudlin.”
“No, really. I love all of you. And I’m glad we’re here right now.”
“Really? You wouldn’t rather be going to the guildhall tonight?” Tomiko asked. “You’ve been bitching about our extension for two weeks now.”
“And you haven’t?”
She just shrugged.
“But no, I wouldn’t rather be at the guildhall. I’d rather be here with you.”
And that was true, he realized. He wasn’t really angry that he was extended. It was just that it was forced on him. He had no say in it, just as he’d had none when he was conscripted. He didn’t like to be helpless, not able to control his own destiny.
In a way, it was a relief. He’d liked being a Marine, he liked being part of something bigger than he was, something in service to all of humanity. But he’d been too chickenshit to re-enlist on his own. Maybe chickenshit wasn’t the right word. He’d just been too unwilling to change his plans—too passive.
But now, it had been taken out of his hands, and he really was OK with the result, if not how it came about. He was still a Marine, and there were certainly worse things to be.
Tomiko gave him a hug and said, “And we love you, too.”
“I think I’m going to cry,” Yancey said, wiping away fake tears.
“Eat me,” Rev said, throwing a coaster at him.
He settled back in his chair, at ease with life. Another battle was coming, and he might not see any of his friends again. But at this very moment, he was content.
“Well, Punch, it looks like we’re going to be together for a bit longer. Guess we’re just going to have to kick us some Centaur ass.”
<You’ve got that right, Rev.>
* * *
Rev will return in CHILDREN OF ANGELS, coming April 2021. Preorder now on Amazon.
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