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Imminent Destruction
38. Toothpicks

38. Toothpicks

The beds in the infirmary had been cleaned and the floor freshly mopped. The bodies had been removed. A mild disinfectant replaced the odor of rot and the groaning had stopped. Bert went to the corner and lit a cigarette; Karen smacked it out of his mouth then smashed it with her heel.

“You have no respect for the injured!”

Bert took a seat at the magazine generator. He selected a magazine: Ranack’s Ultimate Hotties of Hotness In Skimpy Swimsuits Galore. But he didn’t have authorization to use the system, which was fine because a book already sat in the platform. He could read that. The cover was white with black block letters: Strength Through Unity, Strength Through Will. He turned to a random page, picked a paragraph, and tried to read it to himself. Karen pulled it from his hands and leafed through the pages.

“You’re actually trying to read something without pictures? Sometimes, you amaze me.”

“Just because I don’t understand it doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to look at it.”

“Well let’s see what you’re trying to read,” Karen read aloud from its pages. “The Buldethian order is the total unity of the people behind the decisions of the Judicature. The six members of the Judicature are the strongest men in the nation. Only they can make the decisions that alter the course of our unity. A soldier’s first duty is his total allegiance to the Judicature and the military commanders under the Judicature’s control.”

“Interesting.”

Karen continued to turn the pages idly, “This is so disconnected and odd. Can you believe they actually take this seriously?”

She flung the book on the table. Bert took it back.

“If you want to learn to read, be my guest,” she shrugged.

A neatly groomed officer wearing headphones entered. His hair poked from his head like millions of burnt tree stalks in marching formation, while his uniform smoothed flawlessly. The thin officer made eye contact with Corporal Jackson.

“Which one of these men is Mercenary Harold Defacto?”

Fade didn’t bother to move and looked listless, “I’m Captain Defacto, and you are?”

“I see you never bothered to use the cleansing chambers, mercenary.”

“And? Get to the point.”

“I would like to request the pistol you stole during your unprovoked assault on Private Somsa.”

“I don’t recall taking any pistols. Sure, I have a black army issue laser pistol. It’s my own. And I make a personal issue out of other people touching my weapons.”

“Give me all your weapon’s now, or we’ll be forced to take them.”

“I’m going to call you bluff, Lieutenant Forgisom.”

“How do you know my name and rank? You weren’t privileged with that information.”

“Do you know anything about how I captured a cruiser singlehandedly? Or would you like to experience that first hand?”

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Lieutenant Forgisom shivered.

Fade snickered, “Nothing to worry about. I’m an appreciative guy until you piss me off.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, we’re good. I’m at your mercy, after all.”

“You really should trust us more. We saved your life.”

“Get me an audience with the commander.”

“Fine,” Forgisom said, “I’ll talk it over with him. In the meantime, here are some of my ration tubes as a goodwill offering. No poison, I swear. Behave yourself, mercenary.”

Fade smacked his coat where the gun hid underneath it as the Lieutenant left.

“You had that guy quacking in his boots,” Bert said, “I just hope they don’t try to kill us because of you. We’re on their turf, just in case ya don’t know.”

“I’ll deal with any problems as they arise.”

The ration tubes tasted like wallpaper paste. Destiny took Fade’s lead and pushed the contents of a ration tube into her mouth, almost gagging.

“Aren’t you guys going to eat your rations?” Fade asked.

“I only eat real food,” Karen said.

“Maybe later, I’m not in the mood for glue,” Bert said.

“I’ll eat them then,” Fade said.

Destiny slapped his hand away. “No, you won’t, they’re not yours; besides, they may change their minds later.”

“I don’t. I mean… I could care less. Fine then.”

“Are you gonna to let her boss you around like that?” Bert asked, “I’m beginin’ to think you two are a couple.”

Fade swiped both tubes from their owners, squeezed their contents into his mouth, and swallowed quickly before Destiny could make a move to stop him. He dodged to keep Destiny from grabbing what remained of them out of his hand. He put his arm around her waist. An impish grin spread his lips as he pressed her against him. Her skin went white, then bright pink, before she started pushing to get out of his grasp. Her back felt warm through the soft blue fabric of her uniform. He let go as soon as she attempted to back away.

“You’re nothing but a depraved beast!” she scolded.

“You’re the one who jumped on me. I though you wanted little hug.”

“I’m not stupid! You wanted to press flesh.”

“If only there was a little more to press, I’d actually feel something.”

She forced a smile, then a giggle, “You have such a strange sense of humor, Fade. I don’t understand you at all.”

“I could care less. Really, I could.”

She started kicking him furiously in the shins, “Can you feel that! How about that! Maybe you can you feel that?! And That! And That!”

When he’d had enough, he tripped her leg and let her fall on her butt. His shin ached.

“Like I said, couldn’t feel a thing.”

Lieutenant Forgisom returned, “Captain Defacto, Commander Soel has requested that you meet with him in the conference room. I’ll escort you.”

Fade struggled to avoid limping.

“Follow me,” Forgisom practically marched up the steps.

Destiny pulled down her left eyelid with her middle finger and stuck out her tongue.

-----

The long conference table made from polished coal formed a sharp rectangle. The chairs, made of the same, lacked cushioning; their backs were carved from solid coal shales. Blank screens covered the walls. Lieutenant Ontogi Soel invited Fade to sit with a fluid hand motion toward an unforgiving chair nearby. Once Fade sat, Soel picked up papers scattered about the desk, and carefully looked them over before shuffling them into a neat pile. While waiting, Fade pulled a toothpick from his shirt pocket and balanced it vertically on the index finger of his favored hand. The same thing was done with additional toothpicks on each of his other fingers. They bounced upwards a centimeter, then two centimeters, then three. They landed perfectly each time, still balanced the way they had originally been placed. When the trick got Soel’s attention, Fade grinned.

“Don’t tell me, you performed in Grifter’s Intergalactic Circus?”

Fade thrust his arm forward; thin wooden missiles flew into the opposite wall, where they splintered into fragments.

“Balance, dexterity, concentration, and speed are far more important than strength. I’ve always believed that.”

“So that’s how you compensate for a lack of will, strength, loyalty, power, determination; I could go on. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Before we go any further. I’m sorry for my behavior at the cleaning chambers. It wasn’t a good display of self-control.”

“Another quality you lack?”

Fade grinned, “Well, I did just damage your new office. That self-control thing again. Sorry about that.”

“You didn’t damage anything. All you did was throw a few toothpicks.”

“You didn’t look at the wall.”

Five dents the size of an imperial coin, with cracks spreading outward from the center, littered the titanium wall. Lieutenant Soel pushed a small pile of paper toward Fade.