another taste from War Torn

Scoping in on Cass, Nathan could see that the Bio-bot’s movements had become even more labored. Whatever her affliction, it appeared to be worsening.

To his surprise, he felt a twinge of remorse at her impending demise. And he realized it was more than just the loss of her computer skills and her ability to tote supplies. He felt like he was losing a friend. He shook his head, almost laughed at the absurdity of the upwelling emotion. First he was on the verge of tears for a dog, now a robot. “You truly are one pathetic excuse for a soldier, Corporal Baht,” he muttered, mocking himself in his best Kaliss impression.

With a cleansing breathe, he shook the distraction and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He raised the hi-tech binoculars, pressing the unit hard against his face as a reminder to concentrate.

For as far as the eye could see, and according to every sensor on the multi-scanner all was quiet. Too quiet. The eerie twilight silence filled him with a sense of impending doom that he just couldn’t shake, his mind as unsettled as the planetary dust.

Despite the foreboding aura, over the next ten minutes, he began to relax, managing to do so by keeping his mind busied with routine. Multi-scanner sweep, check readings, lower unit, eyeball horizon, 360 degree scan—all clear—look in on team. Then mindlessly repeat like a good little soldier. Kaliss would surely be proud.

Although his surveillance remained unchanged, his routine bordering on robotic, his moment of soldierly Zen ended as he realized he hadn’t seen Cass since she disappeared behind a drumlin of wreckage some ten minutes ago. He swept the area with the multi-scanner, got nothing, and his worries resurged—the confusing planet, the mounting devastation, his role in the ongoing fiasco, the prickling pressure of more to come, and now the potential loss of another team member.

Anger and frustration stirred his thoughts to a boil, exothermic emotions pressing at his skull till it ached. He’d never felt so utterly helpless, so universally useless. Sure, he could trigger an alarm, warn the others of approaching danger, but he could do nothing to stop it. Nor could he leave his post and search for Cass.

Helpless. The word throbbed in his mind like an emotional aneurysm.

And underscoring it all was the ever present sense of guilt, not only the self-imposed but that arriving via the spiritual milieu. Like a memory projection, he could hear his wife’s voice in his every thought, hereafter shame from the great beyond. He cursed in his mind, scolding himself. Because he knew there was no way she’d approve of his actions since her untimely departure.

And in that instant he became aware of a sudden understanding. It was likely there all along yet he’d just never made the connection, his perception clouded by the emotional ambiguity of such a peculiar notion. But now as it became clear, he felt it just as sure as he felt his thudding heart. And it explained so plainly, he now realized, why he suddenly became so emotionally unhinged over the wellbeing of a machine.

Cass had become a surrogate for Helen.

All those nights staying up late—talking, laughing, exchanging ideas, while the Bio-bot was set on mirror mode—was him connecting to his memory of Helen. Cass had been filling the void left by his wife, a synthetic replacement, a prosthetic stand-in for his amputated love. It may not have been the most conventional of relationships, and Nathan was certain that a shrink could make a career studying the psychological issues inherent in such an affair, but it had worked for him.

And over time, despite the obvious absurdities, a bond had developed; the enormity of which he only now realized. Cass had keep him from going insane, allowed him to function, offered comfort, especially as the days wore on and the magnitude of his mistake in joining the military clamped down in his psyche. It was no overstatement to say that if it wasn’t for Cass, he wouldn’t be alive today.

And now, like Helen, he failed to protect her. The notion, when it struck, shook him to his foundation. He felt suddenly weak and went down to a knee; lost, livid, distraught.

3 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

3 Responses to another taste from War Torn

  1. Dave Bates

    An interesting premise. I wouldn’t mind reading the entire book, if there is one. FWIW, I love this site and will keep checking in on it.
    Also, I hope I am one of the first two so I can win a paperback copy of “Unnatural Selection.”

  2. Danny

    Indeed an interesting premise. I can appreciate the emotion in the writing. I, like Dave, hope to get a paperback of Unnatural” but I really look forward to War Torn as well.

  3. TP

    Well, that was quick! Dave and Danny, way to go, books will be shipped out tomorrow. Appreciate you taking the time to swing over and have a look.

    Contest is over but will likely be doing another in Dec, as the holidays approach. Thinking of doing a 12 days of Christmas type thing, have a goofy premise to go along with that tradition that some might find entertaining (not to mention a chance to win a free copy of US) Will post alerts here as well as on FB and Twitter should it come to fruition.

    War Torn is novella. It’s in the lab, currently running it through the final paces. The story is earmarked for Cosmosis, which is an anthology (including 3 other stories) that should be out soon. Hard to pin down an exact release date as I am dealing with a chronic health issue that has slowed my productivity greatly.

    But all is good, and I will occasionally post progress reports here (maybe on Goodreads, too) as to Cosmosis and other works in the works.

    Thanks again Goodreads readers (and Gertie)!

    Peace
    -TP

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>