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Laura, Rimal, Abebaw, Jacobs and Spitzer stood at parade rest to Caleb's right. Certainly, the whites of their dresses itched, but Caleb knew that wasn't the only thing that was making them shift uncomfortably.
He looked up at the zephyr that fluttered through his hair, at a sky he had forgotten was that blue. At last, he was back on Earth, no longer homesick, but still not at peace. He heard the drums rolling. Caleb saluted at that point. The bugler began playing Exodus. Caleb's legs stiffened, followed by his back, arms, and chest. His hand trembled as he tried to calm it. But it didn't work.
It was time to lower Counter's coffin into the grave. Caleb stood in front of Berkson, Cross, and Batra. Berkson caught his eye as he studied the grave. While holding a crisp salute, the tank appeared especially affected, blinking hard and quivering his lower lip. The tank didn't seem to know how to cry, and Caleb suspected it must have been difficult for Berkson to comprehend the whole ceremony. The tanks never lost loved ones. Then again, they did lose friends.
When Caleb was 10, his grandmother had died, and he was too scared to attend either the wake or the funeral. He and his brothers decided to stay home for a week. Coping with funerals was one thing that would have to be learned in Caleb's new life, as would grieving rituals like funerals.
As he held it, the rustling of nearby palm trees masked his last note. The drummer lifted his sticks from his drum.
Five TB-30 planes rose up from the horizon, then one plane dropped back, creating an upside-down plane: the missing-man formation.
It soon became clear that it was over. With a final clear, Caleb desisted from holding his salute, people collected their belongings, and family members thanked those who attended for attending.
Caleb really felt the need to visit Counter's mom and dad, to speak to them, to inform them their kid had not passed away in vain. He'd read the official report, an objective, collected account of what had happened on Mars, a report devoid of Counter's bravery and humor. It made Counter seem like he'd been a piece of machinery that had just happened to be in the way. ".....and Gieger, Michael F. was KIA by enemy sniper fire as he stood near the craft....." The IDF sure had a way with words, didn't they?
Caleb took a step towards Counter's folks, then, seeing how distraught his mother was, he hesitated.
A hand slid onto his shoulder, Laura's hand. She looked at Counter's parents. "When nobody knows what to say, they just say, 'it happens' or 'it was fate' or 'it was his time to die.'"
"Or 'I'm sorry,'" Caleb added, "which doesn't mean shit. Everyone comes up with pretty words. The guy's dead, wiped off the planet forever. There's nothing pretty about that."
Cross approached. "Some of us are going for lunch, then over to Asteroids. You guys want to...."
"Not me." He glanced sidelong to Laura. "You go."
She took his arm. "Nobody should be alone now."
"I've got something I've got to do," he told her.
"Let him alone," Cross said, taking Laura's arm and pulling her away from him. "Let's go."
Caleb watched them walk away, then, with his head bowed, dragged himself away from the graveyard.
With nothing in particular to do, but wanted to do it alone, he crossed the street, opting to hike the kilometer back to the base instead of riding in the jeep.
He sensed the approach of someone from behind, then a shadow rose next to him. With severe shock he glimpsed a sweaty Sergeant Steinberger. "Talk to me, Waxman. Look me in the eye when you do so!"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"I read your version of the mission report. Why does it lack your single-handed and single-minded charge after the alien?"
"Sir, this is on the record, sir?"
"That's right, soldier."
"Sir, I was instructed to write a summary, sir. Which I did. That detail..."
"Was included in every other recruit's report. Lying will not get you far in the Defense Force."
Caleb picked up his pace, challenging Steinberger to do the same. The older man's collar was already dark and soaked. "Sir, I did not lie, sir!"
"You just held back the truth, that it? You know what I think of that thumb-sucker shit? I think it stinks. You are hereby ordered to tell me exactly what happened."
"Sir, you already know what happened," Caleb said, fingering sweat from his temples and sideburns."
"I want to hear it from you."
"All right. I went after the thing. I did it on my own. I didn't think there was time to wait for the others."
"That's bullshit."
Caleb stopped. "Sir, you wanted to hear what happened and I'm telling you, sir."
"All right, I'm gonna tell you what happened."
He shrugged. "But you said you didn't know...."
Steinberger did his in-your-face routine, which was not as scary as the first time he'd done it to Caleb, but it was immediately effective in raising Caleb's pulse. The sergeant's eyes were so close that the universe was reduced to a starless, coal-black night. "I'll tell you what happened. You reached down inside yourself and pulled out Satan. You went after that alien with what is popularly known as an unbridled bloodlust. That, sir, when in control, is the essence of a soldier's courage. But you had no control. You let Satan beat you. You're standing here 'cause you got lucky!"
The sergeant stood there breathing in Caleb's face. Caleb didn't know if he should look away, say something, resume his walk, or do nothing.
Steinberger stepped back and ran a finger between his neck and collar, wincing over the shirt's too-small neck. "When they ask you about Satan, what are you gonna tell 'em?"
"Sir?"
"The shrinks, boy! They won't put you in AFT if they suspect you got a loose marble!"243Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ55uaD1JpKQ
"Sir, what do you want me to tell them, sir?"
"I want you to lie."
"Sir? You said lying wouldn't get me far in the Defense Force."
"Yes, I did. But in this case, it'll get you into Accelerated Flight Training. See, Waxman, in this case, the end justifies the means."
"Sir, I don't understand, sir."
"No need for you to. Be assured of this: they will ask you what happened on Mars. They will ask you about being bounced from the Tammuz Mission. They will ask you about Miss Zara Stock."
Caleb's eyes widened.
"Uh-huh. So, get your personal Satan under control. You only unleash him in combat. Not before. Understand?"
He gave a solemn nod. "But sir, I won't lie. I wanted that thing dead. I wasn't thinking about working together. I just wanted it. So, I went. If the shrinks can't understand that, if they can't understand that a brother soldier---a friend---was gutted in front of me and I wanted to see a little justice done, then maybe I shouldn't be flying. Because you're right. It's Satan that gives you the balls to go out there alone. I guess somehow, I gotta get control of him." He puffed his cheeks and blew out air. "When is this psych evaluation supposed to happen?"
"It just did."
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