“Based on new intelligence, they think so. But it’s far,
Taz, farther than any of us expected.”
She digested that. “How long?”
“A few years for a return trip, at least.” He didn’t
mention the distinct possibility that it might not be a return
trip.
He watched her slump, and remembered why he pushed
people away, kept them at arm’s length. It was so he didn’t
have to do this part. He sat next to her against the sweaty
gym wall.
“Why does it have to be you?”
He wasn’t expecting that question. He’d never asked it
himself. “Well - I have recon experience. And they like to
keep the family men close to home. Soldiers like me – well,
I haven’t got a wife, or kids, or family to speak of. There
aren’t too many people here to miss me.”
“I will,” she said, but just barely. They didn’t speak for a
long time.
The night before Up was due to leave, Taz knocked on
his door. It was past lights out.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, but he stood
back to let her in anyway.
It was the first time she’d been to his bunk. The single
room was sparse by most standards but downright luxurious
compared to the bunk of questionable odours she shared
with her eleven classmates. Up’s bed was fully made and a
duffel bag containing all his worldly possessions was
propped at the end of it. The vidscreen was on, and paused
on Jackie Chan’s face.
Up sat back down on the bed and patted the spot beside
him. “Karate Kid?”
“Always,” she said.
They finished the movie, and then she read him some of