Broken Soldier (Book One) Read online

  Wayne was nine years old, when Mike was wounded. The army offered to fly Sherry to Germany to see her husband. He needed time to gain some strength, mentally and physically, before being flown to Washington D.C., where he would begin his extensive therapy at Walter Reed Army Medical Center.

  His wife had her mother stay at their house with Wayne, while she was flown to Germany to be with Mike. Sherry told their son daddy was hurt and needed time to recover. Little Wayne’s concern was written on his face, as he asked, “Is daddy hurt bad?”

  They didn’t believe in lying to the boy. She broke down in tears and told him, “Yes honey, daddy’s hurt really bad. But he’s going to live and when he finally comes home, he’ll be with us forever. So, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  Wayne began crying, as soon as he saw his mother’s distress. After hugging and kissing her son, he calmed down, and then asked, “Mommy, is dad a hero? Did he do good?”

  “Oh yes, baby. Daddy is definitely a hero and he did very good.”

  Three weeks after Sherry arrived in Germany, the doctor declared Mike well enough to be flown back to the States. Sherry went on to Fort Campbell, Kentucky to be with Wayne. They had talked extensively about the timing for telling their son about the seriousness of Mike’s injuries. She felt it would be best if she explained it to their son, before he made the trip to Washington to see his dad and Mike agreed.

  Wayne didn’t take it well at first. In the past, whenever Mike was home, they had a very active life together, and male horseplay was always a part of it. They tossed baseballs and footballs back and forth, and Mike would chase his son around, as they laughed and enjoyed each other’s company.

  The boy realized those moments were lost. Sherry assured him that there were plenty of other things they could do together. But, she could see the doubt in the lad’s expression.

  By the time Sherry and Wayne came to visit him at the hospital, Mike had begun some modest therapy and his facial scaring had begun to heal nicely. There was still a lot of redness on the left side of his face, and Mike had the doctor explain to his son that it would clear up, with time.

  But, there was no hiding the obvious truth about his legs. It would be some time before his stumps would be healed enough to try out temporary prosthetics. Wayne insisted on seeing the raw stumps for himself.

  He bravely told his father, “I want to see your legs dad. I won’t cry, I promise.”

  So, reluctantly, Mike pulled away the sheet, revealing the remains of his once powerful legs. The ends were bandaged and when they came into view, Wayne was confronted with the reality of his father’s missing limbs.

  In a quivering voice, Wayne said, “Gee whiz, dad, their different lengths. It looks weird.” Then his son, the apple of his eye, began to cry.

  The poor kid apologized, as tears ran down his face. “I’m sorry, dad. I know I promised not to cry, but I can’t help it. I want you to be normal again.”

  All three of them were in tears, as Sherry said, “Sweetie, daddy is normal. He’s still the same man who loves you and he’s going be able to play with you again. He’ll just do it differently.”

  Up to that point, Mike thought he had a handle on his emotions. He had cried alone and with Sherry on several occasions, as he went through recovery. But nothing was as emotionally painful as seeing his son fall apart. He felt as though he had let the boy down. On one level, he knew that wasn’t the case. On another level, he couldn’t avoid feeling guilty about it.

  After four surgeries and many months of physical therapy, Mike was eased out of the Army. He had enough retirement points to collect a decent amount when he got older. But, until then, he and his wife would get by on his disability pay and her salary.

  Sherry had been devastated by the severity of his wounds. For the first few weeks, whenever she came to see him as he progressed from one surgery to the next, she openly wept. She had always been his rock and it seemed so strange to him that, now, he had to be the one to hold her together. It was so unlike her, yet so like him to be aware of his responsibility to the family and to be the rock for her and Wayne. He knew if he showed confidence and strength, they would follow his lead.

  Finally, she told him she felt so sorry for him. That he was always such a powerful manly man and she knew how that image was important to him. And now he was in this horrible condition and it wasn’t going to get any better. He held her in his arms, albeit painfully and without complaint, as she told him how much she loved him. She sobbed for a quite a while, but that was the last time. Once she finally had it out of her system, she reverted back to the rock he had known for most of their life together.

  Where his physical therapy was concerned, she was as bad as any drill instructor he had ever seen. There was no stopping her and she certainly wasn’t about to let him give up, not that he would. She pushed him hard, never allowing him to get away with limited exercise.

  Once they got back home, in Kentucky, she gave him a set of chores to do around the house and if he didn’t do them correctly, she chastised him harshly.

  Two years after the disaster in Iraq, she announced, “It’s time you went back to school and got your degree. You’d been pecking away at it for years and now you have the time to finish it up. So, you’re going to get off of your ass and learn some new skills, Sergeant First Class Hurst.

  Three years later, he had two degrees, one in computer science and one in history. His only reason for getting the history degree was his love of the subject. Mike was fascinated by ancient politics and how it affected the various militaries of the time. But, it was the computer science degree that got him a decent job at a company that gave vets hiring preference.

  While he was never going to be a wiz kid at computer code, he did have other talents that the Vice-President of development had recognized, specifically his leadership ability. Eight months on the job and he received a promotion to supervisor and a nice raise.

  There was some resentment toward him, because other, younger men and women had been there longer. It didn’t bother him at all. As a former drill instructor, he knew what it was like to be hated. These people didn’t really hate him. They were merely jealous of him and wanted his chair for themselves.

  He set about reorganizing the workload. He noticed that his predecessor had people doing what they did best. He believed in that; but it was a short term solution to getting the job done. In the long run, when people left for other jobs or were promoted out of the department, it left a gap in production. So, he had people periodically doing procedures that weren’t their strong suit. There was a lot of gripping about those moves and one guy went over his head to the VP.

  Mike had expected that and had warned the man that when it happened he shouldn’t be surprised about it. Eventually, the entire department would be stronger and more flexible for the cross training and experience these people were receiving.

  It took time, but gradually his subordinates began to appreciate his methods. When a few of them received promotions, it was proof of his successful approach and each time they thanked him for the push.

  When he was promoted again, it came as big surprise. He hadn’t sought advancement and when he told his boss that, the man told him, “Mike, you’re one of the best men I’ve every seen at guiding people to success. We need a man like you at a higher level to help some of the younger, upcoming executives to see how it should be done. Your natural leadership skills are invaluable.”

  Sherry was so proud of him and he felt so happy for her. That promotion was a vindication of her hard work, as well, as he recovered physically and emotionally from his wounds. The love they shared went both ways at all times. So when one of them was happy, it made the other one happy.

  That was the year Wayne entered the US Naval Academy. He wanted to be a marine pilot. Mike teased him about not going to West Point and pursuing a career in the Army. But he wasn’t really upset about it. In his eyes, Wayne could do no wrong.

  He and Sherry were so
proud of him. He was such a good and loving son. During his four years at Annapolis, the boy’s hard study paid off for him. He graduated sixth in his class and went straight into flight training, down in Pensacola, Fla. Like Mike, his son was a natural career military man.

  Eventually, Wayne found a beautiful girl who had stolen his heart, as well as Sherry’s and Mike’s. His late wife often said, “That girl is perfect for Wayne. She accepts being a Marine’s wife and keeps the home fires burning when he’s on deployment.”

  A few years later, his loving wife, Sherry, was diagnosed with cervical cancer. She’d put up one hell of a fight and he was with her every inch of the way. But the damned disease was too far along, when it was discovered. In spite of all the improvements of modern medicine, she lost her fight.

  Wayne came home on leave and they comforted each other as best they could. That was the last time he and Wayne had gone fishing together. The fished, they drank and they cried. Life could be so good, and yet so cruel, at times.

  ***

  As Mike ruminated over his past life, he realized that if the Thorian had come along, while Sherry was sick, they probably could have cured her of cancer. The thought made him angry, even though it wasn’t the alien’s fault. After all these years, he still missed his wife terribly and wanted her back. But, it was not meant to be.

  The time for reminiscing was past and he knew it. He had new legs and a new eye and an alien to deal with. Although it seemed surreal, he knew this no dream or hallucination. It was time to face the bizarre truth of his situation.

  Mike put his hands on his knees and squeezed. It hurt, just a little. Still, it was the first real sensation he had felt there, since he had lost them. He had legs again. Damn.

  He was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, as he began to tear up. That he had fully grown back his legs was incomprehensible, yet true. He was elated and frightened. It occurred to him that the alien could always take away his legs and his left eye, returning him to his former condition. How very cruel that would be.

  When he tried to stand, he found the ache in his legs became worse, as the extreme gravity put far more weight on them than they were used to. He would have fallen, if he hadn’t obtained a good grasp on the metal table. He tried walking around the table, as he used his hands to support some of his weight. But, he just didn’t have the strength, not yet anyway.

  He heard a clink of heavy metal and his head was drawn toward the sound. What had been the video screen wall slowly slid aside, revealing his first glimpse of the Thorian, in the flesh.

  The alien took two steps into the room and spoke, at least Mike thought he did, because he saw the creatures mouth move and heard high pitched squawks. Half a second later, the speakers on Mike’s shoulders announced, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sergeant Hurst.”

  Mike looked up at the tall being and painfully stood as tall as he could, before responding. “With all due respect, I’ll withhold my feelings about you, until I hear what it is you want from me.”

  The pressure on his legs was rapidly causing increased pain, so Mike sat down on the table.

  The alien’s eyes watched him closely, and then they closed for a moment. The gravity that had been so difficult to deal with changed to nearly nothing, causing butterflies in Mike’s stomach.

  “I’ve reduced the gravity for now, Sergeant. If you will follow me, I can offer you a more comfortable seating arrangement, while we talk.”

  It surprised Mike that the Thorian turned his back on Mike. Was that a deliberate sign of trust, or was the creature deliberately tempting him? Mike had no intention of turning his back on any being, human or otherwise. Not without a great deal of operational experience to develop trust.

  He had no idea as to the size of the spacecraft, in which they rode. Although the overhead was greater than one would find on a human ship, it seemed small because the passageway was so narrow. The room he was guided to was his next surprise. It had carpet and soft, sky blue walls. While the soft lighting and color scheme put him at ease, he remained suspicious of the alien. He wasn’t about to be conned by this pleasant environment.

  There were four tall chairs around a tall table. They looked like padded bar stools to him, but at least they had armrests. The alien said, “Please, Sergeant Hurst, sit down and get comfortable. I’ll have water and food brought, if you wish.”

  Mike replied, “You’ve given me the impression you were alone. Are there more of you here?”

  “No, Sergeant Hurst. This craft has a series of machines, which provide the necessary items and services to sustain biologic life forms. Thorians and Saurans are not the only creatures that this small transport can support.”

  As he spoke, a panel in the table opened and a metal jug along with two cups rose to the height of the tabletop. The Thorian poured water into both cups and handed one to Mike. He took it and sipped, finding the water cool and refreshing, just like his first taste had been.

  Mike said, “I see you also drink water. Is that normal for your people?”

  “Yes. You’ll find that many races have a need for water. Of course, there are some who put additives in it to make it acceptable for their taste and biologic needs. I’ve heard there is one race that becomes ill from it.”

  Mike took a long drink, empting his cup. He really was thirsty.

  The alien told him, “The regrowth process, demands a great deal of water. I’m sure you are aware that the human body consists primarily of water. So, please help yourself to as much water as you wish. It will help you to gain strength, as the regrowth process is completed.”

  “I am thirsty.” He poured himself another cup full and asked the Thorian, “Do you have a name. What should I call you?”

  The creature smiled, giving Mike his first glimpse of the alien’s short white teeth. “Our people live much longer than humans. We honor our blood ancestors by carrying a full name that includes all of our parent’s names, going back four generations. But, like humans, we each have an individual name, or as you would call it, a first name. My first name is Jonelle.”

  Mike quickly followed, “And may I call you Jonelle?”

  Again, the alien smiled. “In the brief time I’ve had to research humans and their customs, I noted that most of you have a first name, as my people do. Also I noted that many of you use a shortened version their first name. On that basis, I would be willing to accept the name of Jo, as appropriate. And would you be offended, if I called you Mike? It would make our conversation much simpler.”

  Now it was Mike’s turn to smile, as he answered, “Yes, Jo, that would be fine. Now, may I ask what you want of me?”

  Jo held his hands up high, smiled and said, “I want your help in defeating the Saurans, of course. I can’t do it alone.”

  Mike had been taking a sip of water and it went shooting out of his nose and he began coughing at the alien’s ridiculous statement.

  After clearing his throat, Mike pointed out, “My people are untold thousands of years behind your people, or the Saurans. How in hell am I going to be any help?”

  “Let me explain.”

  “Please do,” Mike shot back.

  “Very well. On the Mother Ship, there are machines that can do amazing things with biological beings, such as you and me. With genetic modification, your brain can be expanded to handle several times the processing power it currently has. It can also make you a good bit stronger, although I haven’t seen the research on that as yet. I just haven’t had the time.

  “That machine can install a biologic communication device, which can exchange data with an electronic device. It will be placed at the base of your skull and other areas of your body will also have small alterations made to make you a better warrior. We would be able to talk, without these confounded speakers and, if we wished, without talking.”

  Mike shook his head. “Do you mean that our brains would communicate directly? Could we read each others thoughts?”

  “Yes and no. Our minds would be ab
le to communicate at phenomenal speeds. There will be circumstances that require rapid decisions to be made and instant communication would be essential. Especially, I suspect, in a combat environment. But one cannot gain access to another’s private thoughts. When this system was designed, that was the inventor’s greatest fear. So she placed a mind block that protects the users. It is the only way any of the races would accept it.”

  “So you’ve had this done to you?”

  Again with the patient smile. “Mike, this system has been in existence for more than a thousand of your years. It is a biological device, which has been genetically implanted. That means our genetic make up has been permanently changed. We pass it on to our children. They are born with it already in place.”

  The ramifications of Jo’s comment were extraordinary. “Jo, if what you’re saying is true, then humans are many thousands of years behind the Saurans or the Thorians. Furthermore, I believe most humans would find the idea of an implant that affects the brain to be repulsive. The idea suggests that you would have a way to control us.”

  The alien extended his hand, with the fingers pointed straight out, and flipped his hand over and back rapidly. “I can understand how you would think so. I wish I knew what to say to help you grasp the benefit of this method of communication. There is so much more to these changes than I have told you. But for now, the most important reason is to be able to comm with me and your warriors, without resorting to this slow archaic speech; although I must admit there is a joy to the leisurely pace of it.”

  Mike sighed in frustration and pushed the conversation in a different direction. “So, how in the hell am I going to make a difference.”

  Jo said, “Allow me to explain my plan. However, I need to provide a little more background, before I reveal it to you.”

  Mike was a little angry. For many years, he had trouble tolerating people who danced around the answers he needed. Sometimes it made his blood boil. In this situation, he chose to exercise patience. He held out his hands, palm up, and said, “Please go on.”