The Ashes of Humanity by David Adams

Author:David Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: David Adams
Published: 2013-07-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER VII

Sweet Misery

*****

Eden

Velsharn system

LIAO BARELY REMEMBERED WAKING UP and showering, her body covered in insect bites, but she found herself back in her office—the exact place she didn’t want to go. Not with her Type 9 stuffed under all those papers.

It would be okay, though. Although she was still miserable, she didn’t have the heart to do it. Not after what had happened. Given the circumstances, Liao considered deleting her report, but it did contain a lot of valuable information. She edited some parts, mostly for curse words and exaggerations, the sense of guilt growing with each edit.

Fortunately, James visited her, interrupting her growing desire to incinerate the whole thing.

“Hey you,” he said, smiling as he pushed open her door. “Get much sleep?”

She hadn’t, the insects had seen to that, but a white lie would save some face. “A bit,” she said, “but not much.”

James’s disappointment was clear, but he at least tried to hide it. “Okay, well, that’s something at least.”

Soon, she promised herself. Soon I can sleep properly.

“Hey,” said James, reaching up and touching her forehead. “What happened to your hair?”

Liao recoiled away from the touch. She concealed the gesture byadjusting her cap. “I... thought it best to cut it.”

“Really?” James smiled. “It doesn't look half bad.”

“Thanks,” she said, trying to change the subject. “Sorry. I was just working.”

“On what?” James craned his neck. “Something for the Tehran?”

Liao didn’t want to let him see it, not like this, but accepted she had no way to hide it now. She didn't want to tell James that she'd written the whole thing in one go, so stretched the truth. “Just a report I’ve been working on. It’s a… frank introspection of our involvement with the interstellar community, along with a catalogue of the decisions that led us to this point. Written as a stream-of-consciousness, honest, brutal assessment of everything that has happened to us so far.”

“I like it,” said James. He reached for the document, but Liao put her hand over it.

“It’s not finished.”

“Well, lemme read it when it’s done.”

“Of course.” Desperate for another change in topic, Liao motioned for James to take a seat. “So, what brings you to my fortress of solitude?”

“Sounds like something Summer would say.” He pulled out one of her chairs and eased himself into it. “Eh. I’m just trying to sort out what’s going to happen now that the Tehran crew has arrived.”

“How do you mean?”

James pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Just the little things, really. Like making sure that everything gets done and done on time, and to the proper standards.”

Liao frowned. “There’s a discipline problem on the Tehran?”

“Yes and no. It’s complicated. You know how hard it is to operate with an Iranian crew? There’s a huge, fundamental difference between Western militaries and Persian militaries. There’s an ingrained cultural divide between the officers and the enlisted that borders on a caste system—they don’t even talk, really. They do things that we would consider totally abhorrent, that would end in a dishonourable discharge in any western service.

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