A Soldier in Time 1 of 2 {Adult 3,400]

Time travel used in wartime.

"All right ... you a******s fall out and get plenty of sleep tonight. You go to war tomorrow. Bright and early." Master Sergeant Gonzales dismisses us.

I head for a tent I share with Sergeant Pedro Perez. Perez is a new man, brought in especially for the mission. He seems to know more than he'll say -- which isn't much. Perez is a large rough-looking guy who keeps to himself but seems expert enough. 

It's been a tiring day. Starting at 0500 hrs, we were issued new weapons, sighting them in and practicing until sunup. After breakfast, we fired again and then learned how to dissemble and clean them. 
 
I had been introduced as a kid to these old-fashioned projectile rifles, but hadn't fired them before. At the last minute, some big-brained officer has decided they're necessary for our mission tomorrow. It's one hell of a time for such a decision, forcing us to use unfamiliar weapons on our first really dangerous mission.

I, Corporal Vince Jackson, can't understand why the change. They're heavier and less powerful than our standard laser weapons. That lack of firepower might make a difference in any coming battle … a bad one.

Since we've been training in the dense jungle of Costa Rico, I can only assume we're going to another jungle somewhere around the world. 

We'll also carry several implosion grenades apiece. On detonation, they suck loose objects within twenty-feet into a hole generated in some inner space or dimension. Tests have been made with them sucking in long-range radios and trying to find the radios later. Still, nobody knows where the objects end up. To the testers, they were simply gone. An ugly weapon, indeed.

"Where do you think we're going, Vince?" Corporal Johnny Sampson asks as we enter the bivouac area.

"Haven't the slightest," I answer, "since we're not at war with anyone. Did you vote for Rafael yesterday?" 

Yesterday had been the first election for the New America. New in that it includes the entirety of both American Continents, finally coming under one united government.

The first President had been appointed six years before and this, the first free election, is expected to have a huge almost 100% turnout. All four candidates are running on the same ticket -- peace. With New America by far the largest and most powerful country on the planet, we might just scare the rest of the world into compliance. If that happens, the army should be a nice easy occupation.

Our mission is top secret. Why we were picked, none of us know. The trouble with such a large government is that the right hand never knows what the left is up to. The new capital is in Mexico City and my unit is under the command of a general from the former Nicaragua.

"Sure did. He's promising more space exploration and I want to see outer space before I retire." 

Johnny longs to be a career soldier, while I only stay in because it's all I know except factory work -- and I don't have the courage to get out. At least in the army you are taken care of in an ever-changing world. Changing too damned fast to suit me.

With the dissolution of national borders, civilian life is in a state of flux. Also, the shakeup of police forces -- with some dissolved and others being reorganized -- has brought on a confusion of crime out there in civilian life. Nobody seems to know just what is legal anymore, and what isn't. Not even judges. Maybe things will settle down in a few more years and I can get out? 

"Let's go down to Rosie's, Vince?" Johnny suggests. "We might die tomorrow. This could be our last chance to get laid."

"I dunno. I'd like to sleep tonight. Don't know how much of that we'll get later. Captain Darren Conner will be in charge tomorrow, and I hear he doesn't believe in sleep or smoke breaks." 

Conner is also an unknown quantity. We're told we were handpicked, but weren't told by who or for what. Only that fighting WOULD be involved.

"Hell, screw him. I can sleep in my suit. I put it on 'auto' and doze off. March in my sleep." He laughs. 

I know some of the guys do it but, for myself, I prefer to stay alert. It's my life if the suit malfunctions. I've personally seen men march into walls and even fall over, legs still pumping. But, I have to admit, I'm pretty well caught up on my rest and a quickie is tempting.

"Well, maybe just for a little while? An hour or so, maybe?" 

Foregoing supper -- we can eat downtown -- I continue on to my tent and 'unsuit.' We've been training in our combat suits -- looking somewhat like old-time spacesuits but much less bulky and more flexible. You can, and do, fight in them. They are able, as Johnny mentioned, to march on their own, sensing and avoiding obstacles while homed in on the suit in front of them. I hear it's not really that unusual for dead men to make it back to camp, the suit dragging their torsos above still-marching boots.

The suits themselves contain no built-in weapons and are merely defensive, having radar, communications, a computer screen, and other electronics built right in. They're constructed of space-age armor, air filtered and fitted with servo-mechanisms that augment our natural strength. 

In any case, I change to a informal plastic-cloth uniform and meet Johnny at the main gate.

"What took you so long? And you're the one in a hurry," he chides me as we shove ID cards into slots into revolving gates then start down a short path to a small native town. 

The village of El Guardo was built to service the post and contains, in most part, the type of businesses servicemen require and request.

Those are bars, whorehouses, churches and restaurants. There are also pawn shops, small hotels, and a strong presence of Military Police to keep order. 

In such a frontier town, justice is swift and certain. Much of the patently illegal activity is condoned though actually cheating a GI is verboten. The MPs have little to do except stop fights in the bars. Civilian authorities take care of the rest. Conscious of their precarious state, violence to a customer or outright stealing often results in a native body decaying in some out-of-the-way jungle location.

***

"Hi, Johnny." Girls crowd around us as we enter a clapboard structure known as "Rosie's". Nobody seems to know how it got its name with no Rosie in residence or even remembered -- it simply is.

"Let's rustle up some drinks?" I suggest. We go toward the bar, Johnny shedding girls all the way. He's a popular item with them. 

According to custom, we're left alone while at the bar. Sit at one of the mismatched booths or tables and you're almost trampled by women cadging a drink or horizontal dancing in one of the army cots upstairs.

When the drinks come, we sit making small-talk while looking over the merchandise.

"I see Janice sitting with the other girls. Think I'll start with her. See you back at the base." He finishes his drink and rises.

"What the hell did you drag me down here for," I say, pretending to be angry, "if you're not even going to talk, only get laid?"

"Not just get laid, 'start' getting laid. She's only the first of many," he says, and he's gone. 

Shrugging, I look around and finally choose a girl sitting alone in a corner. I like the quiet types. Life in the army gives you little time for privacy, or quiet. I'd rather sit, holding a girl tightly in my arms, than have long conversations. This one appears to be shorter than most, which is saying something in that country. Except for that, she sports the standard black hair and -- as much as I can see with her breasts almost touching the tabletop -- a slim build.

I go over and, smiling a greeting, sit down next to her in the booth. Instead of throwing her arms around me as is normal, she moves away a foot or so. Hey, maybe a new one? I think. New girls are often more interesting. Not yet bored by endless customers, they show more enthusiasm and willingness to please.

"Hi, I'm Vince. I haven't seen you around here. You new?" 

She nods her head, looking around nervously. We sit quietly, staring at each other until holding my smile seems ridiculous. 

"You want a drink?" I ask. Guess it's up to me to get things started. She won't last long here with that attitude.

"Yes. Thank you ... Vince." She gives a tentative smile, waving at a bartender who has been watching. "How you like this country? I come back from the United States before. That is your country?"

"Okay, I guess, but this is not like the US. How did you like my country?"

"Busy, too busy. Too many people, too. We have new country now, everybody go fast to the United States and Canada for work. Same time, big US and Canada companies hurry here to save money. So come the jobs. Now, if you be South American in US, the whites -- who are also out of work, kill you if they can. A lot of trouble there, so I come back home." 

Uh oh, I think. Now that I have her talking, the last thing I want is a political discussion.

"That's why I stay in the army," I tell her. "It's steady work and I don't have to worry about being fired or laid off. But why a bar, and one like this?" I want to change the subject back to sex.

"The only thing I bring back from United States is two kids. A new factory gonna come here, and I been promised a job. But not now ... after it's built. A long time, and we have to eat." A dainty hand comes over the edge of the table as she takes a drink. I can see her force a swallow. "Ugh, they gived me real whiskey, and I don' drink." She makes a face. Seeing mine, she laughs. "Enough me troubles, my name is Annise."  She sticks out her hand.  We shake, formally.

"These places like to have the girls look happy, Annise. The bartender probably saw you moping around and thought you needed a real drink," I tell her, looking her over. "Maybe you should drink it. Uh ... I have to be back at base before long. You do ... you know ... upstairs too?" 

I can see a normally dark face flush as she gets my meaning. But I have to know. I don't have much time left and do want some sex before going back. 

She nods, gulps the rest of her drink, smiles nervously and stands up. Yes, she is pretty -- and very short. I follow swaying hips on a well-remembered path to the stairs.

***

At the top of the staircase, the girl leads me into the third cubicle on the right. I can't really think of them as rooms. Oh, they obviously started out life as that but each former room is now partitioned off into several small cubicles. Each of them holds an army cot, complete with sheets and a small dresser. There's no window in this one, though there is a large rotating table-fan on the dresser. That and a bare twenty-watt red bulb hanging from the ceiling. Three sides are formed by orange army shelter halves.

Nervous, Annise hugs me, arm around my neck, and gives me a tender kiss on the lips.

"Please, would you turn away?" she asks, brown eyes swinging to the side, avoiding mine.

I don't know what to say, both kissing my lips and modesty being unusual with a w***e. Silently, I release her, and turn around.

I hear rustling behind me, then the squeak of rusty cot-springs.

"Is okay."

I turn, seeing her lying between sheets, smiling up at me with legs spread wide beneath the thin cotton, taking up the entire width of the cot with bare feet extending over both edges.

She looks so lovely in that dull light that I hurry to undress. I gently push one of her legs aside so I can sit down to take my boots off. Then, dropping my clothing onto the floor, I pull the sheet aside. I almost laugh as she playfully holds on to the cloth, feigning modesty.

"Scoot over, woman," I whisper, needing space to lie down.

"You not want on top?"

"Well, yeah. But not right now. You in that big a hurry?" I ask. "You're very pretty, but I have to take a couple of minutes to get ready, you know?" I laugh. "I'm not a bunny rabbit."

"Okay. You get ready, I wait."

"You can help, you know?"

"Uh ... okay."

I turn on my side, reaching around to grab a naked back and pull her against me. Both her hands flatten on my chest, as though she doesn't want to get too close. Nuzzling her neck, I move my lips lower, down near small but perky breasts, feeling her stiffen slightly as my mouth reaches a hardening n****e. I can't help but think of eating an ice cream cone, one that softens as you lick its frozen surface. As I progress downward in an impromptu meal, I feel more and more heat, culminating in a sloppy-warm feast at the furry bottom of the cone.

As I rise up for air, she melts against me. I feel probing fingers on my stomach, as in a spider stalking a fly. As it reaches the forest where its prey lies hidden, the spider hesitates, as though unsure of itself. Tentative digits feel their way carefully to an eagerly waiting fleshy staff. I can feel Annise's heart beat faster -- right before the spider pounces.

After performing the beast with two backs, that hunger assuaged, we lie in bed. The sheet, moistened by heat, sweat, and sex, lies discarded. I enjoy an alternation of tropical heat and cool breeze as the fan rotates on and off our bodies, drying the sweet-tasting sweat of passion.

"You in the US army before?" she finally asks softly, head lying on my arm.

"No. But when the new country formed I didn't know what else to do. Like with you, things changed so much. I've always preferred steady work with other people making the hard decisions. 

"I'd been working in a factory, an assembly line where a whistle was blown for everything, telling me what to do, and when," I tell her, nuzzling her right ear with my tongue. "When the factory moved south, I followed it. Then, while waiting until they were set up and operating, they cut my pay in half, down to local standards -- so I quit."

"But now you're a soldier, huh?"

"Uh, huh. It's as good a job as any, and it certainly is steady."

"You like soldier?"

"Yes. Yes ... I suppose I do. How else can I meet girls like you?" I joke.

"You must go?"

That takes some thought. After all, it's not as though I have to go -- right now. I don't have to be back to base until morning. And I do have the money. And I'm a stupid b*****d. And I might be killed tomorrow. And I'm a stupid b*****d. I know I should get some sleep before that important mission. And I'm a stupid b*****d. And, I did think that before? That I'm a stupid b*****d? Yes. I'm a stupid b*****d.

"Uh, not really. How much to stay here all night?" I ask. "But you must promise to let me get some sleep."

She names a price which, still unsure of my decision, I reach down to my trousers and pay.

Getting out of bed and quickly dressing, in full view this time with shapely brown a*s cheeks shifting up and down, she goes out to tell and pay the floor manager. I saw him when coming up, sitting at a small table at the head of the stairs, reading a magazine by lantern light.

While waiting, I sit up and light a cigarette, finding an ashtray on the dresser.

Glancing back to the now-dampened bottom sheet, I see several large spots -- dark spots. Rubbing my finger across one, I sniff it. Blood?

Blood! She was lying about the two kids. She must have been a virgin? Will wonders never cease?

Annise comes back and, undressing, hops back into the bed. This time she's on top as we again make like a creature with two backs. The difference is that this time she's not nervous -- not in the least.

Although I'm very tired, we lie together after the exercise. Faces within inches and with an occasional kiss, we talk.

"What you do on base? You fight, maybe cook or sit at desk?"

"Oh, I fight. At least I'm supposed to. So far only practice, though. Tomorrow I'll really have to do it. We're going someplace to fight for real."

"Oh. I don't like fight. I hope nobody hurts you? Where you go? Here, in Costa Rico?"

"I don't think so, but somewhere. The officers don't tell us corporals."

"Good. You corepoorel. You tell private ‘go fight’, while you sit back."

"It doesn't work like that," I tell her. "Corporals have to fight. It's the officers that sit back and watch, like our new captain."

"Which captain? I know many captains?"

"Sure, and I'll bet you do." I laugh. No captain is likely to set foot in this cheap bar, is my thought.

"Which?"

"Captain Conner. You know him?"

She lies back, as though thinking.

"I know John Conner, from when I was in US. Is that the one?"

"No. Gotcha," I tell her, laughing. "This one is a Darren."

She takes time to think about it, then rolls against me for another lesson in love. Of course, who is teaching who is a moot point.

"Nope. Don't know," she whispers while unsheathing her spider.

***

Three am, 0300 hrs, comes pretty quickly. Getting back to my bed a little before 0330, I barely have time to lower my head to the pillow before someone, banging on a garbage can lid, wakes me. What the hell ever happened to alarm clocks or bugles? I wonder. 

I jump up, slide into my combat suit, grab the rest of my gear and run to my position in the formation. I’m among the first half-dozen to arrive and stand at ease as men form around me; many busily adjusting straps and closing buckles. 

Finally some action, I think, after all the months of training. I imagine I have a new friend after last night but with those girls you never know. Annise had seemed like a virgin but I can't be certain. She could be a seasoned professional for all I really know about her. That blood could have been from a prior occupant of the room. 

Uh, Oh. I straighten to attention. Here comes Sergeant Gonzales and Captain Conner. I vaguely remember telling the girl about them, but not anything about our mission. Hell, I know little myself.

While the sergeant calls names to make certain we’re all present, the captain files past us, row by row, checking our gear, shaking a strap or checking a rifle at random. Satisfied, he strides to the front and marches us out of the company area to a remote corner of the base. 

---------------
Tomorrow they go to war. Vince finds out that an older war is also progressing, American soldiers fighting on one side, both sides being their enemy. They are tasked to assassinate one specific individual, killing everyone they find on both sides in that other war zone.

End of part one of two. The rest will be posted later.
Charlie - hvysmker