Antumbra - A Lost Cause

A Show of Force - Chapter Fifty Six

The trip home was taking longer than they thought. Of course, that could just be the hangover talking, but Arva definitely felt like they had slowed down, and if she could bear to pull her head out from under the blanket, she would have asked what was taking so long. However that would mean unbundling herself from the wadded up blankets that formed her cocoon, and instead she just hoped that the world would stop shouting at her, or that she would just die, whichever came first.

"Rise and shine, Violet," Boomer practically bellowed as he entered the cabin, causing Arva to groan and writhe from the pain in her head. This seemed to only give Boomer pleasure, and he chuckled, "not a morning person, I take it?"

"I want to barf," she muttered.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Boomer shrugged, giving her indistinct wad of fabric a nudge with his knee, "now up and at 'em. Hangovers don't go away by themselves."

"After what you did to me," Arva poked her mouth out from the blankets enough to be audible, "how can I ever trust you?"

"Because, and I know this may be hard to believe," he ran his hands up and down his body to punctuate his story, "I'm not quite the young buck I was, but I still remember my first hangover."

"Boomer please," Arva whined, "just get it over with."

"Black coffee for madame," he said, placing a steaming cup on the table next to her seat, "herbal tea for me."

"Herbal tea?" Arva stuck her head out, squinting through the blinding light in disbelief.

"Keeps me regular," Boomer sipped from a small floral cup, "now drink up. It's old-fashioned, but it works." Arva didn't argue, and snaked an arm out of her protective shell and inched the cup closer. She took a sip, and her face scrunched as she nearly recoiled. She had never drank coffee before, only knowing it was a grown-up drink and little else. Why anyone would drink this was beyond her, but it wasn't as bad as the booze, and it certainly woke her up.

"We have a lot in common, you and I," Boomer found amusement in her mild suffering, "we're both ace pilots, we're both immune to bed-head, and we're both going to be wearing shades for the rest of the day." He produced a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, and Arva took them, slipping them on to help combat the harshness of the light. It helped. A bit.

"Why are we taking so long?" Arva asked, chipping away at her coffee.

"Ice, ice, baby," he sang, "usually boats this big break through easily, but I guess even this tin can has its limits. Kyodai was actually thinking of using the suits to crush up a path. It's certainly thick enough for them to stand on."

"I hope we get home soon," Arva sighed, pulling herself out of her blanket until it was just over her lap, "this isn't the kind of war I thought I'd be fighting."

"And what kind of war was that?" Boomer sipped his tea, pinky curled just under the handle.

"One where I protect people," Arva took another bitter sip, "not kill people."

"That's not war, though," Boomer said, "that's way better, but it's not war."

"You said you had family back home?" She asked. Boomer gave a nod as he took another sip.

"That I do," he said, "big one, and we keep in touch. Mom and dad retired a few years ago, and I've got a brother and two sisters in the business. Also have my grandmother, lives with my folks, and another brother and sister in school."

"Wow," Arva said, "that is pretty big." She could only imagine the congestion of living with that many people. Arva often bemoaned her lack of privacy living with Hannah, and the two would squabble often.