War Machines

8

      All I wanted to do was go back to work. But my squad seemed determined to drive me insane. I'd more than proven myself on the battlefield, and for the most part, nothing changed there. Matthews asked more frequently than usual if I needed to be treated for injuries, but that I could handle. Our fighting techniques still revolved primarily around me. I admit that I felt a certain amount of guilt the first time I faced the rats after returning from Home. I'd always noticed that the rats, who had long whip tails, big rounded ears, a smattering of short fuzzy grey fur, long snouts, and sharp incisors and claws, did nonetheless still bear a vague resemblance to humans. We'd always thought of them as a sort of rat-human hybrid. It just never occurred to us that this was precisely what they were. The things were hell on buildings. They were resistant to electric shock, and while they weren't nearly as tough as lizards or the damned furballs, they could certainly take a beating. That meant they weren't something I could easily pick off from a distance. And that, in turn, meant I needed to deal with them up close and personal, as I'd always done. For the first time, I saw the lingering intelligence in their eyes. I recognized, in their weird barking, many of the same sounds I'd heard from Zeke when he'd been speaking his native language. While we'd always thought of the creepers as having a language, we usually thought of it as more like wolf howls, assisting in hunts but not actual language. The idea that these creatures were actually speaking gave me pause. Hopefully, it didn't show. I checked the figures later and saw no change other than what I'd expected from me while still healing and a little stiff. On paper, the Exterminators were still at the top of their game.

     Off the battlefield, though, it was a very different story. My squad treated me like I was made out of glass. Without fail, every single one of my teammates pulled me aside, spoke gently to me, and informed me that they were there for me if I needed anything or just needed to talk. I had my choice of every shoulder in the squad, mostly individually, although the Palmer twins came together. Olsen seemed the least weird, but even she did the "I am here if you ever need to talk about what happened" thing. It confused the hell out of me. Matthews was the worst. He stopped asking me to be his wingman when we went out and seemed uncomfortable when women would hit on me. He was even turning down the women who hit on him, something I never thought I'd see. On the rare occasions between missions that we camped out in the field outside of a drop ship, he and I had always shared a tent. But now I found myself banished from his tent and sharing with Miller. Miller snored loud enough to wake the dead. I had to use earplugs in self-defense.

     When I confronted Matthews about it, he'd looked uncomfortable and announced that, of course, we couldn't share a tent anymore. It wouldn't be proper. The last thing either of us needed was any sort of rumor like that going around. I kept after him until he finally admitted the truth. "A male squad leader cannot share a tent with a female teammate," he told me. "The only reason you were ever with me was because you let me believe you were male. Had I known, that never would have happened."

     "The fact is, it did happen, and nothing happened," I retorted. "So why does it make a difference now?"

     Matthews rubbed at the back of his shaved head. "Because shortly after your abduction, I was called up by the brass at the Border Guard, told about your true gender, and grilled about any sexual contact we may have had," he explained.

     I gaped at him. "Tell me you weren't stupid enough to tell them about my drunken confession?" I pleaded.

     "Well, I had to tell them," the idiot responded, still avoiding eye contact. "I wasn't going to lie about it, but now I'm being, and I quote, 'closely monitored.' So I need to avoid even the suggestion of any sort of conduct unbecoming."

     The whole thing was so insulting that I could only sputter. "I'm Terra Omega!" I exclaimed. "What do they think you're going to do, force yourself on me?"