CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Liberty, Marine OTC, Arsenault
They were well into their third month at OTC before either Jak Daly or Manny Ubrik seriously considered taking some liberty in Oceanside. The training schedule for that week left seventh day free for most of the candidates—those not in remedial training or on some duty roster, neither of which applied to either Daly or Ubrik. So, pockets stuffed with recent withdrawals from the Navy Credit Union, at first light they waited for the liberty bus to Oceanside.
It was summer in that part of Arsenault, so the small crowd of candidates waiting for the bus outside the main gate to the OTC campus were dressed informally in ill-fitting clothing hastily purchased the day before from the Marine Corps Exchange store, loose shirts over shorts, feet stuffed into sandals or light shoes.
“These goddamn sandals are too big,” Ubrik groused, loud enough for a buxom candidate standing nearby to hear.
“Well, look at this blouse,” the woman complained. “I pulled it off the rack because I like the flower design, but see how it hangs on me like a general-purpose tent?”
She was from another battalion. The few female candidates left in the brigade by then were easily recognized by everyone, healthy men in their prime who’d had no female companionship for over two months. But this woman was extraordinary even in her loose-fitting blouse. “Ah, well,” Daly said, “I think, er, you’d look pretty good even in a GP tent.” Realizing that statement could be taken several different ways, most of them not complimentary, Daly’s face reddened with embarrassment. “Er, I mean—”
“I know what you mean, Candidate.” She grinned, holding out her hand. “My name is Felicia Longpine.”
“I’m Jak Daly. This is my roomie, Manny Ubrik. Manny’s from Solden, in the army, but he’s an honorary Marine, one hundred percent!”
Ubrik bowed graciously and they shook hands all around. “I’m in the army too,” Felicia announced, cocking her head, grinning widely, giving Daly a silent challenge. Felicia was about Daly’s height, blond, muscular, and the loose-fitting blouse could not hide the well-developed endowments that inexorably drew men’s eyes to her chest.
“Well, ah, you two were good enough to get into Marine OTC, so that means, I mean, shit, I’m surrounded!” They all laughed at Daly’s feigned embarrassment. “That means,” he continued, “that I guess I’ll have to take you two”—he almost said “cunts”—“guys to breakfast!”
Oceanside was about five kilometers from the OTC campus. On the short ride into town the trio studied various brochures highlighting the recreational and dining facilities available in the resort town.
“The Four Seasons looks pretty good for breakfast,” Felicia remarked. “It’s on page three of the dining brochure.” The other two turned to page three.
“Jeez,” Daly exclaimed, “looks pretty classy. But what the heck, a roadside soup stand would be classy compared to anything back in Havelock.”
Ubrik shrugged. “Let’s go.”
The Four Seasons restaurant was “classy.” At that early hour the place was not crowded. The maître d’ greeted them warmly and guided them to a sumptuously set table. “God,” Felicia murmured as they were seated, “this stuff looks so fancy I think I’d be committing a sin just to touch any of the silverware.”
“What’s that music?” Daly asked. Muted classical music was playing in the background.
“Vivaldi,” Ubrik responded at once, “Juditha Triumphans, I think.” Then, a look of embarrassment crossed his face as he noticed the expressions of almost shock on the faces of his companions. “Ah, that’s the opening sinfonia. It’s, um, I recognize the hunting horns, er, very distinctive opening sequence,” he finished rapidly, and went back to studying the menu.
“You like that stuff?” Felicia asked.
“Um, well, it’s based on the story of Judith, who cut off this general’s head to save her people from his army.”
Daly pretended to shudder. “She reminds me of Bella.”
“Who’s Bella?” Felicia asked, feigning suspicion.
“I’ll tell you later, maybe.”
Felicia narrowed her eyes at Daly, as if feigning jealousy, then turned back to Ubrik. “Well, jeez, you can’t dance to that music.”
Face turning red, Ubrik nodded. “Well, no,” he went on rapidly, “but I like all kinds of music, you know?”
“Yeah, it does have a sort of very ‘military’ air about it, catchy,” Daly interjected. He found himself a little confused at the coarseness of Felicia’s language and Ubrik’s evident embarrassment. “Old Manny, here, Felicia, he’s a fucking—er, excuse me—I mean he’s a regular genius,” he went on quickly, covering his embarrassment with a weak grin. “He got all of old Mitzikawa’s formulas down pat, first time through.”
“You did?” Felicia asked, genuinely impressed. “That log support class of his was the worst crap I ever had to suffer through. I only got 70 on that exam where we had to figure out the time gaps between ‘serial’ formulas for a road march. Had to get some fucking coaching to pass that block of instruction.”
Daly laughed. “Well, I only made a barely passing grade on that exam myself, and that was because Mannie here coached me through.” He patted Ubrik’s shoulder.
“I’ve always been good at mathematical stuff,” Ubrik said, shrugging.
“Well, good for you!” Felicia exclaimed. “I admire anybody who can do things better than I can. Oh, Manny,” she went on, leaning forward and placing a hand on his forearm, “I didn’t mean to sound judgmental over your taste in music. You know what they say, ‘Never judge a man by the music he likes, his dog, or his landcar.’”
Ubrik laughed. “That’s a good philosophy of life.”
A waitress came and took their orders. “Jak, where’s this ‘Havelock’ place you mentioned?” Felicia asked.
“Oh, that’s the liberty town just outside Camp Howard—that’s part of Marine Corps Base Camp Basilone, on Halfway, my home station. Fourth Force Recon Company,” he added.
“Force Recon?” Felicia nodded appreciatively. “Confederation Armed Forces Organization” was a class they’d all had, and Felicia knew just how Force Reconnaissance fit into the Marine Corps’ mission.
“Yeah. Princeton Street in Havelock, Felicia, that’s where we go on liberty to eat and drink.” Daly looked around at the luxurious dining room that was slowly beginning to fill up. “Nothing like this place, though.”
“I was reading in this brochure that UCR is famous just about everywhere for its food, hotel management, and recreational services. They run those theme parks on Havanagas now, you know, where you can live back in the Roman Empire and all that stuff. All their places got five-star ratings in Honiger’s Guide to Dining and Dancing in the Galaxy.”
The waitress returned with a cart heaped with their breakfast order, and they fell to consuming it with gusto. “Boy, this is first-class chow, compared to the slop we get back at OTC, right?” Felicia asked around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. She snatched a strip of bacon from a tray and dropped it into her mouth like a baby bird receiving a worm from its mother.
Daly and Ubrik exchanged glances. “Ah, Felicia, just what is it you do, back in the army?” Ubrik asked.
“Me? Oh, I’m in fucking graves registration. That’s a quartermaster MOS. I’ll be a second john, er ‘johnette,’ if you prefer, in the QM Corps when I graduate. Remember that girl, I think she was in your battalion, Jak, the one who drowned during zero month? I’ve pulled many a body out of the water in my time, and let me tell you, they ain’t pretty. Boys, you ever see a corpse that’s been in the drink as long as that girl was, you’ll flip your cookies from breakfast to midnight snacks. Anybody want that last sausage patty?” She speared it with her fork, plopped it on her plate, then cut it into four neat pieces, which she began popping into her mouth.
By the time both men shook their heads no they didn’t want the sausage, it was already gone. “Hey”—she looked up at the pair—“I’m a woman. I can deal with stiffs, dead or alive.” She laughed around a mouthful of sausage, pleased at her pun, and winked suggestively at Ubrik. His face reddened perceptibly.
“How’d you get sent to Marine OTC?” Daly asked Felicia. “Manny here, he was too smart for army OCS.”
“They sent me here because I was too tough for army OCS,” Felicia answered around a piece of sausage patty. “The army figured Marine OTC would take some of the rough edges off me.”
“Has it?” Daly asked. “Doesn’t look like it to me.”
“Oh, sure! I used to piss standing up, now I have to do it sitting down.”
Ubrik stiffened. “Oh, Christ,” he whispered, and nodded toward the door.
Daly turned and looked in that direction. “Oh, boy, oh, boy,” he whispered.
“What?” Felicia asked, looking questioningly at each man in turn. “What? You seen a ghost? I’ve seen them. I can handle them.”
“No, worse than anything supernatural, Felicia, it’s old Rumple Stiltskein, our PT officer.” Daly groaned. “He’s coming right over here!” he hissed.
“Are we supposed to come to attention when he gets here?” Felicia asked. When in the presence of OTC cadre, candidates were obligated to assume the position of attention, something that now came automatically to them, on campus, that is.
“No, no, we’re off duty. Oh, boy, here he comes.”
Lieutenant Stiltskein took a chair and sat down at their table. “May I join you?” he said cheerily. “Ah, looks like you gentlemen have enjoyed a hearty breakfast. Maybe tomorrow, to work it off, we’ll run twenty klicks instead of the usual ten. I don’t know this lady, do I?”
“No, sir, she’s in another battalion.”
“Well, I’ve seen you Miss…?”
“Longpine, sir.”
“Miss Longpine. Yes, I’ve seen you. Your PT officer is Lieutenant Wakefield, right?”
“Yessir.”
“Um. Well, when you get your commission, Candidate Longpine, you stop by and see me. You’d make a good PT instructor. Maybe we can get you on loan from your gaining command.”
“I don’t think the army would let me go, sir.”
“Army, huh? Well, nobody’s perfect, Candidate Longpine. No reflection on you. Gentlemen,” he addressed Daly and Ubrik, “you I know, very well, very well, I know you very well indeed. May I have a cup of your coffee?” he poured himself coffee from the carafe. “Have you people been keeping up with the news lately?” He looked at them over the rim of his cup.
“Ah, we haven’t had much time for that, sir,” Daly answered.
“Well, this just in: we’re in a pretty desperate pickle in our war with the Coalition. And here we are, stuck in beautiful downtown Oceanside with all the feather merchants and their offspring. This session has, what, seven months left to graduation? The war’ll be over by then, one way or the other. Guess none of us will meet the enemy on the Plains of Philippi, huh? Well, thanks for the coffee. Daly, Ubrik, see you tomorrow at oh-dark-thirty. Candidate Longpine, pleasure to meet you.” He stood up to go. “Oh”—he put his credit card into the Billpayer device—“your hospitality is appreciated. Breakfast is on me.”
“So what’s wrong with him?” Felicia asked after Stiltskein had departed. “I sort of like the guy.”
Daly only shrugged. “He beats your legs down into stumps,” Ubrik volunteered. “But, damn, maybe there’s actually a human being in there somewhere?”
“Where in the hell is this ‘Plains of Whatever’ he was talking about?” Felicia asked.
“Oh, that’s a reference to Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar,” Manny said. “Philippi was where Brutus was defeated by Mark Antony. Well, I mean it really happened, the Battle of Philippi. I never figured him for knowing the classics.”
“We never figured you for knowing them! We got a real scholar among us, Jak.” Felicia laughed and gave Daly a big wink.
They rented beach clothes and equipment and spent the day on the sparkling strand for which Oceanside was justly famous. That evening they had dinner in a restaurant that featured a dance band. “Come on, Manny,” Felicia urged after dinner, “let’s us hoof around the floor a little bit.”
“Ah, I—”
“Whatsamatter, Manny, you got two left feet or something?”
“Well, it just is, I don’t dance very well, Felicia. I’d step all over you and embarrass the both of us. Now Jak there, he’s a ballroom dancer.” He nodded desperately at Daly, hoping he’d take the bait.
“The hell I am!” But Daly was a little disappointed Felicia hadn’t asked him first.
“I don’t want to dance with Jak”—Felicia pretended to pout—“even if he is a devilishly handsome and virile Marine. I want to dance with you. I want to dance with a guy who’s got some brains. Come on, Candidate Ubrik. We’ll do the Mess, it’s got real simple steps to it.”
“The Mess? Never heard of it,” Daly said.
“Yeah? You just stand in the middle of the floor and nothing moves but your bowels!” Felicia’s laughter, fueled by several strong alcoholic after-dinner drinks, caused heads on the dance floor to turn in her direction. She covered her mouth in embarrassment. “Okay, Manny, sit here if you want to.” She stood and grabbed Daly’s hand. “Candidate Daly, show me your stuff.”
Felicia proved to be a good dancer, so good she wound up leading Daly across the floor, which he didn’t mind one bit. Her strong, hard, athletic young body pressed closely against his felt good. It’d been a long time. “Felicia,” he whispered, “let’s hit the beach afterward, watch the waves in the moonlight.”
“You bet, Marine,” she whispered back, “if you can rise to the occasion.” They both laughed. “But what about Manny?” She nodded in the direction of their table.
Daly glanced back at the table. Ubrik was conversing with a pretty young woman. Daly smiled. “Manny’s going to be out for the duration.” They moved gracefully across the floor for a while, comfortable in each other’s arms, then Daly chuckled and said, “Felicia, you remind me a little of someone back at Camp Howard,” and he told her about Bella Dwan.
“‘Queen of Killers,’ eh?” Felicia murmured. “Sounds like the kind of woman I would like to meet. Does she also shit standing up?”
Daly couldn’t help laughing. “Felicia, you don’t have any soft edges at all, do you?”
“Yes, Candidate Daly, I do, but only the privileged few ever get to see them. But, Jak, remember this about your Bella. When she dies, she’ll rot, just like anybody else.”
Universal Catering and Recreation Inc. did not permit gambling, prostitution, or any activity at its resorts that wasn’t appropriate for the entire family, but it also did not interfere with what people wanted to do in private. The pretty young woman Daly had seen talking to Ubrik introduced herself when they got back to the table as Julia, an off-duty waitress at one of Oceanside’s exclusive nightclubs. She frankly admitted to being single and currently unattached. “I saw Manny sitting alone and thought he might like me to join him. I didn’t know you were all together,” she apologized.
“Hell, Julia,” Felicia said, plopping herself down in her chair and mock-wiping perspiration from her forehead, “I’m madly in love with my Marine here so you came at just the right time for Manny. Now we’ve got some balance to the evening.” She grinned over at Daly. “Hey, Julia,” she said as an idea suddenly came to her, “doesn’t this place have a seamy side to it? I mean, Arsenault, military personnel all over the place, doesn’t Oceanside have a ‘strip’—you know, clip joints, all that?”
“You’re on it now.” Julia laughed, gesturing with her head at the sedate surroundings. “This is about as ‘seamy’ as it gets in Oceanside. But people still get it on, just not where everyone can see them.” she smiled at Ubrik.
“Well,” Ubrik said brightly, “shouldn’t we be catching the bus back to OTC?”
“It’s only twenty hours, Manny! Keep your socks on!” Felicia said. “I want to snuggle a bit with Jak here; besides, the last bus is at zero-one hours, and if we miss that one, they’ve got twenty-four-hour taxi service. We can sit here until first light if we want to and still be in time for roll call tomorrow.”
“Yeah, if you stay sober,” Ubrik muttered.
“Hey! Fuck you, GI!” Felicia said, loud enough so people at the nearby tables winced.
Oh, shit! Daly thought. There goes the evening. “Well, I think what Manny means, Felicia, is that our dear old Rumple Stiltskein gets up early in the mornings.” Daly turned to Julia. “When we come in next time, how can we get in touch with you?”
She did not answer at once but stared coldly at Ubrik for a moment. “You can’t, thank you very much,” she answered, voice glacial. Throwing Felicia a killing look, she got up and stalked off.
The bus ride back to OTC was endured in stony silence.
“Muhammad’s tits!” Daly raged when he and Ubrik were finally back in their room. “Why the hell did you have to piss Felicia off like that? She was ready to spend the night on the freaking beach with me. Damn! And that Julia? She was for you, Manny, any fool could’ve seen that. Damn! Damn! Damn!”
“I’m sorry, Jak, I-I’m really sorry,” Ubrik stuttered. “I don’t know what came over me! I just blurted that out! Besides, Felicia, she’s such a-a—I don’t know, rough. I guess—I guess if anybody had her job, they’d get rough around the edges too.”
“Well, she is that,” Daly admitted, calming down a bit. “But, Manny, you’re a disaster with women. What are you, a misogynist or something like that? You don’t like them? We could have had a foursome on the beach until you had to go and screw it all up.”
“Jak…okay, I’ll tell you.” Ubrik looked up at Daly, eyes pleading. “Back home on Solden I’ve got someone, and I believe a promise is a promise, and when you promise yourself to someone you love, you’ve got to keep your word. A man who breaks his word to a loved one is—is not a gentleman.”
Daly almost laughed. He shook his head. “Manny, you are a frigging piece of work, a literal throwback to Victorian times! But by golly, okay, buddy, I understand.” He extended his hand and they shook. “I apologize, Manny. That girl of yours back on Solden is one lucky lady to have a guy like you. But I tell you what, old buddy mine, next time I get that Felicia Looonggggg-pine”—he drew out her name—“to go out on liberty with me, I’m going to give her some ‘long pine,’ you betcha!” He smashed a fist into his wardrobe door.
Ubrik laughed. “Go to it, buddy mine! But I guess I’ll just stay back here in the old room and read my Shakespeare.”