Vorpal Blade

EPILOGUE

“Sergeant Bergstresser, by order of the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces of the United States, I hereby award you the Navy Cross for valor above and beyond the call of duty during classified missions of the highest importance…”

Berg kept his eyes on the flag as the secretary of the Navy pinned the cross to the front of his dress blues. A cold front had swept through the Norfolk area, bringing slashing rains followed by cold, clear skies and winds that rippled the stars and stripes like a whip. The secretary had already read off a list of posthumous awards that had taken nearly an hour, one by one handing them out to grieving women who, for now, could not be told how their sons, brothers, spouses had died. All Berg could do was flex his jaw as the list went on and on.

Less than a mile away in a covered dry dock a shattered submarine was being crawled over by technicians. The Blade was damaged but not done. Already the planning was in the works for the next mission. To go where no sub had gone before, into wonders and terrors untold.

Finally, the interminable ceremony was over. The group broke up and Berg wandered towards where he’d parked his Jeep.

“Hey, Two-Gun,” Gants said. “Where to?”

“Leave,” Berg said. “Headed home. How’s Red?”

“They’re fitting a prosthetic today,” Gants said, dropping in to step beside the much taller Marine. “He’s talking about trying to get back on duty.”

“Hell, with as much damage as the sub took, he could be ready for duty before we go back out,” Berg said.

“You’re going?” Gants asked, sucking his teeth.

Berg stopped and looked up at the sky. It was midday so not a star could be seen, not even the “evening star” of Venus. He hadn’t even thought about his response. He had been asked to “volunteer” again and had given an equivocating reply. But looking up at the cold blue skies of Virginia, he had no question in his mind.

“I’m a Marine,” Berg answered. “I go wherever the Corps sends me.”

“Hey, Two-Gun!” Miriam said, walking up and putting her arm through his.

“Hello, Miss Moon,” Berg said, looking down at the slight linguist. She’d changed again, back to the whimsical creature they’d all come to know and love. “How are you doing?”

“Cold,” Miriam said, despite being bundled up in a heavy jacket. “Where you going?”

“On leave,” Berg repeated. “Home, I guess.”

“Right now?” Miriam asked.

“Doesn’t have to be,” Berg said.

“Shiny. You. Me. Dance club. Now.”

“Works,” Berg said, grinning. “See ya, Sub Dude.”

“Take care,” Gants said, walking over to a busty redhead and a couple of kids. “See ya when I see ya.”

“Where is home, by the way?” Miriam asked as they walked off.

“West Virginia. Hey, you were talking about a country and western club, right?”

“Do I look like I was talking about a country and western club… ?”

Too Hot. Always too Hot now. But surely, someday, it would be Cold again. And then it could Be.

“Okay,” Bill said. “Good news.”

He hung up the secure phone and looked over at Miller.

“The shipwrights are done with their survey,” he said as the SEAL, very much against regulations, sipped a beer. “Six months to repair all the damage. On the other hand, we’re going to get various upgrades.”

“Glad to hear that,” Miller said, setting his beer down. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Weaver asked.

“You going?”

“Oh, hell, yeah,” Weaver said. “They’re not sure if I’ll keep the XO slot or not. But, yeah. You?”

“You ever think about fate?” Miller asked rhetorically. “Mimi told me that Tuffy couldn’t explain exactly why I had to be along. Was it my pointing out that there was an anomaly in the room? Was it the couple of times I kept Miriam alive? She figured it out when nobody else did. What? That mission? The next? Mimi won’t say. So do I have to go on, theoretically, saving the universe every time?”

“Do I?” Bill said. “Every day we wake up and we get faced with all these choices. Sometimes they’re clearly big, yeah. But there are always choices. And every day we have to figure out which one is going to save our personal universe. So which one you gonna choose, Big Boy?”

“Face it,” Miller said. “You just want to find out what we run into next.”

“Well, that too,” Bill said, chuckling. “It’s a big old universe and we’ve hardly scratched the surface. Don’t you?”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Miller admitted. “Wouldn’t miss it for the w… universe. But this time, I’m taking some more flowers. And a bigger grapping gun…”