Day of the Damned by David Gunn

brothel. Paying good money to make sure she worked behind the bar and not on her back. Of course, I stole the money from the guests at the party in the first place.
    So it wasn’t that big a deal.
    Only I still haven’t got round to telling Anton or Debro.
    They think I hunted down their daughter out of the goodness of my heart and hid her away. Sometime or other they’re going to start putting facts together and work out what really happened.
    ‘I think you need to tell them,’ Aptitude says.
    ‘No,’ I say. ‘You do.’
    ‘It wasn’t as if I liked Senator Thomassi anyway,’ she says, then flushes at my smile. ‘You know what I mean.’
    She’s right, I do.
    Part of my problem is I’m not cut out for families. I don’t remember my parents. The woman who took me in, and told everyone I was her brother, was slaughtered by Lieutenant Bonafont, the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had.
    See what I mean?
    Never met a family that wasn’t more trouble than it was worth.
    In a moment, Aptitude is going to drop the politeness she’s using to hold herself upright, and ask me the question that made her come to find me. I know what it is. Just as I know the answer she wants is not one I’ll give.
    ‘Dad wondered if you’d come upstairs.’
    Obviously enough, that’s not the question.
    We climb in silence. There are elevators on every floor of the compound. Brass-framed and panelled in dark wood. Never seen anyone use them. At the door of the roof terrace, I stop to let her catch up.
    She’s ready with her question.
    ‘He didn’t mean it, did he? General Luc. When he said that about—’
    ‘Yes,’ I say, ‘he did.’
    She turns away and I grab her wrist.
    That’s how Debro finds us. So I guess she heard me on the stairs. For once, I ignore her. There are things I need to say. ‘Doesn’t mean I’m going to let it happen,’ I tell Aptitude.
    She has tears in her eyes.
    Putting my fist to my heart, I promise to protect Vijay Jaxx from General Luc. This oath will bind me until I d ie. When I look up, Debro’s staring. She’s remembering the vow I made on Paradise to protect her daughter.
    It’s a Legion vow. Not made lightly.
    Life in the Legion was simpler. You protect your own. And everyone wears uniform so you know who they are.
    ‘Catch,’ Anton says. Something arcs through the air and drops into my hand. The bottle is cold enough to have water dribbling down its side. ‘You look like a man who needs a beer.’
    He smiles as I drain the bottle in one go.
    Catching my empty, he tosses me another. This one takes two gulps. Debro and Aptitude look at each other. Beers gone, I notice there’s a fourth person on the terrace. Seeing me, she tries to stand.
    Debro catches her before she hits the tiles.
    A few seconds later, the trooper’s back in her chair and Debro’s glaring as if this is somehow my fault.
    ‘Tell her to stand easy,’ Anton mutters.
    Her name is Leona. She’s a sergeant in the militia.
    What I think is a sticky finish to her outrider jacket is droplets of oil from the smoke drifting over the rift. She came the long way round so as not to be seen. She says her mistake was radioing for permission to enter Debro’s estate. Someone in the local police obviously owns a band scanner.
    She’s wrong, of course. The mistake isn’t hers.
    Aptitude looks guilty.
    ‘Sorry, sir,’ Leona says.
    I tell her it doesn’t matter.
    Fair hair, slightly round face. She’s got that floppy fringe some NCOs wear to look more like officers. And she’s compact, rather than small. With a gaze that falters, before making itself hold mine.
    Green, with splinters of slate. Her eyes are unusual enough to make me look again. And there’s enough bulk to her shoulders to say she works out.
    The sergeant looks like she might be useful in a fight.
    I file that information for later.
    ‘Sir,’ she says. ‘I have a delivery for you.’
    ‘From the general?’
    When talking to anyone from Farlight