Read Online The Unincorporated Woman by Dani Kollin, Eytan Kollin - Free Book Online Page B

a paper directive who couldn’t prove that what they were asking for was somehow essential to the very lifeblood of the Alliance itself. Paper documents fell off pretty quickly after that. Though J.D. suspected it had as much to do with Nitelowsen screening the reports as it did with the bureaucrats showing restraint. J.D. was about to rib her number two for having let the current pile through when she saw that Marilynn, still standing at attention, was doing her utmost to retain her composure. The normally unflappable captain had clearly been affected by the recent turn of events. J.D. sighed and invited Marilynn to sit down. Then she remembered that Justin kept a small bar behind the large Alliance flag draping one of the walls. She got up from behind the desk, went to the flag, and drew it back.
    “Yes!” J.D. exclaimed, seeing her pleasure translated on Marilynn’s face. She reached behind the bar, grabbed the first bottle she touched, and then glancing at the label, gave it a respectful nod. “It’s real, Marilynn,” she said, returning to the desk with the bottle and two glasses.
    “Wouldn’t expect any less, boss. Justin wouldn’t drink synthetic.”
    “No,” laughed J.D. as she settled into her chair, “I don’t suppose he would.”
    She uncorked the bottle and poured Marilynn a tall glass. Because J.D.’s religion prohibited any alcohol, she left hers empty—there more for symbolic camaraderie than anything else. Marilynn reached across the desk, grabbed the full glass, and knocked it back in one gulp.
    Her eyes bulged. “Holy crap!” she blurted through gasps of air.
    A faint smile appeared on J.D.’s face. “Too strong?”
    “Let’s just say if they could sell smoke as a liquid, I’m pretty sure that would be it.”
    J.D. suppressed a laugh. “Cut it out, Marilynn,” she said, pouring another glass. “I’m supposed to be making you feel better. Remember?”
    “Trust me, sir,” squeaked Marilynn, raising her glass to toast her boss’s observation, “you are.” The second shot went down smoother. Then her voice broke. “I … I’m going to miss them, Admiral.”
    “Me too, Marilynn.”
    “They died bravely, boss.”
    “That, they did. I just wish I could’ve done more to help.”
    “Admiral,” offered Marilynn, “contrary to popular belief, you don’t actually have superpowers.”
    “No?” returned J.D. in mock surprise. “Haven’t you heard, Marilynn? I’m the Blessed One. Able to make the enemy do what I want just by talking to them.”
    Marilynn put her hand to her mouth, giggling.
    “And don’t you know”—J.D. was clearly enjoying the self-deprecation—“I have a soooooper seeeeecret DijAssist in my cabin that enables me to read the minds of my enemies.”
    “And don’t forget,” added Marilynn, “raise the dead.”
    “Oh yeah. Totally forgot about that. If only I’d used the damned thing on Justin, I could be out there kicking ass instead of stuck in here having to kiss it.”
    An awkward silence hung over the pair.
    “Stories, sir,” offered Marilynn, “passing fancies to amuse bored miners.”
    “Or replace faith,” added J.D. in all seriousness.
    “Whatever works, sir.”
    J.D. nodded. “If only they weren’t … stories. It would make winning the war a whole lot easier.” She then shot Marilynn a purposeful look. “Feeling any better?”
    “Little, sir. Guess it’ll take some time.” She straightened up in the chair and grabbed an inhaler from an inside pocket. Then, bringing it up to her mouth, activated a button. She absorbed the burst and seconds later was stone-cold sober. The nanite formula affectionately referred to as HOD, for “hair of the dog,” was standard military issue. The clear message being, you can play hard, as long as you’re ready to fight hard—instantly.
    “And thank you, sir.” Marilynn slipped the canister back into her pocket.
    J.D. gave an authoritative nod. “So what have we here?” she asked,