Goliath

Covah stands to greet Rocky, motioning her to an empty setting on his left. “Please, Commander, come and sit down.”

Rocky steps forward, smiles, then kicks outward, the top of her bare foot rushing toward Covah’s groin.

The electrical charge grips her in midstrike, flipping her body out from under her and hard onto the linoleum floor.

“Like a bull in a china shop,” says David, shaking his head.

Rocky rolls onto her knees, her chest heaving in convulsions.

Gunnar kneels beside her. “Not like this—”

“Leave me alone.”

Covah returns to his seat. “As you can see, the collar’s probes detect even the slightest neuromuscular activity, and I shouldn’t need to remind you how fast Sorceress can react.”

Ignoring her protests, Gunnar helps Rocky to her feet, leading her to one of the empty place settings. “Sit down and save your energy.”

She wipes saliva from her chin. “Go screw yourself.”

Two Arabs enter from the kitchen, carrying pizzas on large aluminum trays. The crew digs in as if famished.

Covah breaks off a small piece of dough and sauce, placing it gingerly in his deformed mouth, the mangled flesh around his jaw and right eye contorting as he chews. “Go ahead, Gunnar, help yourself. If I remember correctly, pizza was your favorite.”

Gunnar’s stomach growls a reply. He takes a slice, earning more of Rocky’s wrath.

Covah feeds himself another morsel, then removes a vial from his pocket, fishing out several pills. One at a time, he places the tablets in his mouth and swallows.

Gunnar watches him, saying nothing.

“I can’t … I can’t do this.” Rocky bites down on her quivering lower lip. “You murdered my husband, you murdered the sailors aboard the Ronald Reagan,” She looks at Covah, her hazel eyes swimming. “I swear to God, before this is over—” She stops, wary of Sorceress.

The crew pauses from eating, waiting for Covah’s response.

“You swear to God? What makes you think God is listening? What is he, an absentee God? A God amused by the suffering of His children?” Simon Covah’s mouth twitches in midswallow. He coughs, gags, then reaches out with his good hand, lifting the wine to his lips, dripping some down his rust-colored goatee as he drains the glass. The pale blue lashless eyes never leave the woman’s. “As for murder, isn’t it you who are calling the kettle black?”

“What are you talking about?”

“David tells me it was you who ended the life of Mr. Strejcek.”

“Strejcek killed my husband—”

“And you killed him. Murder is murder, Commander, no matter how we justify the act.”

“That was self-defense. You killed thousands—”

“Using a weapon of mass destruction which you helped design.” Covah swallows another morsel of food. “Interesting how you sit back and judge me—you, a general’s daughter, a sanctimonious warmonger who helped design two of the most lethal killing machines ever to navigate the seven seas.”

“You’re insane.”

Covah nods, wiping his mouth. “There we finally agree. Personally, I’m convinced we’re all insane, not just us, I mean our entire species. At times I believe we are all just animals, hell-bent on self-annihilation. We preach love, yet we caress violence as a forbidden lover, tasting it, smelling it, overindulging our senses in it, until we are forced to push it away after the deed has been done so we can beg our Maker’s forgiveness. The hypocrisy makes me ill.”

Covah looks at Rocky, his gaze growing harsh. “You and I worked together for two years, Commander. During that time, I found you to be an adequate manager, competent and knowledgeable, but, like most of your country’s leaders, a bit too ignorant for my taste.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, you have no concept as to how the rest of the world thinks. When it comes to conflict, you’re convinced that all men want peace, that all battles can be resolved through forced diplomacy. That fallacy, noble as it is, is based on Western values alien to most people. The world is filled with hatred, Commander, hatred rooted in religious beliefs and cultural disparities, compounded over thousands of years of bloody histories. It is not something I condone, mind you, it is simply the way things are. The United States enters the fray, carrying its big stick, and thinks it can exert its will in a foreign land, without ever having a true understanding as to how the bloodshed began, yet you’re still convinced you can end it.”

Covah leans forward, close enough so that Rocky can see her reflection distort in his steel cheek.