Jack of Harts

This year I am thankful for my family and my friends. I am thankful that you buy my stories. I am thankful for my job at a hotel where we cater to Mayo Clinic patients. Through all of this crazy we are all witnessing, I have gone to work as normal. I have seen family and friends as normal. Those of you who know me, know that I am a clean freak already, and have always maintained a strong personal space bubble of my own.

So my life has changed little, other than being thankful that other people finally have a reason to give me the same personal space I give them.

Well, wearing masks did change me a lot. I found I could not breathe while wearing them. I have a friend with asthma, and I could not keep up with him. He said I needed to get that checked out, so I did. Turns out I have had undiagnosed mild asthma my entire life. So now I’m on a maintenance inhaler, twice a day, and I can breathe better than normal. Numerous little issues I didn’t know where related to that have gone away, and I’m operating better than ever. So, I’m actually thankful to find out that I have asthma.

And finally, I’m thankful that I was born in and live in America. I would not have the opportunities I have now if it were not for that. I would not be selling stories as I am, I would not have a comfortable job as I do, and I would not have access to the various treatments that keep me functioning better than I would.

So I am thankful. And I hope you are too.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving.

“I’ve got your back, John,” Cassie said.

His displays flashed with recommendations and target locks.

“Never doubted it for a second,” Christensen said and sprang back to his feet. He lined the rifle in his right hand up on one enemy quad, waited a moment for the display to flash a target lock, and pulled the trigger. The secondary barrel glowed with electromagnetic energy for an instant before spitting out a single high explosive round that shot across the Martian landscape faster than the speed of sound. The kinetic energy alone was enough to breach the armor of anything but the heaviest enemy tanks. He would have needed a proper armor-piercing warhead to take one of them out, but the unarmored quad and its rider were an entirely different matter. It was akin to beating a piñata with a sledgehammer.

The other quads opened fire and rounds bounced off his armor or sent showers of red Martian dirt into the air all around him.

Christensen rode the recoil and turned away from the exploding quad. He stepped up onto the rim of the small crater, bringing the heavy rifle in his left hand to aim at another target. He pulled that trigger, kinetic energy flashed, and his second target exploded. He rode the recoil once more and brought the first rifle down on a third target. A stream of enemy rounds smashed into it and sparks filled his view. Powerful electromagnetic coils crackled their energy all over the Martian landscape. His display flashed red warning signs as the rifle fried itself to death in his hand.

***

The Martian Affair is available at the following retailers

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Apple Books

Kobo

Smashwords

Jack twisted his stick and thrusters flared them around a few pieces of tumbling wreckage. Jack slammed the throttle forward, and engines roared tongues of blue fusion flame behind him. They accelerated towards the British vanguard, and Jack smiled with approval as their point defenses engaged every incoming enemy missile.

Jack found the Spitfire he was looking for at the very head of the vanguard. No surprise there. He tapped a button on his communications display to start transmitting. “Hey, Lance, old buddy. You’re looking a little lonely out here.”

“Not lonely at all,” Lance answered a second later, and his smiling face appeared on one of the displays. “Ivan’s giving us a warm welcome, in fact!”

“What did I tell you about trusting Russian vodka?” Jack asked as the range closed, pulling the throttle back to match speed with Lance’s squadron.

Displays flashed as Betty logged them back into the British networks. A whole new universe of fire plans and point defense options filled his cockpit. Laser turrets and missile pods realigned, thrusters burned to shift them into optimal angles, and gravitic cannons hummed to life as their capacitors achieved maximum power.

“Don’t,” Lance said with a chuckle. “It can give you a real headache in the morning.”

And then Jack’s little squadron of Avengers fired in time with the British vanguard. Grav beams and missiles reached out to smash one Russian ship, and wreckage filled his vision. Pieces of former warships drifted around them. Surviving point defense lasers fired at each other in fitful spurts of otherworldly destruction. Jack accelerated them through the flashing wreckage, trusting the deflection grids to deflect anything too small to dodge, trusting Betty to avoid anything too large to deflect, and really hoping none of those point defenses took a personal disliking to him.

“We have incoming fighters,” Betty reported, pulling his attention away from wreckage.

Jack glanced at the displays to see nearly a hundred Russian fighters closing with them.

“Ignore them,” Jack ordered and focused on the battleship he wanted so very much dead. “Stay on target.”

“Staying on target,” Betty acknowledged.

They shot out of the wreckage in time to the screaming duet of rock and roll guitars and opened fire with every weapon they had left.

***

The Audacious Affair is available at the following retailers

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Apple Books

Kobo

Smashwords