Free Remembrance Day by Simon Kewin Page A

take it out on. Real unfortunate if they were rich enough. It didn’t matter. They weren’t his problem any more.
    He returned the gun to its place behind the bar. He kept an assortment of weaponry there but usually the zapper was enough. When he looked up she was standing at the bar in front of him.
    ‘Hi, Mag.’
    Up close, she looked good. In fact she looked fantastic. Time had been hard on him, he knew. Time and war. She stood tall and unblemished. Her eyes, her lips, the cut of her hair all finely-featured, all perfect. By contrast, he felt like he was lashed together from slabs of rough metal. Her smile cut right into him, effortlessly deeper and sharper than the Martian’s knife.
    ‘Drink?’ he asked.
    ‘I’ll have the usual. You need one too?’
    He laughed.
    ‘That? Nothing we can’t handle.’
    ‘You and your mech. I’ve heard about the two of you. You get married out there or something?’
    He shrugged.
    ‘Been through a lot together.’
    ‘How did you even manage to smuggle it home? Surely someone would have noticed a three-metre killing machine being taken?’
    ‘Tell me what it is you want, Tia.’
    She climbed onto a stool.
    ‘I thought you were going to pour me a drink.’
    He couldn’t remember what her usual had been. Another detail he had lost. He poured her a shot of his finest Earth whisky, because it was the most expensive drink he sold. Poured himself one too. Tia raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
    ‘So?’ he asked.
    ‘Oh, you know, never been to the infamous Möbius Strip before. And I thought I’d come and see if you were surviving.’
    He snorted with amusement.
    ‘The war’s been over four years. You only come now?’
    ‘You’re the one who never came back to Earth, Magnus.’
    They were arguing already. They always argued. He remembered that at least. Not the petty bickering of other couples, but great, raging battles over anything and everything. They shouted and swore and others looked on alarmed, thinking they were going to fight. But it was just what they did, a game they played. He also remembered, vividly, the passion of their reconciliations.
    He said nothing and waited.
    She set her drink down.
    ‘OK. It’s just possible I might need your help. But I did want to see you again.’
    The mech lumbered back to its position in the centre of the bar, reporting back over the tPath link that the Martians had left.
    ‘Sure,’ he said, shrugging. ‘What help do you need?’
    ‘Can we talk here?’
    ‘As safe here as anywhere on the Strip. No-one’s going to care anyway. What is it?’
    ‘I need to arrange transportation for someone.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Someone.’
    ‘Someone dangerous?’
    ‘Someone in danger.’
    ‘Same thing. And you thought I’d be able to arrange things?’
    ‘Oh come on, you must know everyone on this base. I’ll bet you know a hundred ways to smuggle someone outsystem without the Solar System Police discovering.’
    ‘Maybe so. None of them safe, though.’
    ‘I can pay.’
    ‘Don’t need money, Tia. I’ve got this place.’
    ‘I have plenty of friends, Mag. If you help me I can get you citizenship on Mars, Titan, anywhere you like.’
    ‘Already got all the citizenship I need. Didn’t you hear I was a war-hero? I like it here. Mars looks pretty this far away.’
    ‘There must be … some way I can persuade you.’
    He caught the briefest pause in her words. He grinned.
    ‘I don’t need that either. People ask me every day whether they can pay for their drinks in kind. Women, men, humans, aliens and all points in between. Most of them younger than you too.’
    She laughed.
    ‘You can talk. I thought time-dilation was supposed to make us all older?’
    ‘So they say.’
    She sipped her drink and looked at him. Setting down her glass she shook her head.
    ‘What is it?’ he asked.
    ‘This grizzled startrooper act of yours. The I-don’t-need-any-other-fucker face you’re putting on. It doesn’t convince me you know. I knew