Dedicated to all you Gren fangirls and boys out there.

Conscript

Chapter 1- Birdland

Carl Levin stared in the smoke-tinged mirror at his reflection. The years spent in Birdland, the jazz club he had personally built from nothing in Tharsis, had added lines of worry and regret to his still jovial face, and his tight-knit hair was now flecked with grey, but why should he complain about losing his youth? It happened to everyone, so he just rolled with the punches and kept on smiling.

That boy was the same way, although he was a bit funny. Carl couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it was about Gren that made him think this, but there was just something in the naïve way the boy handled his life that made him wonder.

There was also the fact that he could never get Gren to get serious with a girlfriend, even one as pretty as Coletta Johnson. Lord, he tried to set his best bartender and waitress up; had been doing it since the girl was old enough. Hell, if he was ten years younger, Carl would be doing whatever it took to make Coletta his, she was just that great.

But Gren only took Coletta to the park or out with some of his other friends. Letta even said she'd tried to trick Gren in to a kiss, and that he freaked when she pushed her tongue past his lips, getting mad because he thought of her as a comrade, not a lover.

Jesus in Heaven, that boy was more naïve than a five year old. And who even thought of comrades anymore? What was this boy, some old-fashioned sissy Commie from a hundred years ago?

But what should Carl care about Gren's love life? When the kid was ready to settle down, he'd pick a girl and get so involved with her that nothing else could bother him. The kid was obsessive with two things- mixing drinks and playing sax. He'd be the same in a relationship.

Carl straightened his tie as he finished in the mirror, heading back toward his home and business. The club was usually dead on Mondays, which would leave Gren and him some quality time for a jam session.

It was hard to believe that it had been fifteen years since he found Gren sitting in that doorway like some lost puppy. The kid hadn't lied about his abilities on the sax, and together the owner and the kid had brought the entertainment the poor saps of the city wanted to hear. People flocked from all over the System to hear the legendary duo play old standards and some of Gren's new numbers, so much that the club could barely hold everyone that wanted to attend on the weekends.

"Hey Carl. Think we can talk tonight?"

The elder shrugged. "Sure, can't see no harm in talkin' on a Monday."

Gren smiled, keeping his eyes down upon the countertop. At twenty-five he still kept his boyish appearance and slender, almost effeminate figure as if he was still to finish puberty. Carl was shocked to find out that the kid shaved maybe once a month- Letta had told him one night when Gren wasn't working. Carl even asked him to cut his hair once, just so that newcomers didn't assume he was a woman and hit on him, but Gren just laughed, saying he didn't really mind the extra attention his appearance brought.

Carl never brought up that subject again.

The elder could sense something was wrong, in the sluggish way the boy served a cocktail to a man who had just sat down at the bar; in the way Gren's smile looked. . . .

"Gren, you wanna just jam tonight?"

"No, but thank you."

Carl looked around the club, calling one of the waitresses over to the bar to take his place, which she did without question. As Gren pulled two beers from the fridge under the bar, Carl placed a thick arm around the boy's shoulders, waiting for him to deposit the bottles in front of the couple that ordered them before leading him to the back room.

"Gren, I've known you for too damn long to know when you's hidin'somethin'. What's wrong? Yo' daddy threatenin' to kick you out again?"

"No, it's nothing like that. Father and I have come to an understanding- as long as I pay my rent on time, he doesn't care what I do, as long as it doesn't shame our family's name. Mother wants him to be friendlier, but what can I say? My sister is the one destined to take his place, not me. That life was never mine." Gren tried to smile, but the attempt was futile. Instead, he pulled a box and lighter from his breast pocket, puffing at a cigarette before the smile had completely faded to worry. "And if there was something wrong, I couldn't change it."

Carl only laughed, slapping Gren's shoulder as he chuckled. "You dog! Letta's gonna be havin' your kid, isn't she?"

Gren tried hard not to laugh, cocking an eyebrow at the man that had been his mentor and comrade, if not more of a father than Elijah had ever been, for the majority of his life. "There's no way I could ever get Letta pregnant. Just trust me on that, ok?"

"Well, what's botherin' you? I never seen you so blue, 'cept for the day I found yo' skinny ass on my doorstep."

Reaching in to his trouser pocket with his free hand, Gren retrieved a folded up piece of paper, carefully unfolding it so he could read it aloud.

"Mr. Grencia M. E. Guo-Eckener,

Due to Proposition 68.219, you are hereby summoned to report to the Tharsis Military Airfield on March 14, 2068, at 8:00 AM as a conscript of the Martian Armed Forces. Failure to report for duty will result in punishment to the fullest extent of the law.

Gen. H. Collinsworth

M.A.F."

Both remained silent for a few moments. The war on Titan had only erupted to full scale combat two weeks prior- how could the government have already started the draft?

"So, you gonna fight or run to Earth?"

Gren only shook his head, letting the paper fall to the ground. "I have no idea. I couldn't kill someone, but I don't want to get caught if they start searching Earth for draft dodgers."

"It ain't fair, kid. Politicians always be takin' the workin' men to fight their stupid battles for things like those damn opal mines." He sighed. "And if yo' daddy was worth anything like he thinks he is, you never would be gettin' no draft notice! He'd say you been to university an' all, an' that you a respectable member of society, gunnin' to be a politician an' all."

"But I'm not. I only went to university because it made Mother smile, and I only graduated in the top ten because it would have broken her heart if I hadn't."

Carl sighed, squeezing the young man's shoulder as he forced a smile. "Well, you still got two days a' freedom. You don' hafta work if you don' wanna, but you more than welcome t' play here. And when you come back, I'll be waitin' to jam with you again."

The young man just smiled. "I promise that I'll be back as long as you promise to keep my sax while I'm gone."

Standing from his seat upon a milk crate, Gren leaned down to hug Carl, hiding the tears that were welling in his eyes. "I must tell my family about this. Mother will be devastated, but she would notice that I've gone missing after a few days, so she does need to know. . . ."

With a sigh, he broke the embrace, placing the cigarette back between his lips. "Just keep my sax, ok? I'll miss every single one of you." Letta and the other waitress stopped what they were doing as they heard his words, but after seeing Carl emerge from the back room looking as if he would explode if either of them stepped out of line, neither girl deviated from her job. Letta did watch Gren leave out of the corner of her eye as she placed drinks in front of three men sitting at one of her tables, and the sadness in those eyes made her want to cry.