Chapter 26
It was nearly midnight as Harm made his way toward the conference rooms that hosted the frequent HALO sessions. All things considered, he would much rather have gone to bed with his wife. Despite George's claims, Harm didn't find any real appeal in the idea of staying up all night to play video games. But, duty calls… Who knows, maybe being able to play one of these things will win me some points with Chloe. He grimaced sourly. Yeah, right.
Harm reached the correct room and stepped into a computer generated war zone. Images were splashed across two walls in the darkened room. It took him a moment to realize they were first-person views of the same location, from different angles. The graphics were better than the best flight simulator he'd ever flown. A pile of computing equipment sat on the floor beneath each projected image. Two pair of speakers blared with noise-- voices shouting and giving commands, gunfire, screams and explosions. The weapon sounds were unrecognizable to his trained ear, but everything else shouted to Harm that he'd walked into the middle of a firefight. He tensed instinctively, fingers twitching toward a weapon he wasn't wearing.
"Pretty real, huh?"
Harm whipped around to stare into George Laughton's round face. The other man took a half step back, his smile dying. Harm forced himself to relax before he gave himself away. It's just a game.
"You're not kidding. I almost dove under the table." He cracked a smile. A table at the center of the room held the video projection equipment. Others were scattered about the room. Here and there, people sat to chat, eat or just watch.
George gave Harm an odd look, but chuckled. "Well, c'mon. Let me introduce you to some folks and then I'll show you the basics of the game." They wound their way through the tables, pausing from time to time to meet the people sitting there. The Radiant Heart was a small community, all things considered, so Harm was familiar with most of the faces.
They ended up next to one of the players. "Hey, Geordi," the man said, never taking his eyes from the screen. Harm was surprised to recognize Don, the cameraman who'd helped him rescue Nikki almost three weeks earlier.
"Hi, Don," Harm said, causing the other man to look up sharply. Then Don's face split in a wide smile.
"Hey, Hero."
Harm rolled his eyes. The ribbing about that little stunt had finally died away, for the most part.
George chuckled. "Looks like you've already got your screen name."
"Not likely," Harm told him. He would never live it down at JAG. "Yours is Geordi?"
George grinned. "Yeah, you know, Star Trek: The Next Generation?"
Harm just shrugged. When it came to television, he was pretty much lost.
"Never mind." George gestured toward the wall in front of Don. "They're playing capture the flag, every man for himself," he explained. "We have a total of four systems running, so there can be up to four players in the same game environment."
Harm watched the screen for a moment, then nodded. He'd flown multi-pilot simulations, even done a little dogfighting in that environment, so the concept wasn't new.
George spent some time giving him an overview of the game and explaining the various weapons and equipment available to the video game characters. Then, once Don's round had finished-- Harm had no idea who'd won, except that it wasn't Don-- George sat him down in the player's seat for an introduction to the hand controller. Under George's directions, Harm took his character off line for a practice session.
Once he was driving, Harm felt a lot better. As a fighter pilot, his reflexes and hand-eye coordination were exceptional, as was his ability to process information from multiple inputs in a realtime environment. Once he'd adjusted to the feel of the controller and started memorizing how to access things like his inventory, he quickly made progress.
"Hammer?" George asked at one point, referring to Harm's screen name.
Harm shrugged. "It was my dad's call sign in Vietnam. Seemed appropriate."
"Your dad flew in Vietnam?"
In the midst of fighting his way out of a small ambush, Harm didn't look away from the screen. "Yeah."
"Cool," was George's only response. Harm had to smile. George's generation was the one after Harm's, and it was obvious he hadn't lived through the decade of vicious backlash against that war or seen the deep rift it had caused in the country. To the younger man it was just another piece of history-- 'cool' because America had stood up for something, even if they'd done a poor job of it.
"The guy's a natural," Don commented to George a little while later as Harm wrapped up the practice round. The other man looked impressed.
George laughed and wagged a warning finger at Harm. "You aren't supposed to be this good at this." Harm stared as he continued, "I'm supposed to be bringing in fresh meat, not serious competition."
Mentally, Harm shook his head. It was just an innocuous statement. There was no way for George to know who he really was. George held out his hand for the controller.
"Here, I'm not going to try to walk you through joining a networked game. This time, at least, I'll just do it."
"Fine by me." Harm surrendered the controller. "I'm trying to memorize too much already."
"You seem to be doing pretty well at it," Don commented dryly.
Harm shrugged. "I'm a lawyer. Memorization is my life. You want me to quote you the Constitution?"
Don gave him a strange look. "All of it?"
"It is the basis for all law in the United States."
Don grimaced. "No, thanks. I hated Social Studies."
"There. You're set." George handed the controller back to Harm. Harm accepted it, and was surprised to feel something other than plastic along the back of the device. He gave no sign, however, just palmed the slip of paper and tucked it in his jeans pocket. Then he gave all his attention to the virtual combat world of HALO.
#
Harm got back to the room just as Mac was waking up. She sat up in bed, looking deliciously tousled as she tried to gain her bearings.
"Are you just getting in?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep. She rubbed her eyes and brushed a lock of hair away from her face, yawning hugely.
Harm grinned, then knelt on the edge of the bed to kiss her soundly. He was still running high on adrenaline and caffeine, and she was just too beautiful to leave alone.
Mac laughed when he released her, dark eyes dancing. "I take it you had a good time?"
Harm pushed himself away from the bed. Standing, he stripped off his shirt, then sat on the edge to take off his shoes. The jeans he would leave on until he got into the bathroom and could take a look at whatever George had passed him. "More than I expected, actually. I swear, the game's addictive."
Mac watched him as he undressed. "Are you headed for bed?"
Harm flashed her a smile. "I couldn't sleep right now if I had to."
She grinned wryly. "I know. You're positively bouncing."
He headed into the bathroom. Mac followed him. Once they were safely away from the cameras, Harm pulled out George's note.
Mac raised an eyebrow in silent question, and Harm nodded. He unfolded the paper, tilting it so Mac could see it as well. The note read:
There's a secondary recording system in the contestants' cabins-- sound only. It records while the cabin cameras are off. Only the bathroom is safe.
Harm frowned. The information wasn't exactly a huge surprise, but the confirmation only served to anger him. Such recording was, technically speaking, illegal, though whether there was enough to make a case against Ariel, Steiner, or the studio, he couldn't say.
Mac's brow dipped as she tapped the note. "He didn't say anything about Boothe and Carmen," she whispered.
"Not explicitly," Harm countered, also in a whisper. "But he could be implying there's evidence on these sound tapes. Something that happened when they didn't know they were being recorded."
"Maybe. Or maybe the warning is directed at us." She gave Harm a grave stare. "Do you think Webb could have planted someone on the ship?"
He blinked. That had never occurred to him. "George? That would be a pretty big coincidence." He shrugged. "But I wouldn't put anything past Webb. We can ask the Admiral."
Mac watched him thoughtfully. "We're going to have to be really careful not to step out of character for the next few weeks."
Harm nodded grimly. The apparent rift they generated to give Ariel the opportunity to target them would have to exist twenty-four hours a day because of the secondary recording system.
He shoved the thought away. For now, at least, such concerns remained in the future. They could still legitimately be a happily married couple until the opportunity to start destroying the relationship presented itself. Unconsciously, he fingered the ring on his left hand, and the miracle it represented.
"Mac, did I ever tell you how sorry I am that it took something like this insane investigation to shove me into marrying you?"
Her brown eyes widened in surprise. "No, but--"
Harm silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Then I should." He cupped her cheek in his hand, lightly stroking the line of her lower lip with his thumb. It was getting easier to be honest with her. He took a deep breath.
"You deserved better than this, Mac. You deserved…" He faltered for a moment. He had had his own secret dreams of what their wedding would be. "You deserved to have your wedding in a rose garden, and to know that the only reason it was happening was because there was a man who loved you more than more than anything-- more than his independence, more than flying… more than life itself." Harm wasn't entirely sure when he'd realized that he'd be willing to walk away from anything else in his life if it meant keeping Mac.
Mac's eyes filled with tears. "Dress whites and roses…" She smiled wistfully. "That's how I always envisioned our wedding, too." She raised a hand to cover his where it rested on her face, her expression firming. "But it doesn't matter. What matters is that we're together."
Harm wondered if she had any idea what an amazing woman she was. "No, it does matter, Mac. I can't turn the clock back, and, to be brutally honest, I'm not sure I would ever have gotten to this point without being forced into it--" He sighed. It was disappointing to see this flaw in himself so clearly. "But with the wisdom of hindsight, I just wanted to tell you that I wish I'd been able to do it right."
With a crooked smile, Mac raised her left hand to show him her wedding rings. The diamond that had once belonged to Harm's mother sparkled and flashed in the harsh electric lighting.
"Are you so sure you haven't?" she asked him.
He looked at her blankly. Her smile deepened.
"Your mother told me about this ring, Harm." She looked down at her feet for a moment, her expression filling with pain. "It was the only thing that kept me from completely coming apart that last day or so."
A knife to the heart would have been kinder. Harm pulled her close, feeling the hot sting of tears. "I'm so sorry, Sarah. I never wanted to hurt you."
Mac sighed softly. "And I forgive you, if there's any need for it." She shook her head. "We were so messed up, Harm… As crazy as this whole thing has been, I'm not sure we could have made it any other way." She pulled back to look up at him, her gaze firm. "I'll take the reality over the fairy tale any day."
Harm had to smile at that. "Me, too."
