Imperial Guard Read Online Free PDF

he reached the back door and stepped outside. At once he began striding purposefully away from the house when he heard his name quietly spoken. He froze. His heart caught in his throat.
    “Timothy . . . I wanted to see you off.” It was his mother. Coming up to him out of a black patch of night, she looked up at his startled expression.
    “How did . . . What are you . . . uh, what do you mean?”
    “How did I know you were leaving? You’d be surprised what a mother knows. But don’t worry. I’m not going to stop you. Come, let’s move farther from the house.” Taking his arm she started walking with him.
    “I knew you would leave sometime. You’re too restless to be happy on the farm . . . too much of a dreamer. If I made you stay, you’d resent me, and you’d be miserable. I want my children to be happy.” She paused to look at him, her normally confident eyes rimmed with misgiving. “I hope the course you’ve set for yourself does make you happy.”
    “I’m sure it will, Ma. I’ll send you scan letters all the time. And anyway, I’ll be back. You know I wouldn’t walk away forever.”
    “Things change, son. You can never really return to things that were.” Pausing she added, “But it’s hard knowing you were going to leave without a good-bye or anything.”
    “Oh, Ma!” Timothy hugged her hard. “I’m sorry if my leaving hurts you, but I’ve got to go. I’ve got to!”
    “I know.” She patted him on the chest. “I only wanted a last look at my firstborn son before he left. Here, take this with you.” She thrust something into his hand.
    “What is it?”
    “It’s the O’Leary family Bible.”
    “But, Ma!”
    “I’m the last of the O’Learys, so I’m giving it to you, my eldest.”
    “Ma!”
    “No arguments. Take it.” Timothy took it and shoved it into his pack.
    “Listen, Ma, I can’t stay any longer. I’ve joined the Fusiliers, and I’ve got to catch the shuttle to go to the Military Academy on earth.”
    “I suspected as much. Yes, go on. Hurry. And God go with you.” Giving him a quick kiss, she turned and hurried to the door.
    Timothy dashed out of the yard and did not see the tears gleaming on his mother’s cheeks. She stood rooted by the door, watching him until he was out of sight. Then slipping inside, she returned to a sleepless bed.
    *
    His breath exploded rhythmically from his burning lungs, searing his tortured throat. His chest felt on fire. All he could think about was the pain he felt from head to foot and from skin down to bone. His breath tore steadily yet spasmodically from his parched mouth and rent the air as he vainly fought to replenish his body’s oxygen. He was glad his stomach was fairly empty, else he’d have lost its contents long ago.
    Not much farther now, he told himself through the haze. When he took the effort to lift his head, he could see the spaceport in the distance. For thirty clicks he had been running and walking, and time was getting short. It must be almost 6:30 by now. He had considered taking a short cut across the wheat field, which would have carved nearly five clicks off the trip. But the freshly cut stubble would have torn the skin of his bare feet to shreds.
    As he stumbled forward at the limits of his endurance, he shifted his pack on his raw shoulders and prepared to sprint the last leg of the race. One foot in front of the other. Don’t stop. Keep going. Only a few more steps. With sheer effort of will he forced his legs to keep pumping. Suddenly, out of the fog of his exhaustion, the silhouette of the guardhouse rose up to meet him. He slowed to a stumbling walk and nearly fell down. His legs had turned to rubber.
    “Halt! Who goes there?”
    Timothy Brogan stopped and slumped over, his hands on his knees, breathing harshly. “I’m . . . Timothy . . . Brogan,” he gasped out, feeling the bile rise in his throat, “reporting . . . for shuttle . . . transportation . . . to Earth.”
    Coming forward a few steps,