The Last Legion: Book One of the Last Legion Series (6 page)

“What do we have left?” Garvin asked.

“We won’t starve,” Petr said. “But we’re going to get very tired of soyaglop before we make it to Cumbre.”

• • •

Other cabinets had been looted as well, including the one labeled
ENTERTAINMENT.
Petr wasn’t upset by this.

“Gives you a chance to learn something else,” he said. “There’s two ways to pass the time when you’re off duty and trapped somewhere you can’t get a load on and get your ashes hauled, which’ll be most of your military career. Believe it or not, you
can
get too much sleep.

“One is lying, the other’s learning. Lying is the most common — everybody sits around and tells his or her life story, the most interesting thing that ever happened, the least interesting thing, and so forth.”

“Like everybody was doing on the
Malvern
,” Garvin said.

“Not everybody,” Petr said. “Mostly those were the newbies. They weren’t thinking about what happens when the lies run out. What happens when you know everything there is about somebody else? Real quick, you start hating their guts.

“It’s always better to go first to your own resources. Read a disk, if you’ve got one. Or, if you don’t, find somebody that knows something, and make them teach it to you.

“It’ll give you something to think about, plus you can get pissed off at them and they at you for something that’s got nothing to do with anything important.”

“So what do we do now?” Garvin asked. “Njangu’s got another two ship-hours before I relieve him.”

“I noticed, back when you were dealing with that gambler, you seem to like words,” Kipchak said.

“I do.”

“That’s a good liking to have. So sit down over there. And listen.”

Garvin obeyed.

• • •

“Enter
CHORUS
as Prologue,” Petr began.

Garvin and Njangu exchanged utterly bewildered looks.

• • •

Ship-hours and shifts later, a slightly hoarse Petr finished,
“Which oft our stage hath shown; and for their sake. In your fair minds let this acceptance take.”

He stood, bowed.

“And that,” he said, “I’m damned proud of.”

“I guess,” Garvin said haltingly, “you ought to be. That’s called a play?”

“Yep.”

“How many more of them do you know?”

“Oh twelve, maybe thirteen.”

“All by this same guy?”

“Mostly. And some others. Molière. Robicheux. Van Maxdem. Anouilh.”

“You memorized all of them?”

“Keeps you busy in the dogwatches.”

“Everybody in the army does shit like that?” Yoshitaro wanted to know.

“Nope. Just some.” Petr went to the fresher, drank water.

“Now it’s your turn to entertain me.”

• • •

Half a lifetime later, they came out into real space, in the midst of a planetary system.

Petr lifted the com mike from its slot and touched a sensor. Panel lights glowed. “We’re broadcasting on standard distress freqs,” he said, and keyed another sensor. “D-Cumbre, D-Cumbre, this is a lifecraft from the Confederation Transport
Malvern.
Please respond to this frequency. D-Cumbre, this is a lifecraft from the
Malvern …
”

D-Cumbre

The tall, silver-haired man opened the door. He wore the emblems of a
caud
, and was the commander of Strike Force Swift Lance.

Petr came to his feet at rigid attention. Njangu and Garvin awkwardly followed suit. All three wore brand-new uniforms, Njangu and Kipchak the mottled green of the infantry, Garvin the black coveralls of Armor.

“Come inside,”
Caud
Williams said, voice cold.

The three followed him into the office of Governor General Wilth Haemer. The head of the Cumbre system’s Planetary Government, direct representative of the Confederation, looked like anyone’s grandfather. But now he wasn’t offering sweets but scowling in righteous anger. The door closed with a loud click.

“These are the three men, Governor,”
Caud
Williams said.

Haemer walked behind his huge, highly polished wood desk, bare except for an expensive-looking old-fashioned writing pen and single com button, stared as if they were diseased cells.

“I see,” he said. “All three rank recruits.”

“Two, sir,” Williams said. “The man to the left is a reenlistee.”

“Hmph,” Haemer said. “Couldn’t make it on the outside, eh?”

The back of Kipchak’s neck reddened, but he said nothing.

“I should congratulate the three of you,” Haemer said, “for surviving an … extraordinary experience. But I’m unable to, since one or all of you fools had to blab your fantasy to the journohs the minute you got out of the rescue ship.”

“Wasn’t — ” Garvin started.

“Silence!”
Caud
Williams snapped.

“Go ahead,” Haemer said.

“It wasn’t us, sir,” Jaansma said.

“Then who?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Certainly no one in the team
I
dispatched to pick up your lifecraft would’ve leaked to the holos without permission,” Haemer said. “
That
is an absolute fact.”

Garvin finally had sense enough to clamp his lips together.

“Your hasty story … I won’t call it a lie, for I assume you three believe this nonsense … might well have sparked problems with Larix and Kura, and especially with their protector, Alena Redruth,” Haemer said. “It’s lucky I was able to release a clarification immediately.

“There’s no particular reason I should clarify matters for anyone in your position, but I shall, for I believe all my personnel should be of a common mind.

“We are on the uttermost fringes of the Confederation. Our link to the Confederation lies through Larix and is not far distant from the Kura system, for your information.

“The goodwill of its people, and their protector, is very important to the stability of Cumbre. Your wicked tale might destabilize what is an extraordinarily close relationship.

“I realize you can’t know it, but Protector Redruth himself was gracious enough to visit Cumbre a short time ago. Isn’t that about right,
Caud
Williams?”

“Yes, sir. Actually twenty-three E-months ago,” Williams said.

“It was quite a satisfactory tour,” Haemer continued. “He visited our mines, our cities, even took time to inspect your Strike Force, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Williams said.

“And now our friendship, a friendship of three great systems of Man, here on the frontiers, is threatened by three fast-mouths,” Haemer said. “This situation shall not be permitted to worsen,” he went on. “Let me tell you what actually happened. Some renegades seized two of the Protector’s ships. Possibly these criminals were even deserters from his own forces and wore the Protector’s uniforms as a cover for their vile crime, which is why you became confused.

“There was an error made, but I have corrected it. You three have already released corrective statements to the holos after I personally allowed you access to our intelligence files, and wish to apologize. You wish to say something, young man?”

Yoshitaro’s eyes were wide. “Nossir,” he said. “Nothing, sir.”

“I didn’t think so.

“
Caud
Williams,” Haemer went on, “I do not know what to do with these three. If we were anywhere close to civilization, I’d order you to discharge them from the service at once. But I doubt if any of them have employable talents on D-Cumbre, and we hardly want them to become a drain on the civilian economy.

“However, I want them to be fully aware of my displeasure, and while they will be permitted to serve out their term of enlistment, I do not wish to hear of them or see their faces again. Needless to say, this means I do not wish them to be promoted or achieve any recognition until I decide otherwise. Is that clear?”

“Sir, I cannot permit — ”

“
Caud
, that is an order!”

“Yes, sir.”

• • •

Njangu and Garvin followed Petr quite numbly, about two meters behind the
caud
as he strode down the marble steps of the governor general’s headquarters. Williams’ Cooke — an open gravsled used for everything from ambulances to Command & Control — had its drive compartment open, and the pilot was muttering in a low tone and pawing in his tool kit.

“What’s the problem this time, Running Bear?”

“Just won’t start, sir. But I think I can get it going.”

“Very well,” the
caud
said. “You three, across the street and into that park.”

The recruits obeyed.

“On line, and at attention,” he ordered. “You heard what the governor general would like to do to you. That won’t happen … unless you happen to get in his line of fire before he forgets your name.

“As far as being on any blacklist of mine … no. I’ll never discipline a soldier for making an honest mistake. Nor are you disqualified for future promotion or awards, if you deserve them. You reported what you saw or thought you saw, and refused to back off.

“I admire soldiers with sticktoitiveness. But don’t take things too far. Learn to think about what you thought you saw, and maybe reevaluate it.

“Remember one thing. Strike Force Swift Lance is, as the governor general said, far from the heart of the Confederation. We desperately needed the equipment and men on that ship, because it’s been far too long since we’ve been resupplied, and the unit is badly understrength. Some people we must respect might have overreacted to the bad news about the highjacking.

“Is what I’m saying making sense?”

“Yessir,” Petr growled, and the other two bobbed their heads.

“Very well,” Williams said. “We’ll forget about the whole incident. Welcome to Strike Force Swift Lance. You two new recruits’ll begin your basic instruction immediately, which unfortunately won’t be as formal as it should’ve been.

“We’ll have to put you, Jaansma, directly into a unit to be trained on the job. As for you, Yoshitaro, you’ll do the same with whatever unit personnel assigns you to. You, Kipchak, you’ve already been requested by Senior
Tweg
Reb Gonzales of the Intelligence and Reconnaissance Company. He says he knows you from another post.”

“Yessir.
Tweg
Gonzales and I were on Deneb-Nekkar together. A good man, sir.”

“You’ll report to him when we return to post.

“That’s all, gentlemen, except let me reiterate my advice — keep a very low profile and don’t make anyone, not your noncoms, not your officers, and certainly not me, have to consider your sins for a
very
long time.

“
Finf
Running Bear seems to have gotten the Cooke started, so let’s load up and get back to camp.”

He marched away, toward the gravsled.

Garvin and Njangu looked at each other.

“He seems decent,” Jaansma said in a low voice.

“Yeah? He doesn’t believe us any more than that other asshole did,” Yoshitaro said. “He’s just more polite about it.”

Kipchak nodded. “You’re learning, boy. But give him … maybe both of them … some grace. How’d you confront the small problem that there seems to be a shark between you and the surface and cruising around your lifeline?”

“Strong point,” Garvin said. “You can never convince a mark the wheel’s rigged even after you show him the weights.”

• • •

The Cooke slid quickly away from the PlanGov fortress, down a sweeping avenue through the city of Leggett toward the gulf Dharma Island curled around. In the middle of the huge bay, twenty kilometers distant and barely visible through the heat haze, was Chance Island, Strike Force Swift Lance’s base.

Running Bear accelerated, lifting the Cooke to a thousand meters. Williams turned in his seat and raised his voice above the windrush, trying to make conversation.

“Did all three of you take your oathing on Centrum?”

The recruits exchanged glances.

“Nossir,” Kipchak said. “I’ve never been sworn in this time. Guess they never got around to it.”

Njangu and Garvin also shook their heads.

Williams reacted in horror. “You mean … you’ve served for how long …”

“Two and a half E-months for me,” Petr said. “Six months for Yoshitaro and Jaansma, since they had to transit from their home worlds to Centrum.”

“Six months, and you’re not even … great gods, what’s passing through the minds of men these days? Oathing … that’s the most important part of … I cannot believe no one, absolutely no one …” Williams sputtered. His lips firmed into thin lines. “My apologies to you gentlemen, in the name of the Confederation. This is intolerable. Utterly intolerable!”

“Uh-oh,” Njangu muttered.

• • •

“Never seen so many goddamned soldiers in my whole friggin’ life,” Yoshitaro muttered. “Wonder what they’re all here for?”

“Zip the lip,” Petr said. “This is a solemn occasion.”

The three wore dress uniform — dark, almost midnight blue trousers, waist-length belted tunic, service cap with yellow piping on the trouser legs, cap, and epaulettes. The trousers were bloused into black mid-thigh boots. Petr had three rows of decorations above his left breast, and two winged emblems on his right; the other two nothing. All wore wide black-leather belts, with an empty knife sheath on it.

They were in the center of Camp Mahan’s enormous drill-field, almost three kilometers to a side. The field was packed with soldiers in dress uniform — almost eight thousand men and women of Strike Force Swift Lance.

From the farside of the field marched
Caud
Williams. Behind him was a color guard — three flagbearers with the banners of the Confederation, Cumbre, and the Force; then Williams’ command staff and the Force band at the rear, blasting for all its might. Williams’ bootheels smashed to a halt about fifteen meters distant. The band played for another four measures, then silence swept the square.